Starting next week, I’ll be part of the residential room rotation. There are six women who eat all their meals in their rooms. Ms. Bali took me around to each of their rooms today, and I met three of them. The other three, including Claire, weren’t in their rooms. Before we went from room to room, I was shown how to review the ICP on each patient. That’s their “Individualized Care Plan”. I hadn’t been able to access more than the generic information before, but now I have a code where I can see specifics. Most ICPs include food allergies, likes, and dislikes.
Claire’s Food ICP was very specific, with certain rules spelled out:
Ms. Nichols will have three meals delivered each day. Upon delivery, attendants will assess Ms. Nichols’ ability to eat unassisted. If she engages, leave food and return to remove tray in thirty minutes. If she doesn’t engage, direct her to her table and explain your actions as you assist in feeding her.
Talking is recommended by Ms. Nichols’ doctors; however, Mrs. Vandersol will not allow any conversation regarding Ms. Nichols’ previous life. Under no circumstance can the name Anthony/Tony Rawlings be mentioned. IF Ms. Nichols brings up this name, staff is to change the subject immediately and notify a supervisor.
Failure to adhere to the set rules will result in immediate dismissal.
I was surprised to see her room. Unlike the other rooms we visited, Claire’s looked generic and sterile. The colors were all pale. She didn’t have any pictures or personal items, other than her clothes and hygiene items. Even the bedspread and window treatments were neutral; there were no bold colors. Since Ms. Bali was with me, I couldn’t look around too much, but I mentioned the starkness in passing.
“Is this patient new?” Meredith knew the answer; nonetheless, she was fishing.
“No, this is Ms. Nichols, the patient you read about with the specific rules regarding discussion. She’s been here for over two years.”
“Her room isn’t as personalized as the other ones we’ve been in.”
Ms. Bali dismissed Meredith’s observation. “That’s none of our concern. It’s Mrs. Vandersol’s doing, and I do believe it goes along with the conversation rules.”
I wanted to ask more, but was afraid I’d raise suspicion. As we walked toward the kitchen, Claire passed us with a tall, pretty blonde woman. She looked our direction momentarily, but didn’t seem to recognize me. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I guess in a way it’s good. I’ve been concerned that she’d react as she did in the cafeteria the first time we saw one another. If she did that again when I entered her room, I surely wouldn’t be able to continue doing it.
After they passed, Ms. Bali whispered, “That was Ms. Nichols with Dr. Brown. It’s sad, you’ll see when you start visiting her, but she’s lost all sense of reality. You may have read the book about her, but she’s had a pretty rough life for someone so young. I keep hoping that one day she’ll snap out of it.”
Meredith paused for a moment before asking, “Is that possible? Can people really snap out of it?”
“I’ve been here for over twenty years, so I’ve seen a few cases; however, we shouldn’t keep our hopes up. Cases like that are extremely rare...”
I’m going to do some research and see if I can find out how you can facilitate that “snapping”. Oh, I told her I hadn’t read the book, but I’d look it up. Then she told me not to, that she probably shouldn’t have told me, and it would probably bias my opinion.
She has no idea how biased I already am!
Emily entered the waiting room of Everwood’s counseling center. She knew the facility backwards and forwards, and this was her favorite area—that is, if she had one at all. It was airy and open, with plenty of sunlight. They’d paid extra to get Claire a window that faced East. Emily knew her sister loved sun and hoped that the sunrises would help her; however, according to the reports, each morning when the staff entered her room they found her draperies still closed. At first, Emily had been more willing to entertain suggestions for Claire’s recovery, but with each passing day, week, and month, Emily’s optimism waned.
This was Emily’s bi-monthly meeting with Claire’s doctors, where she’d listen to their theories and suggestions. Once a month, she met with the administrators and discussed confidentiality. At those meetings, she emphasized the importance of maintaining her rules. With these obligations, as well as visiting Claire at least three times a week, Emily’s schedule was very full. She also had a family at home that needed her attention. That family was larger than it would have been without Claire, and for that reason, Emily swore she’d never be regretful. Nichol was a joy, whom she and John were honored to raise. Of course, sometimes she wondered if Michael suffered because of loss of attention, but then she’d see the two cousins interacting like siblings and realize, Nichol was a blessing—despite her parentage.
