Long-term care residents’ rights: Part 4

Posted on November 19, 2014 Updated on November 17, 2014

Welcome to Part 4 of my series on long-term care (LTC) residents’ rights.  Part 1 focused on a resident’s right to make choices that are important to her.  In Part 2, I discussed the topic of LTC admission procedures, specifically, a Waiver of Liability document that is oftentimes included  in the admission packet.  Part 3 addressed eviction/discharge from a long-term care facility.  Today’s topic addresses substandard and neglectful care.  Let’s look at this scenario:

Take the pressure off Mom

My mother was the quintessential social butterfly but not in the way one might imagine. Her social involvement didn’t include tennis or golf, nor did it center on being seen at extravagant galas around the city. My mother, Joan Young, socialized with the homeless, the hungry, and the vulnerable. Mom was a volunteer extraordinaire whose monthly calendar was filled with opportunities in which she would donate her time, her resources, and her compassion.

One of her most time-consuming, but most gratifying volunteer venues, was as an activity assistant at Shady Rest Nursing and Rehab Center. That same venue is now her permanent home where she’s lived the past month and a half since a massive stroke robbed her of the ability to speak or move her limbs. We think she understands what we say to her because oftentimes she’ll get a twinkle in her eye that appears to relay some sort of connection with us. The experts say she most likely still recognizes us, but even if that is not the case, I hope the presence of smiling, happy visitors go far towards improving her quality of life.

The last few days, however, mom was withdrawn, and more often than not, she slept through my visit. Because I live within close proximity of the Shady Rest, I visit her almost daily. Dad and his wife live another state over, so although they were on speaking terms prior to mom’s stroke, speaking to anyone isn’t really mom’s strong suit right now. I don’t mind carrying the torch for mom; she’d do the same for me.

After four days of a significant reduction in alertness, I talked to the head floor nurse to discuss mom’s change in condition. She assured me that one can expect sudden changes in levels of cognition after the assault that was placed on her body as a result of the stroke. The nurse told me to toss my cares aside and trust the Shady Rest staff with mom’s care. “She’s in good hands, Robin. There’s no need for you to worry. If there is ever anything that needs medical attention, be assured we’ll take care of her.”

But they didn’t.  Three days later, I noticed a fetid smell as soon as I entered her room. At first I thought that perhaps mom had gone Number 2 in her adult diapers but when I lifted up the sheet that covered her body, I saw she wasn’t wearing any.  But oh my God, the smell was even worse. I looked behind me to see if anyone was looking, and seeing that the coast was clear, I gently rolled my mother’s body away from me and discovered the source of the stench: an oozing, red and green sore about the size of a quarter on her left buttocks. I couldn’t help myself; I ran into the bathroom and threw up the lunch I had eaten prior to arriving.

Then I pushed the Call Button which is supposed to summon a health worker post-haste – or so I was told when mom first moved in. Three minutes ticked by: no response. I pushed the button again, this time walking to the doorway of mom’s room to look up and down the hallway for signs of incoming staff members. Not a soul in sight.

I left my mother’s room in search of a staff person and landed in front of the nurses’ station. I pounded on the counter, “Hello! I’m Robin, Joan Young’s daughter. I called you twice from my mom’s room.” That’s when I heard, for the first time, a sound that in the past always seemed to be an indeterminate background noise: the persistent dinging of Call Button tones from various rooms on the floor. A quick glance up and down the hallway also showed lights blinking above numerous rooms that coincided with each ding.

I pounded the counter again and pointed at the LPN sitting at a computer. “You, follow me.”

“Miss Robin, I’m finishing up a report, I can’t leave my desk right now.”

I tossed all protocol to the side, walked behind the counter, pulled the computer mouse out of her hand, jerked her chair back and tilted it forward. “Come with me, now.”

That seemed to work but I didn’t take any chances. I held her hand and pulled her down the hallway into my mother’s room. “Do you smell that?” And then I pulled down the sheet on my mother’s bed, gently rolled her away from us and added, “Do you see that?”

“Oh my, Mrs. Young has a bed sore.”

“Ya’ think? This sore didn’t just materialize in the past three hours ya know. It’s been festering.”

“You could be right.”

“No, I am right. I want you to summon the head of nursing and I want you to summon her now. Tell her to meet me in my mom’s room, ASAP.”  The LPN didn’t move, so I pushed her out the door. “Go!”

*****

The bed sore – or decubitus – had yet to go bone deep. Had that been the case, mom would most likely not have recovered from the infection. As it was, her health never returned to its previous state, even with the excellent care she receives at a different nursing home, thirty miles away from where I live. Sunnyside Nursing Home wasn’t as fancy as the other place, but obviously, looks can be very deceiving. What my mom saw as an activity assistant volunteer was far different from what she experienced as a patient. When we chose Shady Rest as her new home, we did so without the benefit of readily available resources that would have provided red flags as to the quality of care provided. We figured, “Heck, mom loved volunteering at Shady Rest, why look any further?”

Shame on us.

Joan Young was the victim of willful inaction that caused a potentially fatal injury to her person.  Joan’s inability to verbalize or express her pain and discomfort, other than the withdrawal and malaise eventually recognized by her daughter, put Joan at even greater risk of serious health decline resultant from the unattended bedsore.  Facilities must assure that a resident’s body is routinely turned to different and varied sitting and lying positions in an effort to prevent such bedsores.  In addition to bedsore prevention, if Joan had been diligently cared for – for example, if her ongoing bathing and care plan had been strictly followed – any skin abnormalities would have been immediately noted and attended to and infection could have been avoided.

42 CFR 483.25 Quality of care. Each resident must receive and the facility must provide the necessary care and services to attain or maintain the highest practicable physical, mental, and psychosocial well-being, in accordance with the comprehensive assessment and plan of care …

(c)  Pressure sores.  Based on the comprehensive assessment of a resident, the facility must ensure that –

(1)  A resident who enters the facility without pressure sores does not develop pressure sores unless the individual’s clinical condition demonstrates that they were unavoidable; and

(2)  A resident having pressure sores receives necessary treatment and services to promote healing, prevent infection and prevent new sores from developing.  See also Washington State law RCW 74.34.

Some of you readers might be thinking, Well, if her daughter had been more attentive, she would have noticed the sore earlier or Why didn’t she say something about her mother’s malaise right away instead of waiting several days?  Being an armchair quarterback is a very easy position to play.  The very unfortunate – yet somewhat understandable – attitude of some family members and/or patients is: This is a licensed facility staffed by medical professionals; who am I to question their ability to take care of my mother?  The answer to that is obvious: even when a family member moves into a long-term care setting, you must continue to exercise your role as family advocate.  I understand the relief one feels of trusting ones care to a staff of professionals, but the unfortunate truth is sometimes that trust is misplaced.

If you or a loved one need assistance regarding LTC residents’ rights, contact your local LTC Ombudsman office which can be located at the National Long-Term Care Ombudsman Resource Center.

Part 5 of this series will deal with a resident’s right to make choices about their own medical treatment.  Part 5 will be posted on Friday morning, November 21.