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His Medical Crisis Took Us by Surprise

Suddenly my father-in-law was hospitalized, and we had put off planning
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Journalist Judith Graham reveals what happens when problems that have always been hypothetical suddenly become real and need immediate solutions. Graham writes the Navigating Aging column for Kaiser Health News (KHN). Her article was posted on the KHN website on August 20, 2020, and also ran on CNN. Funding from the Silver Century Foundation helps KHN develop articles (like this one) on longevity and related health and social issues.

Earlier this month, my husband picked up the phone and learned his 92-year-old father had been taken to the hospital that morning, feeling sick and short of breath.

We were nearly 2,000 miles away, on a vacation in the mountains of southern Colorado.

No, it wasn’t COVID-19. My father-in-law, Mel, who has diabetes, high blood pressure and kidney disease, was suffering from fluid buildup in his legs and around his lungs, and excruciating knee pain. Intravenous medications and steroid injections were administered, and he responded well.

Doctors monitored Mel carefully, adjusted his medications and recommended a few weeks of home health care after eight days in the hospital.

In other words, this was not a life-threatening emergency. Yet we realized how poorly prepared we were for a real crisis, should one arise. We needed a plan.

Why didn’t we have one already? The usual reasons: denial, avoidance and wishful thinking. It was easier to imagine that Mel would be all right until it became clear that we couldn’t take that for granted.

Although I routinely advise readers about preparing for changes in their health, I didn’t want to be a know-it-all with my husband’s family. Their assumption seemed to be, “We’ll deal with whatever comes up when that happens.”

Now, eyes wide open, we got organized.

Some background: Mel lives in a well-run continuing care retirement community in upstate New York, in the independent living section. His three sons all live at a distance: one out West, one overseas and one a few hours away.

Hiring a care manager. Last year, as Mel’s kidney function declined, I suggested we hire a geriatric care manager who could look in on him regularly. After a few visits, Mel let her go. Her services were too expensive, he complained. In truth, we understood, he didn’t want someone interfering in his affairs.

My husband respects his father’s autonomy and didn’t press the point.

So when Mel went to the hospital a few weeks ago, he was alone, with no one to turn to for assistance.

This was especially problematic because Mel has hearing loss, and it is almost impossible to talk with him by phone. “How are you, Dad?” my husband yelled on twice-a-day calls to check on his father in the hospital. “What?” Mel replied querulously. This was repeated a few times, with mounting frustration and no useful information exchanged.

Now a care manager who could serve as our eyes and ears on the ground was necessary, not optional, and we hired back the professional we’d already found.

Finding companion care. What kind of assistance was Mel going to need when he left the hospital, deconditioned and weaker than when he went in?

When we spoke with the physician overseeing Mel’s care in the hospital, he suggested that “companion care” for at least a few weeks would be a good idea. Mel needed someone to help him up out of the chair, stay at his side while he walked to the bathroom and bring him a glass of water, among other tasks. (Also, we realized, we needed to arrange for meals to be delivered to Mel and for someone from his senior community to buy groceries for him—a service they’d started during the pandemic.)

An excellent organization that works with older adults in Mel’s area supplied me with a list of 21 agencies that provide these kinds of services—a dizzying array of choices.

Fortunately, the senior community where Mel lives recommended an agency that often works with its residents. We hired 24/7 care for several days after Mel left the hospital with the understanding that we’d continue services if necessary. Now, this agency is on our list of essential resources.

Understanding the options. Mel’s senior community incorporates assisted living and a nursing home for residents who need short-term rehabilitation services or longer-term, round-the-clock care.

But it was clear Mel wanted to go home after being in the hospital instead of going to that rehab. Medicare would pay for a few weeks of visits from nurses and physical and occupational therapists. Would that be enough to set him on the road to recovery? We had no idea.

If Mel couldn’t return to his previous level of functioning after returning home, he might need to transition to assisted living, where he could receive more medical oversight and assistance. How would this work? We didn’t know and asked the geriatric care manager to find out.

Getting paperwork in order. Years ago, Mel assigned power of attorney for his health care decisions and financial and legal affairs to my husband. So long as Mel can manage on his own, he makes his own decisions: The legal papers were a backup arrangement.

But Mel hadn’t prepared a document naming all three sons as his “personal representatives” under the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996. This waives privacy concerns and gives them access to his medical information. It went on our to-do list.

The brothers also didn’t have a complete list of Mel’s doctors, the medications he was on and why he was taking them. Another item for our list, especially important since Mel left the hospital with prescriptions for 14 medications, several of them new. While he’d always managed on his own before, in his post-hospital fog it was clear he was nervous about managing this complicated regimen.

Understanding the prognosis. Before Mel’s hospitalization, we knew his kidney function was worsening. But what lay ahead? Was dialysis even an option for a 92-year-old in this time of COVID-19?

Who was best prepared to help us understand Mel’s prognosis and the big picture?

I’ve written for years about geriatricians’ comprehensive approach to the health of older adults. It turns out there’s a top-notch group of geriatricians affiliated with the hospital where Mel was being treated.

After several calls, I reached one who agreed to see Mel after he was released from the hospital. Now, we have another new team member who can help us understand Mel’s health trajectory and issues that might arise going forward.

Having the conversation. What has yet to happen is the conversation that my husband hasn’t wanted to have. “Dad, if your health takes a turn for the worse again, what do you want? What’s most important to you? What does quality of life mean to you? And what can we do to help?”

With Mel’s hearing problems, doing this over the phone won’t do.

My husband would have to fly cross-country and, ideally, meet his New York brother at Mel’s place for a conversation of this kind. Before that happens, the brothers should talk among themselves. What’s their understanding of what Mel wants? Are they on the same page?

Also, no one has discussed financial arrangements.

Each time we explain to Mel one of the new services we’ve arranged, his first question is “What’s the cost?” His impulse is to guard his cherished savings and not to spend. My husband tells him he shouldn’t worry, but this too is a conversation that has to happen.

Being prepared. Professionally, I know a lot about the kinds of problems families encounter when an older relative becomes ill. Personally, I’ve learned that families don’t really understand what’s involved until they go through it on their own.

Now, Mel has a new set of supports in place that should help him weather the period ahead. And my husband is keenly aware that planning doesn’t stop here. He’ll be attending to his father far more carefully going forward.

 

Kaiser Health News: The Story Behind the Grant

KHN doubles its output during the Covid pandemic—with some help from Silver Century
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The year was 2016. By most accounts, print journalism was dying.

The rise of free digital content, the decline of trust in journalism and a drop in advertising revenue had led to what the Atlantic called a “print apocalypse.” Layoffs began; more layoffs were promised. Per the New York Times, “you would be hard-pressed to find a newsroom devoid of uncertainty anywhere in the country.” 

In the meantime, though, many online outlets were going strong. Silver Century Foundation, for one, had been publishing online articles about aging for more than half a decade. And through its growing, grantmaking efforts—now focused on directing media attention to aging-related topics—its influence was rising. 

As experienced journalists found themselves without employment, Kay Klotzburger, Silver Century’s founder and president, thought that now might be the perfect time to hire some of them to freelance. But she wasn’t alone. Another online outlet, Kaiser Health News, was also in the market for such writers. And Kaiser, backed in part by the formidable Kaiser Family Foundation, had readers in the millions—with a budget to match. 

As Klotzburger researched, she found that many seasoned journalists were, in fact, gravitating to Kaiser Health News. Instead of being daunted, she saw opportunity. 

Silver Century was publishing great content but was struggling to draw in a large readership. Since Klotzburger’s main goal was to get content both written and read, why not partner with an organization that already had a massive audience—plus a bigger staff?

Silver Century had already found success with a similar arrangement. In 2014, it became an ongoing funder for the Gerontological Society of America’s Journalists in Aging Fellowship Program, which was prompting exponentially more articles to be published about aging. But when it came to the Kaiser idea, there was a hitch. As Klotzburger put it, “Kaiser is a billion-dollar organization, and I’m a little minnow.” 

Step one: Get a foot in the door.

Kaiser Meets Silver Century 

Klotzburger asked her strategic planning consultant, Lois Favier, of New Experience NonProfit Services, to look into the possibility of working with Kaiser Health News.

“First, I did a little research,” Favier recalls. She found no clear way to contact Kaiser about grants. There was no donate button on the website, no call for funds. 

So she looked into which organizations were doing the funding, besides the Kaiser Family Foundation. “I discovered that these were highly well-known and wealthy foundations,” she says—organizations with hundreds of millions of dollars or more in their coffers. 

Given all this, did Kaiser Health News even need more funding? And without inside connections, could Silver Century find that out? Favier’s initial phone calls to the news outlet went unreturned. So Klotzburger tried to make contact herself. No luck.

It was an unusual situation—a foundation wanting to give away money but unable to get in touch with the entity it wanted to fund. Yet Klotzburger wasn’t about to give up. Around 2017, she enlisted David Goldsmith, a consultant to both nonprofits and foundations, to dive in further. 

The strategy was to identify ways in which KHN’s needs and mission aligned with Silver Century’s. 

Goldsmith took a new tack. Instead of contacting Kaiser Health News, he reached out to its main funder and publisher, Kaiser Family Foundation. And he did so with a tried-and-true strategy: identifying the needs of both the nonprofit and the foundation. 

“I’ve come to realize, it’s not about one keeping the other one alive,” he says. “The foundation has needs. The foundation has a mission. And the nonprofit has needs and a mission as well. So it’s about looking for how you can connect the two through a relationship that helps to meet both those needs.”

Goldsmith’s strategy worked. He was ultimately able to meet with Kaiser Family Foundation’s executive director of media and technology, David Rousseau, who is Kaiser Health News’ publisher.

“When I had that initial conversation with him,” Goldsmith says, “he mentioned that they had a fair amount of funding for the writing of articles on the issue of aging in general, but they did not have much funding for issues around the aging of baby boomers. So that kind of opened the door.” 

Goldsmith knew that Klotzburger was interested in aging well, no matter the age, so the two organizations’ needs would mesh. He set up a meeting with Rousseau and Klotzburger, “and the relationship built from there.”

A Unique Arrangement

For Kaiser, the relationship turned out to be an unusual one. About 60 percent of the funding for Kaiser Health News comes from the Kaiser Family Foundation. For the rest, Kaiser works mostly with large foundations in long-term partnerships.

The idea of working with a smaller funder that had a specific topic of interest was new. So there was a lot of internal discussion to be had. 

“It was kind of like, ‘Oh, this is cool. Well, do we do this? Can we do this?’” recalls Elisabeth Rosenthal, editor-in-chief of Kaiser Health News. Because the outlet was relatively young—it launched in 2009—it was also relatively flexible, she says. “The wonderful thing about Kaiser Health News is that we can look at each other and say, ‘Why don’t we do this?’”

One benefit of working with larger funders, though, is sustainability, Rousseau notes. “When we think about setting up a new program or expanding into a new geography, we want to make sure we can stay there for the long term and not just have a one- or two-year commitment to that region or that topic.”

On the topic of aging, Kaiser already had sustainable funding. Thanks to the Hartford Foundation and the Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation, Kaiser had a large team reporting on issues that older Americans face when they access health care—topics such as what the end of life looks like and how age-friendly hospitals are created.

But Klotzburger proposed a different angle: longevity. Silver Century’s tagline was “preparing for a longer life.” People were living longer but weren’t necessarily grasping what that entailed—and how to plan for it. 

… fortunately, with Silver Century, we found out it was a good fit.”

— Elisabeth Rosenthal

“As a society, we needed to start a more viable, informed conversation about longer lives and older people,” she says.

And this “sounded exactly like something I knew our newsroom wanted to cover that we didn’t have enough resources to cover,” Rousseau says. 

That was essential because of Kaiser’s commitment to maintaining a wall between funders and reporters. When a foundation approaches Kaiser to fund reporting on a topic, “the first question is, ‘Is this something that we’d do anyway, if we had additional money to do it?’” Rousseau says. If the answer is yes, Kaiser can take the grant. If it’s no, they can’t. “It’s the difference, really, between journalism and sponsored content.”

For example, large health care foundations often want more coverage on a specific disease, Rosenthal explains. Kaiser won’t take that money. But Klotzburger understood the boundaries “right from the start,” Rosenthal says. “And aging and longevity concern everyone. So it wasn’t a real niche issue.”

Over the next few months, Kaiser and Silver Century negotiated an agreement. The grant would be for one year, to start—not the multiple years Kaiser was accustomed to. And it would cover freelancers, not journalism salaries—another departure from the norm. 

For her part, Rosenthal was all for an outside-the-box arrangement. Because of Kaiser’s flexibility, “we can try a partnership with a new grantmaker or with a new media partner—or try a new form of journalism. And if it doesn’t work, we gave it our best, and no bad feelings, hopefully—it wasn’t a good fit. But fortunately, with Silver Century, we found out it was a good fit.”

A Massive Reach

In the first year—September 2018 to September 2019—Silver Century’s grant supported 31 articles. In year two, Silver Century supported 21 articles. Klotzburger has committed to a third year (2020-2021), upping the grant award by 50 percent. 

As a nonprofit, Kaiser Health News allows other outlets to republish articles for free with attribution. Silver Century-supported stories have been republished by myriad organizations, including CNN, the New York Times, NPR, USA Today, Time, Yahoo and ABC News.

“These are stories we wouldn’t be able to produce if not for the support from the Silver Century Foundation,” Rousseau says. 

They’re also topics that are under-covered in general. “Most of the reporting about care for seniors is looking at what happens when they’re sick,” Rousseau says. “A lot of the reporting we’ve been able to do with the support of Silver Century is focused more on healthy aging.”

During the Covid pandemic, KHN doubled its output, thanks to grantmakers like Silver Century. 

“The grants go into our sense of mission and purpose, and how we choose to assign our reporters to stories,” Rosenthal says. “The grants align with what we would like to cover anyway, but often, we wouldn’t have the resources to cover that without the grants.”

For example, during the COVID pandemic—a disease that disproportionately affected older people—Kaiser Health News “doubled the output of our stories,” Rosenthal says, “and that’s because of our grantmakers, who’ve allowed us to expand our staff and our freelance assignments.”

As the nation ages, “there really is so much to think about—particularly in this area of longevity,” Rosenthal says. “We all should be invested in this because we’re all going to be there [older] someday.”

Klotzburger now has frequent conversations with Rousseau and Rosenthal, lending insights and information. “Silver Century has been a really model funder,” Rousseau says. “They’ve respected that editorially independent firewall, but they’ve also contributed lots of ideas that have made our coverage smarter and better.”

Supported Articles

Here are just some of the Kaiser Health News articles that the Silver Century Foundation’s grant supported in 2020:

Left Behind in the ‘Cruel’ Race for Vaccines

Many seniors are stymied by computer hassles and jammed phone lines 
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Many Americans are competing for COVID shots right now, but older people with few computer skills are having a particularly difficult time. In this article, written for Kaiser Health News (KHN) and NPR, journalist Will Stone explores the problem and some attempts to solve it. Stone’s story was posted on the KHN website on Feb. 4, 2021, and also ran on NPR. It was produced as part of a partnership that includes NPR and KHN. Funding from the Silver Century Foundation helps KHN develop articles (like this one) on longevity and related health and social issues.