Claire’s Food ICP was very specific, with certain rules spelled out:
Ms. Nichols will have three meals delivered each day. Upon delivery, attendants will assess Ms. Nichols’ ability to eat unassisted. If she engages, leave food and return to remove tray in thirty minutes. If she doesn’t engage, direct her to her table and explain your actions as you assist in feeding her.
Talking is recommended by Ms. Nichols’ doctors; however, Mrs. Vandersol will not allow any conversation regarding Ms. Nichols’ previous life. Under no circumstance can the name Anthony/Tony Rawlings be mentioned. IF Ms. Nichols brings up this name, staff is to change the subject immediately and notify a supervisor.
Failure to adhere to the set rules will result in immediate dismissal.
I was surprised to see her room. Unlike the other rooms we visited, Claire’s looked generic and sterile. The colors were all pale. She didn’t have any pictures or personal items, other than her clothes and hygiene items. Even the bedspread and window treatments were neutral; there were no bold colors. Since Ms. Bali was with me, I couldn’t look around too much, but I mentioned the starkness in passing.
“Is this patient new?” Meredith knew the answer; nonetheless, she was fishing.
“No, this is Ms. Nichols, the patient you read about with the specific rules regarding discussion. She’s been here for over two years.”
“Her room isn’t as personalized as the other ones we’ve been in.”
Ms. Bali dismissed Meredith’s observation. “That’s none of our concern. It’s Mrs. Vandersol’s doing, and I do believe it goes along with the conversation rules.”
I wanted to ask more, but was afraid I’d raise suspicion. As we walked toward the kitchen, Claire passed us with a tall, pretty blonde woman. She looked our direction momentarily, but didn’t seem to recognize me. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I guess in a way it’s good. I’ve been concerned that she’d react as she did in the cafeteria the first time we saw one another. If she did that again when I entered her room, I surely wouldn’t be able to continue doing it.
After they passed, Ms. Bali whispered, “That was Ms. Nichols with Dr. Brown. It’s sad, you’ll see when you start visiting her, but she’s lost all sense of reality. You may have read the book about her, but she’s had a pretty rough life for someone so young. I keep hoping that one day she’ll snap out of it.”
Meredith paused for a moment before asking, “Is that possible? Can people really snap out of it?”
“I’ve been here for over twenty years, so I’ve seen a few cases; however, we shouldn’t keep our hopes up. Cases like that are extremely rare...”
I’m going to do some research and see if I can find out how you can facilitate that “snapping”. Oh, I told her I hadn’t read the book, but I’d look it up. Then she told me not to, that she probably shouldn’t have told me, and it would probably bias my opinion.
She has no idea how biased I already am!
Emily entered the waiting room of Everwood’s counseling center. She knew the facility backwards and forwards, and this was her favorite area—that is, if she had one at all. It was airy and open, with plenty of sunlight. They’d paid extra to get Claire a window that faced East. Emily knew her sister loved sun and hoped that the sunrises would help her; however, according to the reports, each morning when the staff entered her room they found her draperies still closed. At first, Emily had been more willing to entertain suggestions for Claire’s recovery, but with each passing day, week, and month, Emily’s optimism waned.
This was Emily’s bi-monthly meeting with Claire’s doctors, where she’d listen to their theories and suggestions. Once a month, she met with the administrators and discussed confidentiality. At those meetings, she emphasized the importance of maintaining her rules. With these obligations, as well as visiting Claire at least three times a week, Emily’s schedule was very full. She also had a family at home that needed her attention. That family was larger than it would have been without Claire, and for that reason, Emily swore she’d never be regretful. Nichol was a joy, whom she and John were honored to raise. Of course, sometimes she wondered if Michael suffered because of loss of attention, but then she’d see the two cousins interacting like siblings and realize, Nichol was a blessing—despite her parentage.
