Cooking and other issues for a 93 year old

So essentially what you are telling me is that I should eat as much borscht as possible. Don't mind if I do...got any of that hearty brown bread to go with it?

I was particularly connected to the comment of how the woman would rather fall and break a hip or even bleed to death than have someone hovering about for every moment of life...oddly I can relate to that. Something tells me that most people feel that same way. Let me live life on my own and in my way or don't make me live at all.

In relationship to your recent vegetable topic, I have to admit that I love canned beets...actually prefer them over fresh. (still ain't sold on canned taters though)

Re: Cooking and other issues for a 93 year old


More about self-reliance than beets. Thanks for that article, osso.

I found it fascinating, the description of the woman's changes as the home helper came into her life and then left it...

Many elderly move into our apartments, because they seek one last stand of refuge before they have to succumb to the inevitable. Often, they don't belong here, because already too infirm to care for themselves. Many stay here for years and do very well. We in the maintenance department have a resposibility beyond mere air conditioning work and repairing toilets. We spend lots of time reassuring them and providing contact with the outside. One person so relied on us, that when she was hospitalized, she called my after hours emergency number if in need of assistance. The first time that happened, it took over an hour for me to figure out she was still in the hospital. They want to do for themselves as much as possible and, as was mentioned, not have somebody constantly hovering.

One such person would spend half of a day, practicing walking to the other side of the room, unaided. Another refused a walker beyond what was reasonable. She would come to pick up her mail, pausing, resting against a car, or sitting on a bottom step. Once, I came upon her standing near the mailboxes, doubled over at the waist, and had to help her straighten up. When finally she took up a walker, she went off the sidewalk edge and pitched onto the lawn, unable to move from there unaided. Finally, her daughter moved her to assisted care.

There are dozens of these folk etched into my mind, all guilty only of wanting to extend their time of being independant a little longer.