With millions of older Americans eligible for COVID-19 vaccines and limited supplies, many continue to describe a frantic and frustrating search to secure a shot, beset by uncertainty and difficulty. 

The efforts to vaccinate people 65 and older have strained under the enormous demand that has overwhelmed cumbersome, inconsistent, scheduling systems.

The struggle represents a shift from the first wave of vaccinations—health care workers in health care settings—which went comparatively smoothly. Now, in most places, elderly people are pitted against one another, competing on an unstable technological playing field for limited shots.

“You can’t have the vaccine distribution be a race between elderly people typing and younger people typing,” said Jeremy Novich, a clinical psychologist in New York City, who has begun a group to help people navigate the technology to get appointments. “That’s not a race. That’s just cruel.”

While the demand is an encouraging sign of public trust in the vaccines, the challenges facing seniors also speak to the country’s fragmented approach, which has left many confused and enlisting family members to hunt down appointments. 

Some public health departments have been inundated and are trying to hire more staff. 

“It’s just maddening,” said Bill Walsh, with AARP. “It should be a smooth pathway, from signing up to getting the vaccine, and that’s just not what we’re seeing so far.” 

Glitchy websites, jammed phone lines and long lines outside clinics have become commonplace as states expand who’s eligible—sometimes triggering a mad dash for shots that can sound more like trying to score a ticket for a music festival than obtaining a lifesaving vaccine. 

After being inundated, some public health departments are trying to hire more staff members to handle their vaccination hotlines and specifically target seniors who may not be able to navigate a complicated, online, sign-up process.  

“Just posting a website and urging people to go there is not a recipe for success,” said Walsh. 

‘Terribly Competitive’ 

Like many other seniors, Colleen Brooks, 85, had trouble sorting through the myriad online resources about how to find the vaccine where she lives, on Vashon Island in the Puget Sound near Seattle.

“It was an overwhelming amount of information,” she said. “I knew it was here someplace, but it wasn’t easy to find out how to get it.”

After making calls, Brooks eventually got a tip from a friend, who had spotted the vaccines being unloaded at their town pharmacy. When she dropped by her health clinic to inquire about how to sign up, it happened they were giving out shots that same day.  

“That was totally serendipitous for me, but I actually personally know several seniors who just kind of gave up,” said Brooks. 

Finding out how to get a vaccine appointment was more straightforward for Gerald Kahn, 76, who lives in Madison, CT. 

Kahn got an email notice from the state’s vaccine registration system telling him to make an appointment, but he ran into problems at the very end of the sign-up process. 

“As much as I would pound my finger on the face of my iPad, it didn’t do me any good,” he said.

So Kahn did what many have and called a younger family member, who was able to help him finish signing up. 

“I think there are a lot of people my age, maybe the preponderance, who can only go so far into the internet, and then we’re not only stymied but also frustrated,” he said. 

Patients in this age group want to know that they’re at least being heard, or somebody is thinking about the challenges they have.

—Philip Bretsky, MD

When Helen Francke, 92, logged on for a vaccine at the designated time, she discovered the spots available in Washington, DC, filled up almost instantaneously. 

“It was evident that I was much too slow,” she said. “It’s terribly competitive and clearly favors those with advanced computer skills.” 

The next week, Francke tried calling and going online—this time with the help of her neighbors—without success.

“If I had had to depend on the DC vaccination website and telephone, I’d still be anxious and unsuccessful,” said Francke, who got a shot only after finding information on a neighborhood discussion group that directed her to a hospital. 

In Arizona, Karen Davis, 80, ended up on a roundabout quest through state and hospital websites with no clear sense of how to actually book an appointment. 

“I kept trying to do it and kind of banged my head against the wall too many times,” she said. 

Davis, a retired nurse, called her doctor and the pharmacy and then eventually turned to a younger relative, who managed to book a 5 a.m. appointment at a mass vaccination site. 

“I’m sure they did not expect older people to be able to do this,” she said. 

Miguel Lerma, who lives in Phoenix, said his 69-year-old mother has been unsuccessful in finding a shot. 

“She’s not an English speaker and doesn’t know technology well, and that’s how everything is being done,” said Lerma, 31. 

Lerma said it’s especially painful to watch his mother struggle to get the vaccine—because he lost his father to Covid last year. 

“She’s mourning not only for my dad, but she’s also suffering as an adult now because she depended on him for certain tasks,” Lerma said. “He would’ve handled all this.” 

‘Desperate’ Seniors Look for Help  

Philip Bretsky, a primary care doctor in Southern California, said his older patients would typically call him or visit a pharmacy for vaccines like the annual flu shot, rather than rely on novel, online, scheduling systems. 

“That’s not how 85-year-olds have interacted with the health care system, so it’s a complete disconnect,” he said. “These folks are basically just investing a lot of time and not getting anything out of it.” 

California’s recent decision to change its vaccination plan and open it up to those over 65 only adds to the confusion. 

Bretsky said his patients are being told to call their doctor for information, but he isn’t even sure when his office, which is authorized to give the vaccines, will receive any. 

“Patients in this age group want to know that they’re at least being heard or somebody is thinking about the challenges they have,” he said. 

People are really desperate.… It’s a big mess.

—Jeremy Novich

There are some local efforts to make that happen.  

In the village of Los Lunas, NM, public health workers held an in-person, sign-up event for seniors who needed assistance or simply a device connected to the internet. 

A Florida senior center recently held a vaccination registration event and a clinic specifically for people over 80 who might not have a computer. 

Novich, the clinical psychologist in New York, teamed up with a few other people to create an informal help service for older adults. It began as a small endeavor, advertised through a few synagogues and his Facebook page. They’ve now helped more than 100 people get shots.  

“We have a huge number of requests that are just piling up,” said Novich. 

“People are really desperate, and they’re also confused because nobody has actually explained to them when they are expected to get vaccinated.… It’s a big mess.” 

The ongoing shortage of vaccines has led Novich to halt the service for now. 

 

In the Red

More and more older adults are in debt at retirement age—and beyond
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At age 50, Sarah Smith found herself divorced, bankrupt and saddled with debts inherited from her ex-husband. When her two children chose to attend private colleges, she took out student loans. Now, at 66, Smith (not her real name) still owes about $60,000.

“Pretty much everyone told me to not take on college debt, but I wasn’t going to let my kids suffer because of their dad’s irresponsibility,” she said. 

In finding herself still in debt as she nears retirement age, Smith is far from alone. Financial debt among older Americans has skyrocketed in recent decades. And that trend was well underway before the COVID-19 pandemic—a source of financial calamity for many. 

From 1999 to 2019, total debt for Americans over 70 increased 543 percent. That’s the largest percentage increase for any age group, according to the Federal Reserve Bank of New York. Similarly, those in their 60s have seen their debts—including mortgages, auto loans, medical bills and other credit—balloon by 471 percent. Many who are nearing retirement age feel their debts are excessive and say they are financially distressed, according to a report by the TIAA Institute. 

Few statistics are available so far on the impact of COVID-19 on older people’s finances, but one study found that the nonmortgage debt burden of the average retiree doubled in 2020. Forced early retirement, job loss or reduced hours are likely contributors. 

Experts don’t expect the situation to improve any time soon.

“We’ve had two significant economic crises in barely over a decade,” said Mark Hamrick, senior economic analyst for Bankrate.com. “Many people were still trying to claw their way back to their previous position, having suffered setbacks from the Great Recession [of 2008]. Now they have the interruptions in income and employment due to the pandemic.” 

As a result, many people turned 65 during the last year after spending the past 12 years fighting just to stay afloat. They saved little or no money for retirement during their 50s, the decade when financial planners traditionally advise investors to focus on building a nest egg. Some were forced to start taking Social Security payments earlier, decreasing the monthly amount they’ll receive in their remaining years.

Once, paying off the mortgage was a big goal in life. Now, people refinance their mortgages to borrow cash. 

“For those lucky enough to become re-employed [after a job loss], many had to switch occupations and take a pay cut,” said Lori Trawinski, director of finance and employment for AARP’s Public Policy Institute. “And some gave up looking for a job.” 

Many Americans carry debt—most financial experts would say too much debt. Younger people have many years of earning power ahead to pay off debt; for an older adult, finding a full-time job that pays well becomes increasingly difficult. Those with health problems may not have the ability to work at all. 

Debbie Burkham, a financial coach with the Elder Financial Safety Center at the Senior Source in Dallas, sees a variety of reasons why older adults carry debt: job loss, medical bills, divorce, student loans and support they provide for adult children and grandchildren. Plus, she adds, it’s easy for Americans of any age to get credit. 

“In the 1970s and 1980s, you applied by mail for a credit card and waited several weeks, hoping for a credit line of maybe $500 to $1,000,” she said. Today, many find their mailboxes full of letters offering pre-approved credit cards. For those with bad credit, there are always payday loan businesses, which charge exorbitant interest rates and added fees for late repayment. 

Credit cards aren’t the only source of temptation. 

“Our financial system now allows for easy refinancing of a home, which gives the borrower cash for any purpose: to improve their home or to pay for college, to buy a new car or to pay off another debt,” Trawinski said. 

Contrast that to older adults of a generation or two ago, who had an aversion to debt after surviving the Great Depression of the 1930s. For that generation, “Paying off the mortgage was a big goal in life,” Trawinski said. “People would have mortgage burning parties, because it was a cause to celebrate.” 

How Debt Accrues

Why do so many people reach retirement age still owing money? 

Student loans are one surprising source of debt. A 2017 study by the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau found that the number of American consumers ages 60 and older with student loan debt quadrupled between 2005 and 2015, from 700,000 to 2.8 million. A few are paying off their own loans or those of a spouse, but the majority had funded the education of a child or grandchild, either by taking out a loan or acting as a cosigner.

Women and people of color are particularly burdened by college debt. The American Association of University Women found that Black women reported the highest levels of outstanding debt compared to white men and white women, with Black women racking up $37,558 in undergraduate loans, compared to $31,346 for white women. Nearly 60 percent of Black women report financial difficulties while repaying college loans. 

Then there are the adults in midlife (40-64) who provide financial support to their parents or their adult children—or both—according to an AARP telephone survey. Half of midlife adults continue paying for basic expenses like cell phone bills, groceries and rent for children over 25; nearly a third report providing similar financial support for their parents. This creates financial pressures that reduce retirement savings during a crucial period for building wealth.

Sometimes debt leads to deeper debt.

Another pitfall: medical costs that typically increase as people age, coupled with the skyrocketing price of health care and insurance. Even older adults with good insurance may end up owing thousands of dollars in deductibles and copayments after a single medical episode. 

On top of all of that, older adults are often targeted by scammers and unscrupulous salespeople. Burkham counseled an older man who was pushed to buy a new car every time he took his car into a dealership for repairs. The new purchases were rolled into his existing car loan. Now he’s driving a Ford Taurus with car payments of $900 a month. 

In some cases, debt just leads to deeper debt. Burkham worked with a client in her early 70s whose credit cards were maxed out.

“She lost her job, and health issues kept her from going back to work,” she said. “She used her credit cards to fill the gaps until her credit was maxed out.” Living on only about $1,500 a month in Social Security, the client can’t make even the minimum payments. Without the means to pay an attorney, bankruptcy isn’t an option. Right now, the woman is relying on the generosity of friends to survive. 

Who’s in Debt

Black people and lower-income earners are hardest hit, and much is based on socioeconomic inequalities. 

For example, before the pandemic, the unemployment rate among Black Americans was twice that of white Americans. Black workers earn less than white workers with similar education and experience. Other factors include historically low home ownership, lower rates of savings, less participation in the stock market and less generational wealth passed down from family members among people of color. 

According to a report by the Employee Benefit Research Institute, pre-COVID, families with Black or Hispanic heads of household had much higher debt-to-asset ratios compared to those households headed by non-Hispanic white people. Families with minority heads were more likely to be saddled with debt payments that represented more than 40 percent of their income. And that money owed was more often the result of consumer debt (such as credit cards or student loans) rather than housing debt (mortgages or home equity loans). That’s bad news, because families with mortgages build wealth through homeownership; consumer debt is a “sunk cost” with no future pay-off, and usually at higher rates of interest. 

Depression and Desperation

Debt represents more than a number on the wrong side of a financial ledger. Debt can negatively affect mental health at midlife and beyond. One survey of older adults in Miami-Dade County, FL, found more symptoms of depression, anxiety and anger among older adults who reported excessive levels of debt.

“Debtor status is more consistently associated with mental health than any other single traditional indicator of socioeconomic status,” the report said.

A National Council on Aging survey found that older adults often make tradeoffs to save money, such as foregoing needed home or auto repairs (23 percent), cutting pills to save money on medications (15 percent) or skipping meals or medical appointments (almost 14 percent). 

If that isn’t enough, an older person in debt may be harassed by debt collectors. Some may find their cars repossessed or end up evicted from an apartment because they can’t pay the rent.  

Tackling the Problem

Borrowing money is just one part of the problem. The other side of the coin is not saving enough and not having the financial literacy to know better. 

Most Americans no longer receive pensions from their employers and must rely on 401(k)s or other retirement savings plans. Hamrick of Bankrate.com says few Americans understand how much money they need to fund their retirement, especially in light of longer lifespans and growing costs of housing and health care. In some cases, debt becomes the only way to make ends meet. 

“As a society, we don’t do an adequate job of teaching financial literacy,” he said. “The onus to put money aside has been shifted to individuals, and it’s difficult to compel individuals to save.” 

Similarly, the TIAA study noted that many older adults nearing retirement age don’t understand basics about finance, such as how debt can quickly double on money borrowed at high rates of interest. Trawinski of AARP added that, as people age, they’re more likely to lose a spouse to death, but many don’t plan for living without the spouse’s earnings. 

A debt-consolidation loan can help, provided you don’t just revert to credit-card spending afterward.

For older adults in debt, experts suggest a traditional remedy: making a budget and sticking to it. They advise taking care of the basics first—rent, utilities, food, drugs and medical care—and then looking for ways to keep those costs as low as possible, and to save money for unexpected expenses. 

“I advise people to try to build up a savings of at least a few hundred dollars,” said Burkham of the Elder Financial Safety Center, “so they’ll be ready for those nonregular expenses that people end up putting on a credit card,” such as car repairs. To help keep monthly expenses down, she helps low-income adults apply for government assistance programs that help with expenses like food, transportation, Medicare premiums and prescription drugs. 

Credit counseling could help some people. Debt-management companies can assist in creating a manageable repayment plan. These services are not free, however, and Burkham advises choosing one that’s affiliated with the National Foundation for Credit Counseling, not a for-profit debt-settlement company that may charge higher fees. 

Debt-consolidation loans might be an option for older adults with a steady income and the discipline to not fall back into credit-card spending. Home refinancing or reverse mortgages may be good options in some cases, but older adults should seek advice from a trusted expert before proceeding. 

Working Longer

For most older Americans, debt means they will have to work longer and postpone retirement. That’s the fate facing Bonnie Jones (not her real name), 62. She planned to retire at age 60, but she’s still saddled with about $10,000 in credit-card debt, plus a mortgage. That’s whittled down from the six figures in debt she inherited from a divorce 10 years ago. She’ll need to work another three to five years before retiring. 

“I’ve been very focused on paying down the debt, and I just feel lucky that I’ve been able to earn a good salary,” she said. 

