A crying need for change.

I like to generate discussion. On certain matters. Focusing the spotlight on precisely where I want it. That was the advantage of writing for newspapers. I was able to pick and choose what to write about. Matters. Matters. Injustices that bothered me.  My intent was to make things right. If I were writing for newspapers today, I’d zero in on nursing home care. The kind that Alzheimer patients deserve and too often don't get. I've seen many Alzheimer patients being warehoused instead of treated like individuals and real human beings. I spent 38 months in a nursing home. As an unpaid supplemental care-giver for my beloved wife Jeanne. Didn’t miss a single day. I was there for 8 to 10 hours most days.  Yes, I saw it from the inside. Jeanne got proper care. But only because I was there. To see to it. To supplement the insufficient professional care. She got daily showers. I hand-fed her lunch and supper. In the quiet and undisturbed privacy of her room.  Jeanne went outdoors. Daily. In a custom-made wheelchair. Even in the middle of Minnesota winters. Tucked in a thermal sleeping bag. Jeanne got the kind of one-on-one attention everyone with Alzheimer’s deserves. In every nursing home. Sadly, too often they don't. Not even close. Even in nursing homes where the fees range upward of $10,000 a month. Indeed, it's a crying shame. But I ain’t crying. Instead, I’m writing about it. Trying. Trying. Trying ever so diligently. To bring about much-needed change. –Jim Broede