Oxford Center

I drove over 600 miles to visit my brother at the Oxford twice. Both times the moment the elevator door opened one is hit by the stench of urine. My brother complains of "being in prison" and adds "maybe prison would be better" and of missing "fresh air," but says that the people are nice. A few staff members I met in the elevator and hallway asked who I was visiting and had kind words for my brother -- that he was "nice," "very intelligent," "keeps to himself." There are three beds in each small room, with just room enough for the bed and a night stand -- not even a chair or a table or a lamp, other than the one dim lamp on the wall. He had a window bed, with a little TV; now he is in a bed by the hallway door. When I first visited he had vomited on the floor and transferred the mess on his shoes to the bed covering. He looked disheveled, with a multi-stained shirt on each visit. He hates the food although he'd be content with very simple fare such as baked beans. He has lost a lot of weight and had huge bruises, visible on his arms, but I could not get any explanation from the nurse or nursing supervisor (HIPPA regulations). He claims he "was sick" but seems to think he no longer is; does not know his diagnosis. They do grind up his food for him since he has too few teeth to chew properly. When I took him out to dinner -- after much ado getting "permission" -- he proved that he has an excellent appetite -- and he said that he felt "woozy" before eating; afterward he said felt much better and had really enjoyed himself. (He even perceived my driving as having improved dramatically although I am sure it had more to do with how he felt than how I drove.) He looked so disheveled but moved so quickly ahead of me, that a waitress initially tried to stop him from entering the Friendly’s Restaurant until she saw that he was with me and I asked for a table for two in a quite area. (They do wash clothing for him at the Oxford but he wore three shirts, the outer one badly stained, and claims that his jacket "fell apart in the water." Some other patients also seemed to me inappropriately dressed, e.g. a man sitting in the hallway with a winter coat on and a knit hat, on a hot summer day.) He felt tired after our excursion but still moved so much faster than I could that the front desk clerk later told me that she had been asked before I could up with him “What is RC doing out by himself?” During my second visit I’d found my brother sitting on the edge of his bed, his body twisted around leaning on one elbow so that he could use the head of the bed as a "desk" to write in his notebook. At first he did not hear me even when I spoke his name repeatedly. When I touched his shoulder he turned and was delighted to see me. He'd wanted to show me the "day room" one day but it was closed around 7 PM, apparently for cleaning; the other afternoon, it seemed to me to be very, very crowded with the only "activity" being sitting watching TV. There was a refrigerator in the day room where he put the cake I gave him to share with staff and with any patients he wished to as long as they were permitted to eat such sweets. However, although not "normally" anxious he expressed fear that if we didn't take with us to supper a canvas bag full of magazines and writing & drawing supplies I 'd given him they might "disappear" off his bed or out of his night stand. "It wouldn't be the first time," he justified his opinions to me when I raised an eyebrow quizzically. We left the bag full of gifts anyway and found it when we got back from supper where we’d left it. Not the kind of place I'd want to spend my twilight days, weeks, months or years; I'm investigating what can be done about it. My brother worked hard all his life; he was a professional engineer. He summarizes his situation now with, "I'm living within my means."

They don't have activities or they have very few activities - basically none so my husband pretty much sits in a wheelchair all day in the hallway. They put him to bed at 7pm and he just stares at the ceiling. Very often when I go there he's wet or soiled. The care is not very good. They don't have enough staff. The food is good.