Financial experts note that not all debt among older adults is necessarily problematic. Some debts, like mortgages at record-low interest rates, may make sense, according to the Center for Retirement Research at Boston College.

“Given longer life expectancies and extended labor force participation rates of older workers, and improving health status, households may optimally choose to maintain mortgage debt later in life,” one report notes.

Debt can also serve as a positive source of motivation that keeps older adults engaged in the workforce. Sarah Smith is still in debt but also feels she’s just hitting her stride professionally. She started a successful legal referral business just a few years ago and feels more confident than ever about her money situation. 

“I have more money in the bank now than ever, a large amount of equity in my home, a growing business and an extremely positive outlook,” she said. “Had I not hit rock bottom, I might not have created such a massive success.”

 

Older COVID Patients Battle ‘Brain Fog’ 

For those who have been critically ill, a full recovery can take months
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Most older people who develop COVID-19 survive it, but release from the hospital is often followed by a long and difficult recuperation. Journalist Judith Graham explains what that’s like and what needs to be done to help them. She wrote her article for Kaiser Health News, and it was posted on the KHN website on Oct. 20, 2020. It also ran on CNN. 

“Lord, give me back my memory.”

For months, as Marilyn Walters has struggled to recover from COVID-19, she has repeated this prayer day and night.

Like other older adults who’ve become critically ill from the coronavirus, Walters, 65, describes what she calls “brain fog”—difficulty putting thoughts together, problems with concentration, the inability to remember what happened a short time before.

This sudden, cognitive dysfunction is a common concern for seniors who’ve survived a serious bout of COVID-19.

“Many older patients are having trouble organizing themselves and planning what they need to do to get through the day,” said Zijian Chen, MD, medical director of the Center for Post-COVID Care at Mount Sinai Health System in New York City. “They’re reporting that they’ve become more and more forgetful.”

Other challenges abound: overcoming muscle and nerve damage, improving breathing, adapting to new impairments, regaining strength and stamina and coping with the emotional toll of unexpected illness.

Most seniors survive COVID-19 and will encounter these concerns to varying degrees. Even among the age group at greatet risk—people 85 and older—just 28 percent of those with confirmed cases end up dying, according to data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. (Because of gaps in testing, the actual death rate may be lower.)

A year after being critically ill with COVID, at least half of older patients will not have fully recovered.

Walters, who lives in Indianapolis, IN, spent almost three weeks in March and April heavily sedated, on a ventilator, fighting for her life in intensive care. Today, she said, “I still get tired real easy and I can’t breathe sometimes. If I’m walking, sometimes my legs get wobbly and my arms get like jelly.”

“Emotionally, it’s been hard because I’ve always been able to do for myself, and I can’t do that as I like. I’ve been really nervous and jittery,” Walters said.

Younger adults who’ve survived a serious course of COVID-19 experience similar issues, but older adults tend to have “more severe symptoms, and more limitations in terms of what they can do,” Chen said.

“Recovery will be on the order of months and years, not days or weeks,” said E. Wesley Ely, MD, co-director of the Critical Illness, Brain Dysfunction and Survivorship Center at Vanderbilt University Medical Center. Most likely, he speculated, a year after fighting the disease at least half of the critically ill older patients will not have fully recovered.

The aftereffects of delirium—an acute, sudden change of consciousness and mental acuity—can complicate recovery from COVID-19. Seniors hospitalized for serious illness are susceptible to the often-unrecognized condition when they’re immobilized for a long time, isolated from family and friends and given sedatives to ease agitation or narcotics for pain, among other contributing factors.

In older adults, delirium is associated with a heightened risk of losing independence, developing dementia and dying. It can manifest as acute confusion and agitation or as uncharacteristic unresponsiveness and lethargy.

“What we’re seeing with COVID-19 and older adults are rates of delirium in the 70 percent to 80 percent range,” said Babar Khan, MD, associate director of Indiana University’s Center for Aging Research at the Regenstrief Institute, and one of Walters’ physicians.

Family members should insist on rehab therapy after a patient leaves the hospital and returns home. 

Gordon Quinn, 77, a Chicago documentary filmmaker, believes he contracted COVID-19 at a conference in Australia in early March. At Northwestern Memorial Hospital, he was put on a ventilator twice in the ICU, for a total of nearly two weeks, and remembers having “a lot of hallucinations”—a symptom of delirium.

“I remember vividly believing I was in purgatory. I was paralyzed—I couldn’t move. I could hear snatches of TV—reruns of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit—and I asked myself, ‘Is this my life for eternity?’” Quinn said.

Given the extent of delirium and mounting evidence of neurological damage from COVID-19, Khan said he expects to see “an increased prevalence of ICU-acquired, cognitive impairment in older COVID patients.”

Ely agrees. “These patients will urgently need to work on recovery,” he said. Family members should insist on securing rehabilitation services—physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy, cognitive rehabilitation—after the patient leaves the hospital and returns home, he advised.

“Even at my age, people can get incredible benefit from rehab,” said Quinn, who spent nearly two weeks at Chicago’s Shirley Ryan AbilityLab, a rehabilitation hospital, before returning home and getting several weeks of home-based therapy. Today, he’s able to walk nearly 2 miles and has returned to work, feeling almost back to normal.

James Talaganis, 72, of Indian Head Park, IL, also benefited from rehab at Shirley Ryan AbilityLab after spending nearly four months in various hospitals beginning in early May.

Talaganis had a complicated case of COVID-19: his kidneys failed, and he was put on dialysis. He experienced cardiac arrest and was in a coma for almost 58 days while on a ventilator. He had intestinal bleeding, requiring multiple blood transfusions, and was found to have crystallization and fibrosis in his lungs.

When Talaganis began his rehab on Aug. 22, he said, “my whole body, my muscles were atrophied. I couldn’t get out of bed or go to the toilet. I was getting fed through a tube. I couldn’t eat solid foods.”

In early October, after getting hours of therapy each day, Talaganis was able to walk 660 feet in six minutes and eat whatever he wanted. “My recovery—it’s a miracle. Every day I feel better,” he said.

To recover from a critical illness, sometimes what patients need most is human connections. 

Unfortunately, rehabilitation needs for most older adults are often overlooked. Notably, a recent study found that one-third of critically ill older adults who survive a stay in the ICU did not receive rehab services at home after hospital discharge.

“Seniors who live in more rural areas or outside bigger cities where major hospital systems are providing cutting-edge services are at significant risk of losing out on this potentially restorative care,” said Sean Smith, MD, an associate professor of physical medicine and rehabilitation at the University of Michigan.

Sometimes what’s most needed for recovery from critical illness is human connection. That was true for Tom and Virginia Stevens of Nashville, TN, in their late 80s, who were both hospitalized with COVID-19 in early August.

Ely, one of their physicians, found them in separate hospital rooms, frightened and miserable. “I’m worried about my husband,” he said Virginia told him. “Where am I? What is happening? Where is my wife?” the doctor said Tom asked, before crying out, “I have to get out of here.”

Ely and another physician taking care of the couple agreed. Being isolated from each other was dangerous for this couple, married for 66 years. They needed to be put in a room together.

When the doctor walked into their new room the next day, he said, “it was a night-and-day difference.” The couple was sipping coffee, eating and laughing on beds that had been pushed together.

“They both got better from that point on. I know that was because of the loving touch, being together,” Ely said.

That doesn’t mean recovery has been easy. Virginia and Tom still struggle with confusion, fatigue, weakness and anxiety after their two-week stay in the hospital, followed by two weeks in inpatient rehabilitation. Now, they’re in a new assisted living residence, which is allowing outdoor visits with their family.

“Doctors have told us it will take a long time and they may never get back to where they were before COVID,” said their daughter, Karen Kreager, also of Nashville. “But that’s OK. I’m just so grateful that they came through this and we get to spend more time with them.”

 

Climate Change Endangers Many Older Adults

Yet it’s seniors who worry the least about climate-related disasters
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In 2007, Larry Howe watched a documentary called The Great Global Warming Swindle, which denied the threat of climate change. Convinced, he put the issue out of his mind. 

But that changed a few years later when Howe’s first grandchild was born. A retired engineer, Howe, 64, dug deeper into the science. Now he’s active with the Citizens’ Climate Lobby and talks to local groups, like the Rotary Club and Kiwanis, in Plano, TX, where he lives. He’s often met with skepticism—especially among people in his own age group. 

“Most don’t think they’ll be negatively impacted themselves,” he said. “They may agree that climate change is a serious problem but think ‘I won’t be around for it. It’ll get worse, but after I’m gone.’” 

If anybody should be concerned about the issue, it would seem to be older people, who stand to suffer more from climate-change-related problems—from weather disasters to air pollution. And many, like Howe, do grow more concerned about the future when grandchildren arrive. Yet many older adults remain unprepared for disasters in their own homes and communities, and studies suggest elders are less concerned about climate change than their younger counterparts.

So why the disconnect? 

Climate Disasters and Later Life

Climate change is triggering more frequent and more disastrous weather events, and older adults stand to suffer the most. Nearly half of those who died in 2005 during Hurricane Katrina were 75 or older. In 2012, when Hurricane Sandy hit New York and New Jersey, almost half of those who died were over age 65.

“Older adults are more vulnerable and experience more casualties after a natural disaster, compared to other age groups,” according to a study from the American Red Cross Scientific Advisory Council and the American Academy of Nursing. The study cited the likelihood that older adults will have chronic conditions and rely on medications, and will be dependent on assistive devices (like walkers or eyeglasses) and support from caregivers. Older people are also more likely to live alone, leaving them even more vulnerable. Those with mobility limitations are at greater risk, because it’s more difficult to get out of harm’s way. 

From 2015 to 2019, the United States saw at least 10 massive, climate-related disaster events each year, with each incurring a loss of $1 billion or more—the longest streak since record keeping began in 1980. In 2020, as of October 7, the United States was affected by 16 climate-related disasters with losses per event exceeding $1 billion: one drought, 11 severe storms, three hurricanes and one wildfire. 

“As we respond to disasters, we see the heartbreak of … communities dealing with the new realities of more intense storms, heavier rainfall, higher temperatures, stronger hurricanes and historic wildfires,” the Red Cross said in a 2019 statement on climate change. 

At the same time, older people are less likely than others to be prepared in the event of a major disaster. One 2014 survey found that two-thirds of adults 50 or older had no emergency plan, had never participated in any disaster preparedness educational program and were not aware of the availability of relevant resources. More than a third of respondents lacked a basic supply of food, water or medical supplies in case of emergency.  

Chronic Problems Made Worse

Older people often suffer from chronic health problems that can be exacerbated by climate change. Global warming leads to longer allergy seasons and more air pollution, affecting people with allergies, asthma and other lung conditions. As heat waves grow more and more extreme, older people stand to suffer more, and need to stay in more, especially those who retired to sunbelt states like Arizona. Some scientists speculate that climate change might also mean more risk from new infectious diseases—such as COVID-19—and might make people who live with polluted air more vulnerable to them.

Climate change also affects the costs of living. Energy expenditures to keep a home air conditioned go up as the temperatures rise. Home insurance rates skyrocket in areas subject to disasters like wildfires, flooding and hurricanes; in some cases, homeowners can’t even get insurance.

“So, you have increasing costs at a time when your income is fixed,” said Howe. “Age is like a threat multiplier when it comes to climate change.” 

Attitudes toward Climate Change

But while there’s a consensus among scientific, disaster-response and medical experts that climate change disproportionately threatens the health and safety of older adults, that’s not reflected in the attitudes of this age group. Older people seem even less aware than their younger counterparts of the threats they face.

Michael “Mick” Smyer has researched older adults’ attitudes toward climate change. He is a gerontologist, professor emeritus of psychology at Bucknell University and the founder and CEO of Growing Greener: Climate Action for a Warming World, an organization that promotes education related to climate change. 

While concern and awareness are increasing among people of all ages, there are some age differences. Smyer points to research and analysis from the Yale Program on Climate Change Communication. When asked, “How worried are you about global warming?,” 72 percent of younger people (ages 18-39) reported they were “somewhat” or “very” worried. By contrast, only 61 percent of baby boomers (ages 56-74) and 56 percent of those 75 or older reported the same levels of concern.

The lack of awareness and disaster preparation among older adults might relate to human nature—our capacity to dismiss danger when it’s not imminent. When asked, “How much do you think global warming will harm you personally?,” the age differences narrowed, with 44 percent of younger people responding “a moderate amount” or “a great deal,” compared to 41 percent of boomers and 39 percent of the oldest respondents. 

“That’s not a big difference,” Smyer said. “Can we find older adults who are members of the climate change denial club? Absolutely. Look at the ranking, senior, US senators. But can you generalize to all older adults? No.” 

Natural disasters make the news, but climate change itself gets less than one percent of airtime.

However, Smyer thinks there may be age differences in the way that older people prepare for disasters. Smyer, 70, was born and raised in New Orleans; Hurricane Katrina was the impetus that spurred his interest in climate change. He thinks more older adults died in Katrina, in part, because they’d lived through many hurricanes before and chose not to evacuate. Most were able to weather the hurricane itself—but not the flooding and prolonged disaster that followed when the levees broke. 

“Older adults thought they knew how to survive hurricanes,” he said. “And in a sense, they did. They were the ones who had axes in their attics, to chop their way through the roof to survive a flood. But many thought, ‘I’ve learned from previous, similar disasters and I can generalize to this situation.’ Except the conditions changed, and that’s what people don’t appreciate.” 

Smyer attributes the disconnect between awareness and action to what he calls society’s “climate silence habit.” Natural disasters make the news, but the bigger and longer-term cause—climate change—tends to fall to the background.

The 24-hour news cycle saturates viewers with news of weather events, but climate change gets very little airtime. Media Matters, a US media watchdog, calculated that only 0.3 percent (55 of 16,000 total minutes) of evening news airtime on the major TV networks (ABC, CBS and NBC) was dedicated to climate change in 2018. (That’s compared to 28 percent of news minutes dedicated to President Trump.) 

Some efforts for change are underway. Until recently, TV meteorologists traditionally avoided discussing climate change on the air, wishing to avoid appearing too political. Now many are bringing up the issue regularly, and even talking about possible ways to tackle it, according to a panel of meteorologists and policy experts convened at the 2020 meeting of the American Meteorological Society. 

“Broadcasters have an unusually good platform from which to engage,” said Ed Maibac, the director of the Center for Climate Change Communication at George Mason University. He noted that weather casters telling local stories about climate change have increased more than 50-fold over the last eight years.

Making the Message Stick

Rick Lent, 72, didn’t think much about climate change until a conversation with his college-age granddaughter two years ago. 

“Please tell me there’s something to be hopeful about in the future environment I’m living into,” she said. “Because I’m really scared.” 

That spurred Lent to activism through the Boston chapter of Elder Climate Action. He shares the conversation he had with his granddaughter when he speaks to groups of older adults at senior centers and community centers. Often, he has to hold back tears. 

“I have to watch my emotions when I tell that story,” he said. “That really personalizes it.” 

Smyer thinks that’s key. “The best way to reach older adults is through family members,” he said. He created a deck of climate-change cards to encourage young people—from elementary–aged kids to college students—to start the conversation. 

Their attitude [to climate change] is, “I’m not going to be around to fight that battle, so what can I do?”

