Hoping to like what I see.

My Alzheimer-riddled friend Ron is in nursing home again. But this one is different than the others. In a semi-swank residential home. With five beds. In bigger and more swank nursing homes, Ron was lost in the shuffle  He received hardly any one-on-one mental and physical stimulation. Left pretty much to himself. Drugged into a stupor, too. A shame. A crime. I’m expecting humane treatment this time. At a place called Arthur’s Residence. In a Twin Cities suburb. Ron has been weaned off most of his medications. Making him a more alert dementia patient. Now it’s important that Arthur’s young and enthusiastic staff gets to know Ron. In unique and intimate ways. He’s reachable. But it takes gumption, aka effort. One must learn to speak Ron’s language. And enter his fanciful world. I’ll drop in often. To communicate with Ron. And to observe. Hoping to like what I see. --Jim Broede