Strange is our situation here on earth. Each of us comes for a short time, not knowing why, yet sometimes seeming to a divine purpose. From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: that we are here for the sake of others. Albert Einstein Lives Now Gone: A Nursing Home Diary by Dr. Robert Norman Over the last 25 years I have treated patients at dozens of nursing homes throughout Florida and taken down notes and kept a diary. Over the last few months, the urgency of my diary has been heightened due to the rampage of Covid 19. I have talked to many … Continue reading
Tag Archives: death
Goodbye Jag
Goodbye Jag: What a case-report will not tell. by Cornelis Kennedy Case reports (CRs) are considered an important tool in conveying information about unusual clinical cases. They serve an important purpose in sharing knowledge with colleagues about often unexpected outcomes. These clinical events are then chronologically presented, analyzed and at the end a conclusion is discussed. Often more is needed. Sometimes the information that is not presented in the CR provides insights that may have a bigger impact on us than the pure clinical data. Sometimes more needs to be said. Sometimes we find ourselves crying. It was late on a Wednesday morning when the resident called. My patient, Jag, … Continue reading
Tossed Photographs
by Marla Lukofsky Today I attended the funeral of my friend and neighbor of 35 years, Ms. Enid. No one knew her exact age except for her best friend Ruby, another neighbor here at The Burnside, our six-storey art deco apartment building that we all lived in. Enid was distinguished and healthy, but dementia grabbed her sensibilities in her last year. Because she was single and had no family, she was sent to a nursing home far away from The Burnside and her friends, a good forty-minutes drive on the highway. Her death has had a huge impact on me. I miss her tremendously, of course, and her passing has … Continue reading
Little Green Pill
by Madelyn Kamen He was there every day, Looking at her from the other side of the window, Smiling at her as she handed over his little green pill. He wasn’t that old and she wasn’t that young; Neither had ever married. She was a psychiatric nurse’s aide who understood the inmates Because she had been abused as a child, pulling into herself To avoid punishment. He was there because he had been bullied as a little boy, Making it a habit of staying away from the big guys who could Beat him up. Now, they were adults, albeit imperfect ones, who Occasionally would sit together on her coffee breaks … Continue reading