— Rick Lent 

“What’s really clear to me is that older adults are not just potential victims but also potential leaders of climate action,” Smyer said. 

Lent says he sees two kinds of responses among older adults when he talks about climate change. 

“Well educated, middle- or upper-middle-class people don’t seem to be paying much attention,” he said. “I can’t say why except that they did what they were supposed to do —raised families, put money in their 401K—and now they’re retired and enjoying life. Their attitude is, ‘I’m not going to be around to fight that battle, so what can I do?’” 

He says it’s even more difficult to engage low-income people of color. 

“Those are the people most impacted by climate change and who have the fewest resources to deal with it,” he said. “If you can’t afford to put in air conditioning in your home, you’re not thinking about working to improve local air quality.”

Where Lent lives in Massachusetts, the biggest threat from climate change is the increasing number of severe heat waves, which affect older people most directly.

“It’s a problem, but then people forget and move on,” he said. 

Separating Science and Politics 

Politics is a big part of what informs attitudes toward climate change, Smyer said, and older adults are more likely to lean conservative; that may serve to reinforce their skepticism. Research shows that those who identify as left-leaning tend to express more concern about climate change and want more action to reduce its effects. Conservative older adults also tend to express significantly less concern than their Generation Z or millennial Republican counterparts, according to a Pew Research Center survey.

Howe, who is a conservative Republican, hopes science, not politics, can inform older adults’ views on the issue. He worries climate change has become politicized in a way that tends to make people of all ages resistant to scientific facts, noting the growing distrust in science he sees in response to the COVID-19 pandemic. But he’s also hopeful that education can help change some minds. 

“When I talk to groups, I try to address skeptics in the audience,” he said. “I try to get people to think that this isn’t just a political, polarizing issue. I share my personal journey. I thought fixing climate change meant killing the economy. It doesn’t have to. There are a lot of ways to solve it.” 

What Will Later Life Be Like Beyond COVID-19?

Older people anticipate changes and challenges ahead
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At a time when the future seems unknowable—except that the “new normal” may not be much like the past—journalist Judith Graham talked to almost a dozen older people about their own hopes and fears. Her article was posted on the Kaiser Health News (KHN) website on July 7, 2020. Funding from the Silver Century Foundation helps KHN develop articles (like this one) on longevity and related health and social issues.

Months into the coronavirus pandemic, older adults are having a hard time envisioning their “new normal.”

Many remain fearful of catching the virus and plan to follow strict precautions—social distancing, wearing masks and gloves, limiting excursions to public places—for the indefinite future.

Mortality is no longer an abstraction for those who have seen friends and relatives die of COVID-19. Death has an immediate presence as never before.

Many people are grieving the loss of their old lives and would love nothing better than to pick up where they left off. Others are convinced their lives will never be the same.

“We’re at the cusp of a new world,” said Harry Hutson, 72, an organizational consultant and executive coach who lives in Baltimore.

He’s among nearly a dozen older adults who discussed the “new normal” in lengthy conversations. All acknowledged their vulnerability as states across the country lifted stay-at-home orders. (Adults 65 and older are more likely to become critically ill if infected with the coronavirus.) Here’s some of what they said:

Willetha, 67, and Harold, 68, Barnette, of Durham, NC. The Barnettes are an unusual couple: they divorced in 1995 but began living together again in 2014 when both Willetha and her elderly mother became ill, and Harold returned to help.

For Willetha, who has Crohn’s disease and is immunocompromised, the “new normal” is characterized by vigilance—masks, gloves, disinfectants, social distancing, working remotely (she’s a development officer at a school).

“I’m not going to be comfortable freely moving around this world until they’re able to do reliable antibody testing and there is a vaccine,” she said. “Right now, I think we all have to learn to live smaller.”

I’m preparing myself for a different social order.

—Harold Barnette

Harold believes that self-reliance and local support networks are more important than ever. “To me, the pandemic reveals troubling things about the state of institutions in our society. The elder care system is rotten and the health care system full of neglect,” he said.

“I’m preparing myself for a different social order. I’m thinking that will be built on relationships with family and people near to us and we’ll all be helping each other out more.”

Patricia Griffin, 80, of Oxford, PA. Griffin is a retired microbiologist who lives alone in a continuing care community and loves to travel. In March, as the coronavirus pandemic gathered steam, she was due to take a trip to the Amazon, which was canceled.

I’m leaning toward being cautious but not being completely a prisoner.

—Patricia Griffin

“I envision conditions for seniors being restrictive until we have a vaccine,” Griffin said. “That makes me angry because I don’t have that many years left. And I would like to do the things I want to do. At the moment, I’m leaning toward being cautious but not being completely a prisoner.”

A big frustration for Griffin is the lack of clear guidance for healthy older adults like her who do not have underlying medical conditions. “All we see are statistics that lump all of us together, the healthy with those that have multiple issues,” she said. “I’m wondering what my odds of getting really sick from this virus are.”

Wilma Jenkins, 82, of South Fulton, GA. Jenkins, who has coped with depression most of her life and describes herself as an introvert, lives alone in a small house just outside Atlanta.

“I confess I’m going to be afraid for a while,” she said.

During the pandemic, her three adult children and grandchildren have created a new tradition: Zoom meetings every Sunday afternoon. Previously, the entire family got together once a year, at Thanksgiving. “It helps me a lot, and I think it will last because we have so much fun,” Jenkins said.

Before her life ground to a halt, Jenkins regularly gave presentations at senior centers across Atlanta on what it’s like to grow old. “My work is helping little old people like me,” she said, “and when I can get out again, I’ll be reminding them that we have reached a point when we can wear the crown of age and we should be doing that proudly.”

Marian and Ed Hollingsworth, 66 and 72, of La Mesa, CA. Ed has a rare gastrointestinal cancer and is enrolled in a clinical trial of a new drug.

“My vision of the future is somewhat limited, given my age and my prognosis,” he said. “There’s a constant fear and uncertainty. I don’t see that changing anytime soon. We’ll be in the house a lot, cooking a lot, watching a lot of Netflix.”

“I’m looking at least a year or two of taking strong precautions,” said Marian, a patient-safety advocate.

“I always was the person who was active and doing for others. Now I’m the one at home having to ask for help, and it feels so foreign,” she said. Her most immediate heartache: “We don’t know when we’ll see our [four] kids again.”

Richard Chady, 75, of Chapel Hill, NC. Chady, a former journalist and public relations professional, lives in a retirement community and participates in the North Carolina Coalition on Aging.

“This pandemic has given me a greater appreciation of how precious family and friends are,” he said. “I think it will cause older people to examine their lives and their purpose a little more carefully.”

Chady is optimistic about the future. “I’ve been involved in progressive causes for a long time, and I think we have a great opportunity now. With all that’s happened, there’s more acceptance of the idea that we need to do more to improve people’s lives.”

Edward Mosley, 62, of Atlanta. Mosley lives alone in Big Bethel Village, an affordable senior housing community. Disabled by serious heart disease, he relies on Supplemental Security Income and Medicaid. In the past year, he has had multiple hospitalizations.

“The pandemic, it affected me because they canceled my doctors’ appointments, and I was in a bad way,” said Mosley, who had a pacemaker implanted in his chest before COVID-19 emerged. “But I’m doing better now. I can walk with a cane, though not very far.”

The hardest thing for Mosley is not being able to mingle with other people “because you don’t know where they’ve been or who they’ve been with. You feel like you’re in solitary confinement.”

Vicki Ellner, 68, of Glenwood Landing, NY. Ellner ran [the] Senior Umbrella Network of Brooklyn for 20 years. Today she works as a consultant for an elder care attorney on Long Island.

Before the coronavirus upended life in and around New York City, Ellner and the attorney were planning to launch an initiative aimed at older women. Now, they’ve broadened it to include older men and address issues raised during the pandemic. The theme: “You’re not done yet.”

Ellner explains it this way: “Maybe you were on a path and had a vision of your life in mind. Then all of a sudden you have these challenges. Maybe you lost your job, or maybe things have happened in your family. What we want to help people understand is you’re not done yet. You still have the ability to redirect your life.”

In her personal life, Ellner, who lives with a “significant other,” is determined to keep fear at bay. “We tell ourselves we’re doing everything we can to stay vital and get through this. We try to turn that into a positive.”

Harry Hutson, 72, of Baltimore. Hutson, an organizational consultant and executive coach, is married and has five grown children. He believes “an enormous change in lifestyle” is occurring because of the pandemic.

“We’re all more careful, but we’re also more connected,” he said. “Older friends are coming out of the woodwork. Everyone is Zooming and making calls. People are more open and vulnerable and willing to share than before. We’re all trying to make meaning of this new world.”

“We’re all having a traumatic experience—an experience of collective trauma,” Hutson said. As the future unfolds, “the main thing is self-care and compassion. That’s the way forward for all of us.”

Annis Pratt, 83, of Birmingham, MI. A retired English professor, novelist and environmental activist, Pratt lives alone in a home in suburban Detroit.

“What I’m looking forward to is getting back to interacting with real people. Much of my human contact now is on Zoom, which I consider about 75% of a personal encounter,” she said. “But every day, I make myself go out and talk to someone—like taking a vitamin pill.”

Pratt now has a “do not put me on a ventilator” order in her front hallway, along with a “do not resuscitate” order. “I know it’s very likely that if I get to the point where I have to go to the hospital, I’ll probably die,” she said. “Of course, I’m going to die anyway: I’m 83. But somehow, this pandemic has brought it all home.”

Going forward, Pratt sees two possibilities. “Our moral imaginations will have grown because of what we’ve all gone through, and we will do better. Or nothing will have changed.”

Most of all, she said, “I would like to get my wonderful, wonderful life back.”

The Doctor Is In (Virtually)

Older adults are testing telemedicine’s advantages, drawbacks
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As a retired registered nurse, Donna Bening, 81, has known for decades that telemedicine was coming. Her expectations have been realized this year.

Bening had two virtual visits via videoconference: first with her primary care physician for a routine checkup, and later with her rheumatologist for a follow-up to track the progress of her rheumatoid arthritis. Bening loved the convenience. Her primary care physician, Bening noticed, checked on her from home, casually dressed, sans the usual white coat.

“Neither of us had to get dressed for the appointment,” Bening said.

Millions of older Americans tried telemedicine for the first time in 2020. Due to the pandemic, medical providers quickly pivoted to virtual visits to minimize potential exposure to COVID-19 for vulnerable older patients, and Medicare expanded its coverage to reimburse for telemedicine visits, which were previously not covered.

“The pandemic took something that was ready to launch in some form and accelerated the adoption of the new technology,” said Joshua Septimus, MD, a primary and internal medicine physician at Houston Methodist Hospital who sees many older adult patients. “I think it will have a lasting impact.”

Many experts believe telemedicine will continue to play a bigger role in medical care for older adults after the pandemic, especially if Medicare maintains its coverage. But while telemedicine offers many advantages to older adults, some worry an overzealous push for widespread adoption could leave some patients behind or push them toward virtual visits even when they really need to be seen in person.

“I worry that people are being blinded by the efficiencies [telemedicine] creates to the limitations,” Septimus said.

Advantages of Virtual Visits

Telemedicine is the use of communications technology to deliver health care to patients at a distance. Virtual visits typically involve video and audio communication, via a laptop or desktop computer, tablet (such as an iPad) or smartphone, but may also include medical visits conducted by telephone. Some expand the definition of telemedicine to include written communication between patients and doctors via email or an online portal.

Early studies indicate that patients are responding positively to virtual interactions.
For many older adults, the biggest and most obvious benefit of telemedicine is the ability to consult a doctor or other medical professional without leaving home.

“Traveling to a clinic or doctor’s office can be an exhausting task for older adults,” said Jessica Voit, MD, an assistant professor in the Department of Internal Medicine at UT Southwestern Medical Center in Dallas who specializes in geriatrics. “Some patients need a family member to take off work to bring them in.”

Eulaine Hall, 87, of Dallas likes that advantage. When her annual checkup took place over the telephone a few months ago, she didn’t need to arrange transportation to the doctor’s office via the city’s transit service for seniors. Hall, who has macular degeneration, can no longer drive.

“Avoiding the trip was major,” she said. “And I felt like the doctor spent more time with me and asked really detailed questions.”

Other advantages: doctors can conduct visits from wherever they are, saving time and money. With the patient’s permission, a third party—another medical specialist or a family member—can easily be pulled into a virtual visit.

“You could have multiple physicians in a consultation with the patient at once, instead of having the patient make multiple visits to multiple doctors,” said L. Arick Forrest, MD, vice dean of clinical affairs at the Ohio State University College of Medicine. “Telemedicine offers the possibility of a more patient-centric approach.”

Telemedicine makes it easier for patients and doctors to have frequent, brief check-ins.

Another advantage: doctors can glean a better sense of a patient’s living situation through a video visit.

“I enjoy seeing patients in their homes,” said Voit. “I get insight into their daily lives. I meet their pets. I might notice things like how it’s a challenge for a patient to stand up from a soft couch, or a throw rug on the floor that might cause a fall.”

Before the pandemic, all visits were conducted in person at Voit’s clinic. Once the pandemic hit, the clinic quickly moved most appointments to videoconference or telephone. Now, it’s a hybrid—the clinic provides some appointments in person when needed and others via telemedicine. Nurses triage appointment scheduling to determine which visits need to take place in person and which can easily and safely be conducted virtually.

“Telemedicine works well for a follow-up visit—for example, if we’re trying a new medication and need to see how the patient is doing with it,” Voit said. “But if I need to listen to the patient’s heart and lungs, or it’s a complex case, I need to see the patient in person.”

Another advantage for older adults: telemedicine makes it easier for patients and doctors to have frequent, brief check-ins.

“As you get older, you get more chronic conditions, and managing those via telemedicine, rather than deferring follow-up until your next doctor visit, is a big advantage,” said Forrest. “With telemedicine, there are more ways to be in constant connection.”

Forrest added that patients can often monitor their vital signs from home, thanks to new, consumer-oriented gadgets, such heart rate monitors, blood pressure cuffs, blood glucose monitoring, or digital pulse oximeters to measure blood oxygen levels. However, insurance coverage for these devices varies.

Technological Challenges

When Rosie Kroft, 80, called to schedule a doctor’s appointment last May, the scheduler told her she’d need to see the doctor via videoconference. Kroft’s cell phone doesn’t have video capabilities, so she enlisted her son to come to her house with his smartphone for the appointment.

“I was pleasantly surprised by how well the visit went, but it would’ve been easier for me to just go to the clinic,” she said.

While many older adults are tech savvy—and many more have become adept with FaceTime, Zoom or other video platforms during the pandemic, to stay in touch with family—some lack the skills or the devices needed to connect with telemedicine. Forrest notes that about 40 percent of patients over 65 in his clinic chose to conduct their virtual visits via telephone, rather than video—about twice as many compared to those patients under 30.

While it was a necessity during the pandemic, “When it’s done by phone, it’s just not as effective,” he said.

In-person visits will always be important. Doctors often pick up subtle physical or behavioral cues that might not come across via telemedicine.

Technology is a barrier for telemedicine for a significant number of older adults in the United States, according to a University of California, San Francisco study.

