descriptive essay on nursing home

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Understanding resident and family member preferences about care is an essential ingredient to increasing satisfaction with care [16]. In this study on nursing home-acquired pneumonia, we captured the voices of both residents who were capable of making their own decisions in regards to their care and of family members speaking on behalf of residents who were incapable of expressing themselves. Both of these groups preferred that care be provided in the nursing home, although family members were more open to the idea of providing residents with hospital-based care. This preference is based on both their beliefs about pneumonia (not a health problem that must be cared for in hospital) and their assessment of 'good care'. For both groups of study participants, comfort and personalized care were the two most important components of care and were perceived as being more available in LTCFs.Regarding treatment decision-making, family members believed that their preferences are regularly taken into account by LTCF staff, although many reported they would most likely take staff recommendations. Residents, on the other hand, felt that doctors should make treatment decisions, including locus of care. They were also much more hesitant than family members to express treatment preferences or criticize their care.Other studies that have investigated resident preferences for care (such as [7] and [8]) have found a greater preference for hospital care. One plausible explanation for the discrepancy between the study findings may be that people tend to respond differently to questions about preferred locus of care if they are asked about hypothetical versus actual situations.The role of the nursing home or LTCF is another factor that should be taken into account when developing programs to ensure patient- or resident-centred care. In response to the recent economic restructuring of.
Image Credit: Crystal A., Lancaster, WI       The monotonous droning of the machines spilled from the tiny rooms. Coughs and yells from the residents echoed throughout the corridor. The woman next to me seemed puzzled by a nurse’s simple command: “Maria, tie your shoes.” A man in a wheelchair stared out the window. No matter where I looked, I saw a lonely individual seeking companionship. I began my nursing home journey in the dementia unit. The folks there were more remarkable, entertaining, and interesting than I expected. Each had an unmistakable peculiarity. There was Rose, who couldn’t remember her own identity but could think of a song for any word you said. There was Larry, who couldn’t recall his son’s name but could recite math facts as if they defined who he was. Eugene had a passion for checkers and played the same way every time. I knew when I touched on a good point of discussion because (even if they didn’t realize it related to their lives) there was a convincing glint in their eyes that let me know that beneath the confusion, I had freed a memory. And even if they could not fully recognize it, a vague familiarity was settling beneath the loneliness, confusion, and doubt. A certain hope emerged. For the hour I spent there each week, my heart was both shattered and uplifted. Every Monday for two years I punched in the code, opened the door, and entered a world where no one knew my name. I reintroduced myself to the same people every Monday, and though I had no identity for that hour, I had a purpose. To the residents I held an unfamiliar significance. It seemed that for the one-hour friendship that I gave, they gave me a certain breath of hope to my own life.