It recently occurred to me that nursing home patients rarely drink alcohol or use recreational drugs, which I found perplexing. People who have nothing to do most of the time; unemployed people, people in rock bands, actors, college students, bar managers, the homeless, all seem to drink quite heavily. While there are many people such as the Japanese and every attorney who hate their jobs and still manage to consume vast quantities of alcohol, there’s certainly a relationship between free time and booze.
Yet I was shocked to find out that in most nursing homes alcohol isn’t allowed, as an employee of the nursing home near my house, who I’ll call Vallerie, informed me.
I mean, these patients have nothing to do. They don’t have jobs. They have some hobbies from what I have observed, such as attending social gatherings in the building, watching popular television events such as the Oscars and the Super Bowl, and playing a lot of dominos and board games. All of these events lend themselves to drinking. I don’t think I’ve seen someone play a board game without a glass of wine or a beer in their hand since the days of Operation. On a side note, do not purchase the board game Operation for your loved ones being stored in nursing homes. They are shaky and that’s a cruel joke.
At this point I became a little suspicious. I’m sure many of the men especially, but the women too, feel like they’re at an all inclusive resort that is for some unknown reason devoid of booze. So I quizzed Vallerie on why, and how, a facility like this could possibly manage to keep 90 year olds from going out and sneaking back to their dorms carrying blow up dolls after destroying some newspaper vending machines.
As for the why, it turns out it’s a health issue. Drinking excessively is bad for you and this home “doesn’t want everyone to be on dialysis.” Fair enough. But it does seem like a personal choice, and not every patient has liver or kidney issues. Also, it’s important to point out, some untold percentage of patients surely want to die quickly.
I then found out, unbeknownst to me, that many nursing home patients aren’t allowed to leave the building. This really explains the how part, as many of them are in a glorified prison. Before a patient is checked in they are given a mental and physical evaluation, and if it determined they are not capable of venturing out into the world then they are not allowed to, which must lead to a lot of conversations like this:
“Mister Ralston, you are not allowed to leave the lobby sir!”
“What? Fuck you! I’m one hundred years old! I’m going to get a beer. Don’t tase me Bro! Shit, you’re tasing me, aren’t you? The joke’s on you, I can’t feel my legs anyway. Going to take a nap on the tile now.”
At this point, I would begin to harbor an awful lot of resentment toward the facility and would work tirelessly to break out. The problem is that it’s really tough to break out of a building when you’re really mentally and physically slow. One wrong move and you’ll simply snap your ankle. Even climbing out of a first floor window would pose a huge problem, forcing you to look at a one foot drop like you’re Richard Kimble.
Compounding matters, once you break out and head to the strip club, as some sort of preventative escape measure, cruel joke, or gross negligence, your family have been providing you solely with boxy brown burlap clothing and tuxedo style pajama tops, making you look exactly like a guy who just escaped from an old folks home. This is further proving their indifference toward you, along with the fact that, before they checked you into this place, never said something like,
“You know, I have this antique shotgun in my storage locker, if you want it.”
“What for?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I also have a thousand Oxycodones from my motorcycle accident…”
It’s an uncomfortable conversation, and unfortunately it waited too late. Now you’re too far gone to even know what you’re getting yourself into and you, a guy who once beat a huge lesbian in an arm wrestling tournament, are being bribed with McDonald’s to get into the car.
It’s just not right.
Perhaps I am just looking at this as a guy with normal testosterone levels, and when the time comes, sitting around all day watching Maury and designing embarrassing holiday cards while being told by a twenty four year old filipino man with a weave that I can’t have a beer will sound like a good idea but I seriously doubt it.
Along those lines I wonder if there are more nursing homes in more progressive blue states and cities, and if crazy independence loving guys from Flagstaff simply make other arrangements like blowing their heads off or treating their bodies badly enough that they know intrinsically this choice will never really come up.
One last thing I found out: this facility bills Medicaid $300 per night, per patient. That’s a lot of money to not get some drinks out of it. I’m not saying a full 24 hour bar should be located inside the facility, but perhaps a commissary which sells giant handles of Jack Daniels, and a complimentary keg that’s always freshly tapped. It’s just the only ethical way to handle this outsourcing of our family duties.
Also, if you’re a real hero, sneak some booze into a random nursing home. It’s rare that you feel you’re truly making a difference in the life of a stranger.