“Video visits require patients to have the knowledge to get online, operate and troubleshoot audiovisual equipment, and communicate with the cues available in person,” the study reported. “Many older adults may be unable to do this because of disabilities or inexperience with technology. An equitable health system should recognize that for some … in-person visits are already difficult, and telemedicine may be impossible.”

The study estimated that, in 2018, 13 million older adults in the United States were not ready for video visits, mostly due to lack of experience with technology or not owning the right devices.

“Telecommunication devices should be covered as a medical necessity, especially given the correlation between poverty and telemedicine unreadiness,” the study recommended.

The study also noted that older patients are more likely than younger patients to have hearing or vision loss or dementia, which can make telemedicine virtually impossible, unless someone is available to assist with the technology.

Permanent Change or Emergency Stopgap?

Many medical visits that initially took place via telephone or videoconference during the pandemic are now returning to in-person appointments, as clinics put safety protocols in place. That’s how it should be, doctors say.

“One concern of mine is that a lot of virtual care is being done [during the pandemic] for respiratory infections, where the patients really should be examined,” said Septimus. “The value of examining someone’s lymph nodes, throat or chest, that’s something you can’t replicate with technology.”

Going forward, the challenge will be striking the right balance—using telemedicine where appropriate, but making sure patients are seen in person when necessary. And determining whether telemedicine will work for a specific visit isn’t always an easy call. It depends on the situation and may vary from one patient to another. For example, a dermatologist might be able to effectively follow up via video with an established patient with a confirmed diagnosis—such as acne or an eczema flare-up—but a suspicious mole or other skin lesion must be examined in person.

“It’s really up to the practitioner to decide who needs an in-person visit,” said Carmel Dyer, MD, geriatrician with UT Physicians/McGovern Medical School at UTHealth in Houston. “We don’t want a patient who needs to be seen forced into telemedicine. On the other hand, we don’t want to drag them down here to the clinic if it’s not necessary.”

Some experts worry that, given the lower cost of telemedicine visits, insurers may eventually push patients to use this route more and more often, even when they really need to be seen by a physician. Physical examinations and personal interactions will always be important for good medical care. Physicians often pick up on subtle physical or behavioral cues that might not come across via video.

“Telemedicine is not a substitute for an in-person visit,” said Forrest. “It’s a complement.”

Geriatrician Carmel Dyer, MD, suggests that patients ask a family member or friend to join them for virtual visits, to be a second set of ears.

Septimus recalled a patient who seemed nervous and fidgety during an exam; when confronted, the patient confessed that he had a drug addiction.

“I never would have noticed that, had I not been with him in person,” he said.

To help make a virtual visit more thorough and successful, Dyer advises patients to prepare just as carefully as they would for an in-person appointment.

Helpful preparation may include:

  • Sitting in a quiet, well-lit location, with the TV off and as few distractions as possible
  • Checking vital signs (blood pressure, temperature, oxygen levels, heart rate and weight) before the visit begins
  • Writing out a list of questions for the doctor
  • Having an up-to-date list of medications
  • Wearing hearing aids or glasses, when applicable

Dyer also suggests that a patient could ask a family member or friend to join the visit to be a second set of ears, or to hold the video device if a doctor needs to see the patient’s gait or a hard-to-reach spot on the body.

Before ending the visit, Dyer advises patients to repeat the doctor’s instructions aloud, to confirm they’re understanding them correctly, and to make sure they are clear on what next steps to follow.

Even in these uncertain times, Dyer recommends that patients see a physician in person at least once a year, and more often if they have a condition that requires it. She also thinks first visits should take place in person.

“Establishing a rapport with a new patient is a bit more challenging via FaceTime,” she said. “In person, you can look the patient in the eye.”

Older People Are Having Second Thoughts about Where to Live

From aging in place to assisted living, housing choices look different since the pandemic
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In this piece written for Kaiser Health News (KHN), journalist Judith Graham investigates the dilemma older people and their families face as the pandemic calls many housing solutions into question. KHN posted her story on Sept. 18, 2020, and it also ran on CNN. Funding from the Silver Century Foundation helps KHN develop articles (like this one) on longevity and related health and social issues.

Where do we want to live in the years ahead?

Older adults are asking this question anew in light of the ongoing toll of the coronavirus pandemic—disrupted lives, social isolation, mounting deaths. Many are changing their minds.

Some people who planned to move to senior housing are now choosing to live independently rather than communally. Others wonder whether transferring to a setting where they can get more assistance might be the right call.

These decisions, hard enough during ordinary times, are now fraught with uncertainty as the economy falters and COVID-19 deaths climb, including tens of thousands in nursing homes and assisted living centers.

Teresa Ignacio Gonzalvo and her husband, Jaime, both 68, chose to build a house rather than move into a continuing care retirement community when they relocate from Virginia Beach, VA, to Indianapolis, IN, later this year to be closer to their daughters.

Having heard about lockdowns around the country because of the coronavirus, Gonzalvo said, “We’ve realized we’re not ready to lose our independence.”

Alissa Ballot, 64, is planning to leave her 750-square-foot apartment in downtown Chicago and put down roots in a multigenerational cohousing community where neighbors typically share dining and recreation areas and often help one another.

“What I’ve learned during this pandemic is that personal relationships matter most to me, not place,” she said.

Kim Beckman, 64, and her husband, Mike, were ready to give up being homeowners in Victoria, TX, and join a 55-plus community or rent in an independent living apartment building in northern Texas before COVID-19 hit.

Because of the many COVID-19 deaths in nursing homes and assisted living facilities, many elders are nervous about where to live.

Now, they’re considering buying an even bigger home because “if you’re going to be in the house all the time, you might as well be comfortable,” Beckman said.

“Everyone I know is talking about this,” said Wendl Kornfeld, 71, who lives on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. She has temporarily tabled the prospect of moving into a continuing care retirement community being built in the Bronx.

“My husband and I are going to play it by ear; we want to see how things play out” with the pandemic, she said.

In Kornfeld’s circles, people are more committed than ever to staying in their homes or apartments as long as possible—at least at the moment. Their fear: if they move to a senior living community, they might be more likely to encounter a COVID outbreak.

“All of us have heard about the huge number of deaths in senior facilities,” Kornfeld said. But people who stay in their own homes may have trouble finding affordable help there when needed, she acknowledged.

More than 70,000 residents and staff members in nursing homes and assisted living facilities had died of COVID-19 by mid-August, according to the latest count from KFF, (Kaiser Family Foundation). This is an undercount because less than half of states are reporting data for COVID-19 in assisted living. Nor is data reported for people living independently in senior housing. (KHN is an editorially independent program of KFF.)

Nervousness about senior living has spread as a result, and in July, the National Investment Center for Seniors Housing & Care [NIC] reported the lowest occupancy rates since the research organization started tracking data 14 years ago. Occupancy dropped more in assisted living (a 3.2 percent decline from April through June, compared with January through March) than in independent living (a 2.4 percent decline). The organization doesn’t compile data on nursing homes.

In a separate NIC survey of senior housing executives in August, 74 percent said families had voiced concerns about moving in as COVID cases spiked in many parts of the country.

Overcoming Possible Isolation

The potential for social isolation is especially worrisome, as facilities retain restrictions on family visits and on group dining and activities. (While states have started to allow visits outside at nursing homes and assisted living centers, most facilities don’t yet allow visits inside—a situation that will increase frustration when the weather turns cold.)

Beth Burnham Mace, NIC’s chief economist and director of outreach, emphasized that operators have responded aggressively by instituting new safety and sanitation protocols, moving programming online, helping residents procure groceries and other essential supplies and communicating regularly about COVID-19, both on-site and in the community at large, much more regularly.

Mary Kazlusky, 76, resides in independent living at Heron’s Key, a continuing care retirement community in Gig Harbor, Washington, which is doing all this and more with a sister facility, Emerald Heights in Redmond, WA. 

“We all feel safe here,” she said. “Even though we’re strongly advised not to go into each other’s apartments, at least we can see each other in the hall and down in the lobby and down on the decks outside. As far as isolation, you’re isolating here with over 200 people: there’s somebody always around.”

One staff member at Heron’s Key tested positive for COVID-19 in August but has recovered. Twenty residents and staff members tested positive at Emerald Heights. Two residents and one staff member died.

Some families find that, since the pandemic, older relatives have trouble managing on their own. 

Colin Milner, chief executive officer of the International Council on Active Aging, stresses that some communities are doing a better job than others. His organization recently published a report on the future of senior living in light of the pandemic.

It calls on operators to institute a host of changes, including establishing safe visiting areas for families both inside and outside; providing high-speed internet services throughout communities; and ensuring adequate supplies of masks and other forms of personal protective equipment for residents and staff, among other recommendations.

Some families now wish they’d arranged for older relatives to receive care in a more structured environment before the pandemic started. They’re finding that older relatives living independently, especially those who are frail or have mild cognitive impairments, are having difficulty managing on their own.

“I’m hearing from a lot of people—mostly older daughters—that we waited too long to move Mom or Dad, we had our head in the sand, can you help us find a place for them,” said Allie Mazza, who owns Brandywine Concierge Senior Services in Kennett Square, PA. 

While many operators instituted move-in moratoriums early in the pandemic, most now allow new residents as long as they test negative for COVID-19. Quarantines of up to two weeks are also required before people can circulate in the community.

Many older adults, however, simply don’t have the financial means to make a move. More than half of middle-income seniors—nearly 8 million older adults—can’t afford independent living or assisted living communities, according to a study published last year. And more than 7 million seniors are poor, according to the federal Supplemental Poverty Measure, which includes out-of-pocket medical expenses and other drains on cash reserves.

Questions to Ask

For those able to consider senior housing, experts suggest you ask several questions:

  • How is the facility communicating with residents and families? Has it had a COVID outbreak? Is it disclosing COVID cases and deaths? Is it sharing the latest guidance from federal, state and local public health authorities?
  • What protocols have been instituted to ensure safety? “I’d want to know: Do they have a plan in place for disasters—not just the pandemic but also floods, fires, hurricanes, blizzards?” Milner said. “And beyond a plan, do they have supplies in place?”
  • How does the community engage residents? Is online programming—exercise classes, lectures, interest group meetings—available? Are one-on-one interactions with staffers possible? Are staffers arranging online interactions via FaceTime or Zoom with family? Are family visits allowed? “Social engagement and stimulation are more important than ever,” said David Schless, president of the American Seniors Housing Association.
  • What’s the company’s financial status and occupancy rate? “Properties with occupancy rates of 90 percent or higher are going to be able to withstand the pressures of COVID-19 significantly more than properties with occupancy below 80 percent, in my opinion,” said Mace of the National Investment Center for Seniors Housing & Care. Higher occupancy means more revenues, which allows institutions to better afford extra expenses associated with the pandemic.

“Transparency is very important,” Schless said.

 

 

Bob Blancato: Fighting Elder Abuse through Politics

He worked to get the Elder Justice Act passed. Now, he says, it’s long past time to fund it.
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This article is the next in our series on the future of aging: interviews with people who are experts in their fields and are also visionaries. We’re asking them to talk about what they believe will happen in the years ahead to change the experience of aging.

Bob Blancato has educated Congress about elder abuse since the problem came to national light about four decades ago. Ultimately, beginning in 2003, he led the seven-year fight to get the Elder Justice Act passed. Yet it remains unfunded. Blancato believes the act could help prevent the scams and neglect that cause pain for so many older adults—and he intends to see this fight through.

In 1981, a US Senate committee released the first congressional report on a problem that was gradually coming to light—one that was “shameful” and “alien to the American spirit.” It was being called elder abuse. 

The report estimated that 4 percent of older Americans were neglected or were abused physically, sexually, financially or psychologically. 

Today, experts believe the number is actually closer to 10 percent. That’s about five million people 65 and older. By 2060, as America’s population ages, it could be closer to ten million. 

Bob Blancato is working to prevent that.

His goal: getting the Elder Justice Act funded. It was passed in 2010 to pay for prevention, education and prosecution programs across the country, but it’s never been fully funded. 

Research suggests that older people who are abused are more likely to develop depression, to be admitted to a hospital and even to die. Financial abuse alone costs older people $3 billion to $37 billion a year, according to the National Council on Aging.

Blancato believes the act could prevent a lot of this pain, but getting it funded is going to take a lot of politicking.

Fortunately for his pursuit, he has a venerable career in advocating for older Americans—dating back to a part-time job in 1973.

“When I was a junior at Georgetown University,” he recalls, “I had a professor who said, ‘You can get three credits one of two ways. You can either come hear my boring lectures or get yourself a job on Capitol Hill.’” 

Blancato got himself that job. 

He became a legislative assistant to Rep. Mario Biaggi, who was from Blancato’s home state, New York. The following year, Biaggi joined the newly created House Select Committee on Aging. Blancato ended up becoming staff director of the subcommittee that released that first report in 1981.

“It was an assignment that became a commitment,” he says. “If my boss had been put on another committee, I would have been assigned to work on that.” 

The commitment became a passion, and today Blancato is still fighting to improve the lives of older people. 

Becoming an Advocate

A few years after Blancato joined Biaggi’s staff, Florida congressman Claude Pepper, then in his 70s, became the Committee on Aging’s chairman. 

“He trained a bunch of us, who were in our 20s at the time, to do advocacy,” Blancato says. “We used to call ourselves the greatest inside lobbying group that Congress ever had, because we were working as staffers, but we were doing, in effect, lobbying for improved legislation.”

In 1988, Blancato became the first vice president of the new National Committee for the Prevention of Elder Abuse. Seven years later, President Bill Clinton appointed him executive director of the 1995 White House Conference on Aging. 

Then, in 2003, Sen. John Breaux of Louisiana introduced the Elder Justice Act in the Senate. “Senator Breaux called me and said, ‘Now Bob, we’re serious about this bill, and we need a dedicated coalition that will commit itself to try to get this bill passed. Since we all know you, we want you to run it,’” Blancato recalls. The group was to be called the Elder Justice Coalition. 

In 2010, after seven years of coalition advocacy and congressional stalls, the Elder Justice Act passed as part of the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act. It was a momentous win. But disappointment was in store.

So far, the Elder Justice Act has received just 8 percent of the funding Congress approved. 

The act authorized $777 million to be spent over four years on various state and local programs. It could be renewed every year thereafter, as long as Congress appropriated money to it. The catch was, funding wasn’t mandated, even for the first four years. 

To date, a total of $66 million has been appropriated to the Elder Justice Act—8 percent of what Congress approved. 

So Blancato’s fight continues—now focused on funding the act. He is still the national coordinator for the Elder Justice Coalition. “We had five founding members, and now we have well over 3,000 different people who are part of the coalition in one form or another,” he says.

He’s also national coordinator of the Defeat Malnutrition Today coalition, executive director of the National Association of Nutrition and Aging Services Programs and president of the strategic consultation firm Matz, Blancato and Associates. 

The Silver Century Foundation spoke with Blancato about his journey—and why the Elder Justice Act continues to be underfunded.

SCF: Looking back over your career, what are you proudest of?

BB: Seeing the passage of the Elder Justice Act in 2010. The process that led to that was amazing; was frustrating; was inspiring; was the good about politics, the bad about politics. 

It proved the adage that there is no good policy without politics. In the end, both what we did right and what we haven’t done enough of going forward is, you’ve got to make your issues political issues as much as policy issues. If you go back home and you’re a member of Congress or a senator, you want to hear about this issue from people there. When [members of Congress] come back, they say, “What are we doing about this?” One of the jobs that we’re working on doing is improving grassroots advocacy around elder abuse.

[Blancato’s phone rings.]

Now that’s the perfect example of what we try to fight against: robocalls. 

SCF: Are robocalls a major issue you’re working on?

BB: We work on that a lot. In fact, we’ve been working very closely with the Justice Department, with the Federal Communications Commission, with Congress, all about cracking down on these robocalls, particularly the ones that swindle older people out of resources. As you know, it’s a huge problem.

I give credit to this [Trump] administration—not all the time—but I do think that they have understood one dimension of elder abuse that is important, which is that it’s a crime. And that you need to put the resources of your federal agency to work when you’re running into these kind of problems. 

[In 2019], the Justice Department organized a sweep, and they picked up over 200 different swindlers and got them arrested and stopped. They had fleeced older people out of some tremendous amount of money.

SCF: Which brings us to this point: elder abuse is already illegal. Why do we need an act about it?

BB: The act is more about having the resources to help people who are on the front lines of preventing elder abuse to be able to do their job better. The key feature of the Elder Justice Act was to give Adult Protective Services a dedicated funding stream, which they currently don’t have.

They are funded through a Social Services Block Grant. Block grants really mean that the state can decide where they spend the money. Under the Social Services Block Grant, you can spend it on any number of things, including Child Protective Services, home delivered meals, Adult Protective Services. But in 12 states in this country, they don’t spend a nickel on Adult Protective Services. Yet elder abuse occurs in those states.

So the rationale behind this was, let them have their own funding stream, and let us develop a decent data collection system so that we can make the case more effectively. Because right now, and for the last few years in this environment, if you have good data, you have a chance of getting money. If you have no data, then you’re in trouble. 

SCF: Is there something you wish Americans understood about elder abuse that we don’t?

BB: There’s a certain degree of denial still that I run into sometimes. Like when my colleagues who work for the coalition go up to visit Capitol Hill and talk to staff people—many of them very young—they don’t grasp it; they don’t see it. But then you say, “What if it happened to your grandmother? Your parents?” And then all of a sudden, it’s a different conversation. 

So what we always do—advocacy 101, you always have leave-behinds for when you walk out of a congressional office. You bring, in your little packet, a summary of the Elder Justice Act, maybe a couple of fact sheets, and then you bring a news clip from the closest newspaper you can find to that congressional office. And then the headline speaks for itself: it talks about a ring of swindlers [or] the older veteran who got caught up in a sweetheart scam with some young woman moving in with him, and then next thing you know, the guy’s out of $50,000. 

Or the grandkids scandal. Statistically, the average victim of elder abuse is an older woman living alone between the age of 75 and 80. The Census Bureau says that about 47 percent of all women 75 and over in this country now live alone. So you can see where the potential is for problems, right?

This is how I introduce this topic when I go out on the road and I talk to people who may not be that familiar with it. I say, “OK, let’s pretend for a moment that you’re an older woman, and you’ve been home all day. No one’s talked to you, no contact of any kind. The phone rings at 4:00. And you pick it up. And it’s a human voice; it’s contact. But guess what else it is. It’s a scammer, who’s trying to take advantage of your situation of wanting to have contact with somebody.” 

The minute you establish trust with an older person and you violate that trust, that’s elder abuse. It can happen between family members, it can happen with outsiders, it can happen on the telephone, it can happen with somebody driving down the street and they come knock on your door and say, “Look, there’s a big tree limb hanging over the back of your roof, and I’m more than happy to get rid of that for you, if you’ll just give me a check for the parts and stuff. I’ll be back later.” And then they never come back.

But there’s this one in particular that—and even with all the years I’ve worked, I don’t understand how this works—but you’re at home. The phone rings. “Hi, it’s your grandson. I’ve been arrested in Canada. I need $3,000 in bail money right away. Here’s where you send it.” And they make the voice sound like it’s actually your grandchild. It’s amazing! That’s the one I really hope they can bust, because there’s obviously an organized ring that’s doing that.

But the point is, you have to humanize this issue in the best way you can, so that people understand that it does exist. And that’s been a struggle. 

The Child Abuse Prevention and Treatment Act was passed in 1974. It became law. And we’ve now spent $8 or $9 billion helping to combat child abuse, which we should do. We passed a law in 1992 called the Violence Against Women Act to cut down on domestic violence, which we should do. But it took us until 2010 to pass an elder abuse bill—the Elder Justice Act—and we’re still struggling to get the money!

SCF: Why do you think that is?

BB: I’ll give you two reasons. One is, as fate had it, the Elder Justice Act only became law because of a strange process. The Elder Justice Act passed a very key Senate committee on two or three different occasions, but they could never get it over the finish line and get it passed in the full Senate and the full House.

So a wonderful human being, a former senator from Utah named Orrin Hatch, who was one of the authors of the Elder Justice Act, said to me in 2009, “Bob, despite the merits of this bill and all the good things that this bill could do, it’s never going to pass by itself. So you need to figure out what’s a moving vehicle—a bigger bill that’s going to come out of this committee that we can attach the Elder Justice Act to.” And I said, “OK, that’s great advice; we’ll monitor that situation.”

Well that year, the only bill that came out of the finance committee was the Affordable Care Act. And when Obama got elected and the administration found reason to support the bill—as compared to the previous administration, which opposed it—we said, “Well, I guess if this is the only vehicle we have, then let’s do our best to get it included in the final bill.”

That’s where one of the problems was: that bill never got a single Republican vote. And if you weren’t mandatorily funded in that bill, you had to go out year after year to go and get funding from the Appropriations Committee. 

Its placement in that bill hung over us for a long time. But at the same time, we wouldn’t have had a law if there wasn’t a place to put it. 

SCF: And nothing’s changed, right? It’s still part of that bill and you’re still having trouble getting funding?

BB: In a technical sense, yeah. I mean, technically speaking, the Elder Justice Act was a four-year bill, and its authority expired a number of years ago. But as long as you get funded, even at a small level, you have the organic ability to continue. But we don’t want to be in this limbo status forever. That’s why we want to get a new version passed to provide the authority to continue the work of the Elder Justice Act that’s already been started.

Little by little, we are seeing more support come forward. But our strategy going forward will be much more focused on the money side this time. 

SCF: Are you saying that the focus is passing a new version of the bill that is fully funded?

BB: We’re going to be seeking to get the bill that was passed repassed with a couple of changes, and then be more aggressive in the year-to-year funding cycle to get increased appropriation.

SCF: Let’s say, poof! The bill is fully funded. What’s the most important thing you’d like to see done first? Or what’s the biggest thing we’re missing out on by not having it funded?

BB: Well, your cases of elder abuse would drop, for a starting point. 

If you had an adequately funded Adult Protective Services operation—which does a number of things: it initially does investigation when a report comes in about the potential of elder abuse. It will seek to get a remedy for that particular case, whether it’s a prosecution or something else. But it also engages in educational activity to help prevent elder abuse to begin with. 

And then with the ombudsmen: if you have access to the nursing home and you are handling complaints that come in and you’re reporting them, you’re helping to reduce the instance of abuse in nursing homes.

If you can fund what they call forensic centers, so that when an older person goes to an emergency room with a bruise, and they assume it was a fall but it could have been physical abuse, a forensic center will teach you as an emergency room person what the difference is and how to look for it.

And then there’s funding for adequate staffing in nursing homes that was included in the Elder Justice Act. Right now we definitely need to step that up a little bit.

But I’ll tell you, the one good thing that has occurred—that continues to occur and has been done by both the Obama and the Trump administrations—that came out of the Elder Justice Act was the creation of what they call the Elder Justice Coordinating Council.

This is 15 federal agencies—all of whom have some work going on in the space of elder abuse prevention—coordinating their activities so they get maximum value for the dollar. So the Postal Service Inspection System can sit down with the Department of Justice. The Department of Health and Human Services can sit down with the Social Security Administration. And they can all compare notes on what work they’re doing to help prevent elder abuse, but under some direct authority to coordinate that activity.

It’s been great to see. I testified before the first meeting that this group had, in 2012. The cochairs at the time were the secretary of [Health and Human Services] and the attorney general. So they were there briefly to do their thing. And then each other agency introduced themselves and talked a little bit about what they were doing in the space, right? And I’m watching these other agencies—they were writing these notes down like this was the first time they ever heard about this. And I’m like, this is why you exist. This is exactly why you exist. 

Once we can put it in one place, then we’re at least doing something with what we have, to make a difference, to make a dent. So that stays. That continues. It’s very important work. That’s probably one of the more important features of the Elder Justice Act.

SCF: Is there one form of elder abuse that’s most pressing to get a handle on or that bothers you the most?

BB: The thing that bothers me the most is the growing cases of self-neglect. Statistics say basically that it’s in the top three categories of the fastest growing forms of elder abuse. And what bothers me about that is it coincides with the increased focus on isolation and loneliness among older people. 

When you get to the status of being a victim of self-neglect, that means you’ve been abandoned. 

SCF: No one is making sure you’re taking care of yourself.

BB: And there are some victims of self-neglect who were victims of neglect prior to that, where somebody was “taking care of them” but really wasn’t, and then they walked away or whatever and left these people on their own. We really have got to improve our understanding of the issue and how to deal with it, because it’s the saddest of them all, frankly.

The one that’s probably the most prevalent is financial elder abuse. The data suggests that older people lose as much as $3 billion a year [as] victims of financial abuse. But there is activity going on, at the federal level and at the state level, to combat financial abuse and exploitation. It’s tangible. You can put out tips: don’t do this; look out for this; be aware of this. That one’s a little easier. None of them are easy, but this is a little easier than dealing with self-neglect.

SCF: If someone wants to support funding the Elder Justice Act, is there anything they can do?

BB: Write a letter to your senators and your congressperson and ask them what their position is on it. Wait to see what comes back, and then take your follow-up from there. 

The people who are really creative will do things like get letters to the editor published during the holidays, for example, which is a time when everybody starts thinking about elder abuse, because it happens a lot in the holidays.

And then the other thing you can tell them to do is to go to our [website], www.elderjusticecoalition.com, and join us.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

COVID-19 Is Damaging Bereaved Families

The trauma and the grief could last for years
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Losing someone you love is hard enough, but losing them to COVID can compound your grief. Journalist Judith Graham describes what’s happening as the pandemic wears on and where help can be found. Kaiser Health News posted her article on August 12, 2020. The story also ran on CNN. Funding from the Silver Century Foundation helps KHN develop articles (like this one) on longevity and related health and social issues.  

Every day, the nation is reminded of COVID-19’s ongoing impact as new death counts are published. What is not well documented is the toll on family members.

New research suggests the damage is enormous. For every person who dies of COVID-19, nine close family members are affected, researchers estimate, based on complex demographic calculations and data about the coronavirus.

Many survivors will be shaken by the circumstances under which loved ones pass away—rapid declines, sudden deaths and an inability to be there at the end—and worrisome ripple effects may linger for years, researchers warn.

If 190,000 Americans die from COVID complications, . . . some models suggest, 1.7 million Americans will be grieving close family members, according to the study. Most likely to perish are grandparents, followed by parents, siblings, spouses and children.

“There’s a narrative out there that COVID-19 affects mostly older adults,” said Ashton Verdery, a coauthor of the study and a professor of sociology and demography at Pennsylvania State University. “Our results highlight that these are not completely socially isolated people that no one cares about. They are integrally connected with their families, and their deaths will have a broad reach.”

Because of family structures, Black families will lose slightly more close family members than white families, aggravating the pandemic’s disproportionate impact on African American communities. (Verdery’s previous research modeled kinship structures for the US population, dating to 1880 and extending to 2060.)

The potential consequences of these losses are deeply concerning, with many families losing important sources of financial, social and caregiving support. “The vast scale of COVID-19 bereavement has the potential to lower educational achievement among youth, disrupt marriages, and lead to poorer physical and mental health across all age groups,” Verdery and his coauthors observe in their paper.

Not being there in your love one’s time of need, not being able to say goodbye, make prolonged grief and post-traumatic stress more likely. 

Holly Prigerson, co-director of the Center for Research on End-of-Life Care at Weill Cornell Medicine in New York City, sounds a similar alarm, especially about the psychological impact of the pandemic, in a new paper on bereavement.

“Bereaved individuals have become the secondary victims of COVID-19, reporting severe symptoms of traumatic stress, including helplessness, horror, anxiety, sadness, anger, guilt, and regret, all of which magnify their grief,” she and coauthors from Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New York noted.

In a phone conversation, Prigerson predicted that people experiencing bereavement will suffer worse outcomes because of lockdowns and social isolation during the pandemic. She warned that older adults are especially vulnerable.

“Not being there in a loved one’s time of need, not being able to communicate with family members in a natural way, not being able to say goodbye, not participating in normal rituals—all this makes bereavement more difficult and prolonged grief disorder and post-traumatic stress more likely,” she noted.

Organizations that offer bereavement care are seeing this unfold as they expand services to meet escalating needs.

Typically, 5 percent to 10 percent of bereaved family members have a “trauma response,” but that has “increased exponentially—approaching the 40 percent range—because we’re living in a crisis,” said Yelena Zatulovsky, vice president of patient experience at Seasons Hospice & Palliative Care, the nation’s fifth-largest hospice provider.

Since March, Seasons has doubled the number of grief support groups it offers to 29, hosted on virtual platforms, most of them weekly. All are free and open to community members, not just families whose loved ones received care from Seasons. (To find a virtual group in your time zone, call 1-855-812-1136, Season’s 24/7 call center.)

Besides losing family members and friends, people are losing jobs and any sense of normalcy and safety.

“We’re noticing that grief reactions are far more intense and challenging,” Zatulovsky said, noting that requests for individual and family counseling have also risen.

Medicare requires hospices to offer bereavement services to family members for up to 13 months after a client’s death. Many hospices expanded these services to community members before the pandemic, and Edo Banach, president and CEO of the National Hospice and Palliative Care Organization, hopes that trend continues.

“It’s not just the people who die on hospice and their families who need bereavement support at this time; it’s entire communities,” he said. “We have a responsibility to do even more than what we normally do.”

In New York City, the center of the pandemic in its early months, the Jewish Board is training school administrators, teachers, counselors and other clinicians to recognize signs of grief and bereavement and provide assistance. The health and human services organization serves New Yorkers regardless of religious affiliation.

“There is a collective grief experience that we are all experiencing, and we’re seeing the need go through the roof,” said Marilyn Jacob, a senior director who oversees the organization’s bereavement services, which now include two support groups for people who have lost someone to COVID-19.

“There’s so much loss now, on so many different levels, that even very seasoned therapists are saying, ‘I don’t really know how to do this,’” Jacob said. In addition to losing family members, people are losing jobs, friends, routines, social interactions and a sense of normalcy and safety.

For many people, these losses are sudden and unexpected, which can complicate grief, said Patti Anewalt, director of Pathways Center for Grief & Loss in Lancaster, PA, affiliated with the state’s largest not-for-profit hospice. The center recently created a four-week group on sudden loss to address its unique challenges.

Coping with grief, especially when it is complicated by social isolation and trauma, takes time. Support groups can help. 

The day before Julie Cheng’s 88-year-old mother was rushed to the hospital in early July, she had been singing songs with Cheng’s sister over the phone at her Irvine, CA, nursing home. The next morning, a nurse reported that the older woman had a fever and was wheezing badly. At the hospital, COVID-19 was diagnosed and convalescent plasma therapy tried. Within two weeks, after suffering a series of strokes, Cheng’s mother died.

Since then, Cheng has mentally replayed the family’s decision not to take her mother out of the nursing home and to refuse mechanical ventilation at the hospital—something she was sure her mother would not have wanted.

“There have been a lot of ‘what ifs?’ and some anger: someone or something needs to be blamed for what happened,” she said, describing mixed emotions that followed her mother’s death.

But acceptance has sprung from religious conviction. “Mostly, because of our faith in Jesus, we believe that God was ready to take her and she’s in a much better place now.”

Coping with grief, especially when it is complicated by social isolation and trauma, takes time. If you are looking for help, call a local hospice’s bereavement department and ask what kind of services it provides to people in the community. Funeral directors should also have a list of counselors and grief support programs. One option is GriefShare, offered by churches across the country.

Many experts believe the need for these kinds of services will expand exponentially as more family members emerge from pandemic-inspired shock and denial.

“I firmly believe we’re still at the tip of the iceberg, in terms of the help people need, and we won’t understand the full scope of that for another six to nine months,” said Diane Snyder-Cowan, leader of the bereavement professionals steering committee of the National Council of Hospice and Palliative Professionals.

Will Lifelong Learning Change the Way We Age?

It can tune up your skills, open up your life—or even help you reinvent yourself
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Six years ago, Laura Rich signed up for a continuing education class in Chinese art history and archaeology at Stanford University. Her children were grown and she was wrapping up a full-time stint on the local school board. 

“Most of my life, I thought history was boring, but a trip to Shanghai sparked my interest,” said Rich, 58, of Menlo Park, CA. “And I felt like my mind was stagnating a little.” 

The class completely changed her life: she is now an archaeologist. Before the pandemic, she traveled to Europe twice a year for months-long digs in Italy and England. She has continued to educate herself through other classes at Stanford, lectures, conferences and online courses. As she dug deeper into her subject, she discovered she could tackle dense books that would’ve seemed impenetrable before. (“It’s like my brain turned back on,” she said.) Recently, she was elected vice president for outreach and education for the Archaeological Institute of America.   

“If you had told me 10 years ago that I’d be doing archaeology full time, I would’ve fallen over laughing,” she said. “Yet I absolutely love it.” 

Learning as Reinvention 

Rich’s story is dramatic, but one that Ken Dychtwald believes will become more common in the coming years. He lists “more learning” as one of the key ways life will change for older adults in the years ahead, in his new book, What Retirees Want: A Holistic View of Life’s Third Age (2020), which he co-wrote with Robert Morison..

“Lifelong learning may be the most important ingredient in determining the way people age,” said Dychtwald, who is CEO of Age Wave, a company that conducts research on aging populations. “If you’re living in a world that’s moving along very slowly, you go to high school and college, and that education lasts you for life. That world is long gone. In the future, there will be more learning and more of the personal development, fulfilment and untapping of potential that goes with it.” 

Many people associate “lifelong learning” with enrichment classes that cater to the interests of retired people—such as a course in photography or gardening. But today, older adults can choose from a rapidly expanding menu of educational options that allow them to pursue hobbies, grow professionally or even embark on new careers.  

For example, the Bernard Osher Foundation’s Lifelong Learning Institutes, launched in 2002, support 124 programs, geared primarily to older adults, on university and college campuses across the country.

The Road Scholar program, formerly Elderhostel, offers thousands of “learning adventures” in 150 countries (before the current travel restrictions imposed by the pandemic). 

Some universities are adding innovative, full-time, residential programs for older adults. 

Massive open online courses (MOOCs) allow students of any age to learn about almost anything, on their own timelines, often for free. Emerging in popularity in 2012, MOOCs are offered by providers like Coursera, Khan Academy, edX and FutureLearn.  

While college campuses have offered continuing education classes for decades, Dychtwald expects that will explode after the pandemic. 

“Older learners enjoy being in classrooms with people of all ages,” he said. “After we get this virus in the rearview, I think you will see a surge in campuses—at churches, community centers, senior centers, summer camps, museums—that become learning environments for people in later years.” 

Some universities are even adding innovative, full-time, residential programs for older adults who are starting second careers or looking to move from the profit to the nonprofit world, according to Mark Silverman, CEO of Amava.com, an online platform connecting older adults to online learning, jobs and volunteer opportunities. 

He cites the Stanford Distinguished Careers Institute as an example. The Institute brings midlife students to Stanford to attend classes with undergraduate and graduate students and to participate in campus life, with the goal of enabling individuals in midlife to renew their purpose, build a new community and enhance their physical, emotional and spiritual health. 

Silverman believes such programs are the natural outgrowth of people living longer.

“Many people want to continue to work after they reach retirement age, and money is often not the main motivator,” he said. “Now they have this opportunity to rethink everything. They don’t need to limit their opportunities based only on the experiences they had in the past. You can still develop new skills at this age.”

Learning for Employability 

For those still working, lifelong learning is a way to stay relevant. Judy Brown, 60, of Dallas, TX, worked in marketing jobs for most of her career. But when she took a new job several years ago, she needed to upgrade her skills to help market the company’s products online. With help from a colleague, and the online platform Lynda.com, she taught herself digital skills like search engine optimization. 

“I was in a job I didn’t know how to do; Lynda.com saved my life,” said Brown, who later parlayed her new skills into another, higher-paying job. 

Working older adults like Brown have more options now, because education has become more consumer-friendly and modularized in recent years, said Bradley Staats, associate professor of operations at the University of North Carolina’s Kenan-Flagler Business School and author of Never Stop Learning: Stay Relevant, Reinvent Yourself, and Thrive (2018).  

While a young person may opt for a degree program’s broad education and credentialing, someone in midlife likely needs training in specific skills. Higher education institutions are serving the latter group with more specialized online courses and certificate programs. 

“Universities are breaking up that education into pieces,” Staats said. “If you don’t want to spend two years full time, earning an MBA, maybe you take a one-year certificate program in data analytics online instead.” 

Bethany Ross, public services librarian at the Plano Public Library in Plano, TX, sees older adults profiting from those options. 

Expect COVID-19 to further shake up the online learning space and make it more relevant.

“I helped one older woman who came into the library at night to learn Excel, because she had started a new job and her skills were rusty,” she said. “Another taught herself Canva [a website design platform] to launch a small business selling socks on eBay.”  

Ross, 50, turned to Lynda.com to learn PhotoShop and refine her skills in Excel—two software platforms she uses for her job that weren’t taught in her master’s degree program in library science. 

Ross thinks COVID-19 is spurring older adults to become more adept with online platforms. When the pandemic closed the library’s buildings, the staff moved a book club, which normally met in person, to Zoom. 

“We worried that our older members wouldn’t be able to join us online, but most of them found a way to join us,” she said.   

Expect COVID-19 to further shake up the online learning space and make it more relevant, added Fred DiUlus, 78, founder of Global Academy, which helps universities launch online programs.  

“When Harvard said that existing students would be taught the same courses, all online, this fall, without reducing the cost of tuition, that dispelled some of the prejudice against online learning,” he said. 

Joys of Learning

Paul Irving, a former lawyer in Santa Monica, CA, who chairs the Milken Institute Center for the Future of Aging, thinks everyone should return to school at some point later in life. 

“There’s something magic about being on campus,” he said. “It starts with feeding intellectual curiosity, challenging oneself, and realizing the joy of learning. And returning to school can be a huge confidence builder—confidence both in what you know and in how much you learn.” 

Lifelong learning addresses many challenges related to an aging population. Researchers point to a “sense of purpose” as a key ingredient of successful aging and even longevity. One study by Age Wave and Edward Jones identified “purpose” as one of four pillars of successful retirement (along with health, finances and social connections). 

Purpose, the study said, includes giving back to the community, enjoying time with family, as well as “trying new things, developing new abilities and meeting personal goals—intellectual, artistic, athletic.” In other words, learning. In that same study, 95 percent of retirees polled agreed that “It’s important to keep learning and growing at every age.”  

More than 50 colleges and universities around the world are collaborating as they look for ways to become more welcoming to older adults.

Just as physical exercise keeps the body functioning and healthy, experts believe that learning exercises the brain in a way that helps keep it healthy.  One study showed that acquiring a complex new skill—like digital photography or quilting—led to improvement in memory; another suggested that learning a second language, even later in life, may slow age-related cognitive decline.

“Engaging in learning helps protect our brains from atrophy, and when we’re learning, we are more likely to express greater happiness and greater satisfaction overall, as a result of staying engaged in that way,” said Staats. 

Another benefit of learning: social connections. Strong social connections have been linked with physical and mental health for older adults. Taking a class can boost social skills and self-confidence. 

“I have a whole new set of friends who I would not necessarily have connected with before,” said Laura Rich, the archaeologist. “I’ve lived in this town for decades and I knew many people, but this new interest has brought me together with people from different worlds and lifestyles that I would never have met without pursuing something new and opening myself up to something new.” 

Age Diversity on Campus

These new options in learning are opening new opportunities for reinvention, continuing participation in the workforce and social engagement. But some older adults face obstacles. 

Many, especially those 75 and older, aren’t tech savvy and don’t have access to smartphones, computers or Wi-Fi. Those with limited mobility can’t always attend in-person classes. And older adults often don’t feel comfortable in traditional classes at universities, where the student populations generally remain age segregated. 

Some universities are looking to change that, by pursuing ways to include older people as part of their commitments to welcoming people of all backgrounds. Bringing more older adults to campus could also help keep classrooms filled and tuition dollars flowing. 

More than 50 colleges and universities around the world have joined Age-Friendly University, a global network founded in 2012 at Dublin City University to collaborate on ways to become more welcoming to older adults. Washington University in St. Louis, MO, joined the network in 2018, with a stated vision that “Later life will be viewed as a time of active engagement, learning, and purpose, as opposed to current perceptions of stepping back and diminishing relevance.” While still in its infancy, the Washington University program aims to add new courses, certificate programs, workshops and events tailored to the needs and interests of older adult learners. 

Bringing older adults on campus, too, could enable institutions of higher learning to participate more actively in shaping a society that includes a growing segment of older adults. Efforts to address issues related to population aging will be inhibited if students, classrooms and research training remain age-segregated, according to a study published in the Gerontologist, “Making the Case for Age Diversity on Campus.” 

Irving, of the Milken Institute, says that’s key. Encouraging more learning among adults won’t just help individuals age successfully; it will enable societies with large, aging populations to thrive. 

“Wise and knowledgeable populations will distinguish countries and societies in the decades to come,” he predicts. “Those countries that figure out ways to reeducate, reskill and continue to challenge and engage their older populations are the countries that will succeed.” 

Should You Change Your Living Will Because of the Pandemic?

Some older people are doing that—and ruling out intubation
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What kind of hospital care would you want if you had COVID-19 and were desperately ill? In this article, journalist Judith Graham pulls together the facts about treatments, especially with ventilators, along with expert advice on what to do and how to decide. Her article was posted on the KHN website on May 12, 2020, and also ran on the Washington Post.

DENVER ― Last month, Minna Buck revised a document specifying her wishes should she become critically ill.

“No intubation,” she wrote in large letters on the form, making sure to include the date and her initials.

Buck, 91, had been following the news about COVID-19. She knew her chances of surviving a serious bout of the illness were slim. And she wanted to make sure she wouldn’t be put on a ventilator under any circumstances.

“I don’t want to put everybody through the anguish,” said Buck, who lives in a continuing care retirement community in Denver.

For older adults contemplating what might happen to them during this pandemic, ventilators are a fraught symbol, representing a terrifying lack of personal control as well as the fearsome power of technology.

Used for people with respiratory failure, a signature consequence of severe COVID-19, these machines pump oxygen into a patient’s body while he or she lies in bed, typically sedated, with a breathing tube snaked down the windpipe (known as “intubation”).

For some seniors, this is their greatest fear: being hooked to a machine, helpless, with the end of life looming. For others, there is hope that the machine might pull them back from the brink, giving them another shot at life.

“I’m a very vital person: I’m very active and busy,” said Cecile Cohan, 85, who has no diagnosed medical conditions and lives independently in a house in Denver. If she became critically ill with COVID-19 but had the chance of recovering and being active again, she said, “yes, I would try a ventilator.”

Out of all those who become infected with COVID-19, frail older adults are the least likely to survive treatment with a ventilator.

What’s known about people’s chances?

Although several reports have come out of China, Italy and, most recently, the area around New York City, “the data is really scanty,” said Carolyn Calfee, a professor of anesthesia at the University of California-San Francisco [UCSF].

Initial reports suggested that the survival rate for patients on respirators ranged from 14 percent (Wuhan, China) to 34 percent (early data from the United Kingdom). A report from the New York City Area appeared more discouraging, with survival listed at only 11.9 percent.

But the New York data incorporated only patients who died or were discharged from hospitals—a minority of a larger sample. Most ventilator patients were still in the hospital, receiving treatment, making it impossible for researchers to draw reliable conclusions.

Calfee worries that data from these early studies may not apply to US patients treated in hospitals with considerable resources.

“The information we have is largely from settings with tremendous resource gaps and from hospitals that are overwhelmed, where patients may not be treated with optimal ventilator support,” she said. “I would be very worried if people used that data to make decisions about whether they wanted mechanical ventilation.”

Still, a sobering reality emerges from studies published to date: older adults, especially those with underlying medical conditions such as heart, kidney or lung disease, are least likely to survive critical illness caused by the coronavirus or treatment with a ventilator.

“Their prognosis is not great,” said Douglas White, MD, a professor of critical care medicine at the University of Pittsburgh. He cautioned, however, that frail older adults shouldn’t be lumped together with healthy, robust older adults, whose prospects may be somewhat better.

The choice isn’t as black-and-white as go on a ventilator or die.

Like other clinicians, White has observed that older COVID patients are spending considerably longer on ventilators—two weeks or more—than is the case with other critical illnesses. If they survive, they’re likely to be extremely weak, deconditioned, suffering from delirium and in need of months of ongoing care and physical rehabilitation.

“It’s a very long, uphill battle to recovery,” and many older patients may never regain full functioning, said Negin Hajizadeh, MD, an associate professor of critical care medicine at the School of Medicine at Hofstra/Northwell on New York’s Long Island. “My concern is, who’s going to take care of these patients after a prolonged ventilator course—and where?”

In St. Paul, MN, Joyce Edwards, 61, who is unmarried and lives on her own, has been wondering the same thing.

In late April, Edwards revised her advance directive to specify that “for COVID-19, I do not want to be placed on a ventilator.” Previously, she had indicated that she was willing to try a ventilator for a few days but wanted it withdrawn if the treatment was needed for a longer period.

“I have to think about what the quality of my life is going to be,” Edwards said. “Could I live independently and take care of myself—the things I value the most? There’s no spouse to take care of me or adult children. Who would step into the breach and look after me while I’m in recovery?”

People who’ve said “give a ventilator a try but discontinue it if improvement isn’t occurring” need to realize that they almost surely won’t have time to interact with loved ones if treatment is withdrawn, said Christopher Cox, MD, an associate professor of medicine at Duke University.

“You may not be able to live for more than a few minutes,” he noted.

But the choice isn’t as black-and-white as go on a ventilator or die.

“We can give you high-flow oxygen and antibiotics,” Cox said. “You can use BiPAP or CPAP machines [which also deliver oxygen] and see how those work. And if things go poorly, we’re excellent at keeping you comfortable and trying to make it possible for you to interact with family and friends instead of being knocked out in a coma.”

People are thinking about what could happen to them and they want to talk about it. It’s opened up a lot of conversations.
— Rebecca Sudore, MD

Heather McCrone of Bellevue, WA, realized she’d had an “all-or-nothing” view of ventilation when her 70-year-old husband developed sepsis—a systemic infection—last year after problems related to foot surgery.

Over nine hours, McCrone sat in the intensive care unit as her husband was stabilized on a ventilator by nurses and respiratory therapists. “They were absolutely fantastic,” McCrone said. After a four-day stay in the hospital, her husband returned home.

“Before that experience, my feeling about ventilators was, ‘You’re a goner and there’s no coming back,’” McCrone said. “Now, I know that’s not necessarily the case.”

She and her husband both have advance directives stating that they want “lifesaving measures taken unless we’re in a vegetative state with no possibility of recovery.” McCrone said they still need to discuss their wishes with their daughters, including their preference for getting treatment with a ventilator.

These discussions are more important than ever―and perhaps easier than in the past, experts said.

“People are thinking about what could happen to them and they want to talk about it,” said Rebecca Sudore, MD, a professor of medicine at the UCSF. “It’s opened up a lot of conversations.”

Rather than focusing on whether to be treated with a ventilator, she advises older adults to discuss what’s most important to them—independence? time with family? walking? living as long as possible?—and what they consider a good quality of life. This will provide essential context for decisions about ventilation.

“Some people may say, my life is always worth living no matter what type of serious illness or disability I have,” she said. “On the other end of the spectrum, some people may feel there are health situations or experiences that would be so hard that life would not be worth living.”

Sudore helped create Prepare for Your Care, a website and a set of tools to guide people through these kinds of conversations. Recently it was updated to include a section on COVID-19, as have sites sponsored by Compassion & Choices and The Conversation Project. And the Colorado Program for Patient Centered Decisions has published a decision aid for COVID patients considering life support, also available in Spanish.

Some older adults have another worry: What if there aren’t enough ventilators for all the COVID patients who need them?

In that situation, “I would like to say ‘no’ because other people need that intervention more than I do and would benefit, in all probability, more than I would,” said Larry Churchill, 74, an emeritus professor of medical ethics at Vanderbilt.

“In a non-scarcity situation, I’m not sure what I’d do. I’m in pretty good health, but people my age don’t survive as well from any major problem,” Churchill said. “Most of us don’t want a long, lingering death in a custodial facility where the chances of recovery are small and the quality of life may be one we’re not willing to tolerate.”

Why Black Aging Matters Too

COVID-19’s exceptional toll on older African Americans is largely unnoticed
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In this important and moving article, Kaiser Health News journalist Judith Graham recounts the myriad reasons why older Blacks are especially vulnerable to the coronavirus and describes their situation. This story also ran on CNN. Posted on the KHN website on September 3, 2020.

Old. Chronically ill. Black.

People who fit this description are more likely to die from COVID-19 than any other group in the country.

They are perishing quietly, out of sight, in homes and apartment buildings, senior housing complexes, nursing homes and hospitals, disproportionately poor, frail and ill, after enduring a lifetime of racism and its attendant adverse health effects. 

Yet older Black Americans have received little attention as protesters proclaim that Black Lives Matter and experts churn out studies about the coronavirus.

“People are talking about the race disparity in COVID deaths, they’re talking about the age disparity, but they’re not talking about how race and age disparities interact: they’re not talking about older Black adults,” said Robert Joseph Taylor, director of the Program for Research on Black Americans at the University of Michigan’s Institute for Social Research.

A KHN analysis of data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention underscores the extent of their vulnerability. It found that African Americans ages 65 to 74 died of COVID-19 five times as often as whites. In the 75-to-84 group, the death rate for Blacks was three and a half times greater. Among those 85 and older, Blacks died twice as often. In all three age groups, death rates for Hispanics were higher than for whites but lower than for Blacks.

(The gap between Blacks and whites narrows over time because advanced age, itself, becomes an increasingly important, shared risk. Altogether, 80 percent of COVID-19 deaths are among people 65 and older.)

The data comes from the week that ended Feb. 1, through Aug. 8. Although breakdowns by race and age were not consistently reported, it is the best information available.

Mistrustful of Outsiders

Social and economic disadvantage, reinforced by racism, plays a significant part in unequal outcomes. Throughout their lives, Blacks have poorer access to health care and receive services of lower quality than does the general population. Starting in middle age, the toll becomes evident: more chronic medical conditions, which worsen over time, and earlier deaths.

Several conditions—diabetes, chronic kidney disease, obesity, heart failure and pulmonary hypertension, among others—put older Blacks at heightened risk of becoming seriously ill and dying from COVID-19.

Yet many vulnerable Black seniors are deeply distrustful of government and health care institutions, complicating efforts to mitigate the pandemic’s impact.

The infamous Tuskegee syphilis study—in which African American participants in Alabama were not treated for their disease—remains a shocking, indelible example of racist medical experimentation. Just as important, the lifelong experience of racism in health care settings—symptoms discounted, needed treatments not given—leaves psychic scars.

In Seattle, Catholic Community Services sponsors the African American Elders Program, which serves nearly 400 frail, homebound seniors each year.

“A lot of Black elders in this area migrated from the South a long time ago and were victims of a lot of racist practices growing up,” said Margaret Boddie, 77, who directs the program. “With the pandemic, they’re fearful of outsiders coming in and trying to tell them how to think and how to be. They think they’re being targeted. There’s a lot of paranoia.”

“They won’t open the door to people they don’t know, even to talk,” complicating efforts to send in social workers or nurses to provide assistance, Boddie said.

In Los Angeles, Karen Lincoln directs Advocates for African American Elders and is an associate professor of social work at the University of Southern California.

Older Blacks are keeping to themselves. They’re deeply distrustful of government and of health care providers. 

“Health literacy is a big issue in the older African American population because of how people were educated when they were young,” she said. “My maternal grandmother, she had a third-grade education. My grandfather, he made it to the fifth grade. For many people, understanding the information that’s put out, especially when it changes so often and people don’t really understand why, is a challenge.”

What this population needs, Lincoln suggested, is “help from people who they can relate to”—ideally, a cadre of African American community health workers.

With suspicion running high, older Blacks are keeping to themselves and avoiding health care providers.

“Testing? I know only of maybe two people who’ve been tested,” said Mardell Reed, 80, who lives in Pasadena, California, and volunteers with Lincoln’s program. “Taking a vaccine [for the coronavirus]? That is just not going to happen with most of the people I know. They don’t trust it and I don’t trust it.”

Reed has high blood pressure, anemia, arthritis and thyroid and kidney disease, all fairly well controlled. She rarely goes outside because of COVID-19. “I’m just afraid of being around people,” she admitted.

Other factors contribute to the heightened risk for older Blacks during the pandemic. They have fewer financial resources to draw upon and fewer community assets (such as grocery stores, pharmacies, transportation, community organizations that provide aging services) to rely on in times of adversity. And housing circumstances can contribute to the risk of infection.

In Chicago, Gilbert James, 78, lives in a 27-floor senior housing building, with 10 apartments on each floor. But only two of the building’s three elevators are operational at any time. Despite a “two-person-per-elevator policy,” people crowd onto the elevators, making it difficult to maintain social distance.

“The building doesn’t keep us updated on how they’re keeping things clean or whether people have gotten sick or died” of COVID-19, James said. Nationally, there are no efforts to track COVID-19 in low-income senior housing and little guidance about necessary infection control.

Large numbers of older Blacks also live in intergenerational households, where other adults, many of them essential workers, come and go for work, risking exposure to the coronavirus. As children return to school, they too are potential vectors of infection.

‘Striving Yet Never Arriving’

In recent years, the American Psychological Association has called attention to the impact of racism-related stress in older African Americans—yet another source of vulnerability.

This toxic stress, revived each time racism becomes manifest, has deleterious consequences to physical and mental health. Even racist acts committed against others can be a significant stressor.

“This older generation went through the civil rights movement. Desegregation. Their kids went through busing. They grew up with a knee on their neck, as it were,” said Keith Whitfield, provost at Wayne State University and an expert on aging in African Americans. “For them, it was an ongoing battle, striving yet never arriving. But there’s also a lot of resilience that we shouldn’t underestimate.”

This year, for some elders, violence against Blacks and COVID-19’s heavy toll on African American communities have been painful triggers. “The level of stress has definitely increased,” Lincoln said.

During ordinary times, families and churches are essential supports, providing practical assistance and emotional nurturing. But during the pandemic, many older Blacks have been isolated.

In her capacity as a volunteer, Reed has been phoning Los Angeles seniors. “For some of them, I’m the first person they’ve talked to in two to three days. They talk about how they don’t have anyone. I never knew there were so many African American elders who never married and don’t have children,” she said.

Meanwhile, social networks that keep elders feeling connected to other people are weakening.

“What is especially difficult for elders is the disruption of extended support networks, such as neighbors or the people they see at church,” said Taylor, of the University of Michigan. “Those are the ‘Hey, how are you doing? How are your kids? Anything you need?’ interactions. That type of caring is very comforting and it’s now missing.”

In Brooklyn, NY, Barbara Apparicio, 77, has been having Bible discussions with a group of church friends on the phone each weekend. Apparicio is a breast cancer survivor who had a stroke in 2012 and walks with a cane. Her son and his family live in an upstairs apartment, but she does not see him much.

“The hardest part for me [during this pandemic] has been not being able to go out to do the things I like to do and see people I normally see,” she said.

In Atlanta, Celestine Bray Bottoms, 83, who lives on her own in an affordable senior housing community, is relying on her faith to pull her through what has been a very difficult time. Bottoms was hospitalized with chest pains this month—a problem that persists. She receives dialysis three times a week and has survived leukemia.

“I don’t like the way the world is going. Right now, it’s awful,” she said. “But every morning when I wake up, the first thing I do is thank the Lord for another day. I have a strong faith and I feel blessed because I’m still alive. And I’m doing everything I can not to get this virus because I want to be here a while longer.”

KHN data editor Elizabeth Lucas contributed to this story.

 

COVID-19 Sets Off a Pandemic of Despair for Older People

The longer their isolation goes on, the harder it is for many
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As communities cautiously open up after the lockdown, older adults are being urged to not leave home yet because they’re more vulnerable than those who are younger. Journalist Judith Graham explores some of the consequences in this article that was posted on the KHN website on May 28, 2020. Funding from the Silver Century Foundation helps KHN develop articles (like this one) on longevity and related health and social issues. Graham’s story also ran on CNN.  

As states relax coronavirus restrictions, older adults are advised, in most cases, to keep sheltering in place. But for some, the burden of isolation and uncertainty is becoming hard to bear.

This “stay at home awhile longer” advice recognizes that older adults are more likely to become critically ill and die if infected with the virus. At highest risk are seniors with underlying medical conditions such as heart, lung or autoimmune diseases.

Yet after two months at home, many want to go out into the world again. It is discouraging for them to see people of other ages resume activities. They feel excluded. Still, they want to be safe.

“It’s been really lonely,” said Kathleen Koenen, 77, who moved to Atlanta in July after selling her house in South Carolina. She’s living in a 16th-floor apartment while waiting to move into a senior housing community, which has had cases of COVID-19.

“I had thought that would be a new community for me, but everyone there is isolated,” Koenen said. “Wherever we go, we’re isolated in this situation. And the longer it goes on, the harder it becomes.”

(Georgia residents age 65 and older [were] required to shelter in place through June 12, along with other vulnerable populations.)

Her daughter, Karestan Koenen, is a professor of psychiatric epidemiology at Harvard University’s T.H. Chan School of Public Health. During a Facebook Live event this month, she said her mother had felt in March and April that “everyone was in [this crisis] together.” But now, that sense of communality has disappeared.

Making it worse, some seniors fear that their lives may be seen as expendable in the rush to reopen the country.

“[Older adults] are wondering if their lives are going to end shortly for reasons out of their control,” said Linda Fried, MD, dean of the Mailman School of Public Health at Columbia University, in a university publication. “They’re wondering if they’ll be able to get the care they need. And most profoundly, they’re wondering if they are going to be cast out of society. If their lives have value.”

If anything, I’ve seen a very strong will to live and acceptance of whatever one’s fate might be.

— Marc Agronin, MD 

On the positive side, resilience is common in this age group. Virtually all older adults have known adversity and loss; many have a “this too shall pass” attitude. And research confirms that they tend to be adept at regulating their reactions to stressful life events—a useful skill in this pandemic.

“If anything, I’ve seen a very strong will to live and acceptance of whatever one’s fate might be,” said Marc Agronin, MD, a geriatric psychiatrist and vice president of behavioral health at Miami Jewish Health, a 20-acre campus with independent living, assisted living, nursing home care and other services.

Several times a week, psychologists, nurses and social workers are calling residents on the campus, doing brief, mental health checks and referring anyone who needs help for follow-up attention. There’s “a lot of loneliness,” Agronin said, but many seniors are “already habituated to being alone or are doing OK with contact [only] from staff.”

Still, “if this goes on much longer,” he said, “I think we’ll start to see less engagement, more withdrawal, more isolation—a greater toll of disconnection.”

Erin Cassidy-Eagle, PhD, a clinical associate professor of psychiatry at Stanford University, shares that concern.

From mid-March to mid-April, all her conversations with older patients revolved around several questions: “How do we keep from getting COVID-19? How am I going to get my needs met? What’s going to happen to me?”

But more recently, Cassidy-Eagle said, “older adults have realized the course of being isolated is going to be much longer for them than for everyone else. And sadness, loneliness and some hopelessness have set in.”

She tells of a woman in her 70s who moved into independent living in a continuing care community because she wanted to build a strong social network. Since March, activities and group dining have been canceled. The community’s director recently announced that restrictions would remain until 2021.

“This woman had a tendency to be depressed, but she was doing OK,” Cassidy-Eagle said. “Now she’s incredibly depressed and she feels trapped.”

A 93-year-old plunged into despair after her assisted living facility went on lockdown in mid-March. Medications have not helped.

Especially vulnerable during this pandemic are older adults who have suffered previous trauma. Gary Kennedy, MD, director of the division of geriatric psychiatry at Montefiore Medical Center in New York City, has seen this happen to several patients, including a Holocaust survivor in her 90s.

This woman lives with her son, who got COVID-19. Then she did as well. “It’s like going back to the terror of the [concentration] camp,” Kennedy said, “an agonizing emotional flashback.”

Jennifer Olszewski, EdD, an expert in gerontology at Drexel University, works in three nursing homes in the Philadelphia area. As is true across most of the country, no visitors are allowed, and residents are mostly confined to their rooms.

“I’m seeing a lot of patients with pronounced situational depression,” she said, “decreased appetite, decreased energy, a lack of motivation and overall feelings of sadness.”

“If this goes on for months longer, I think we’ll see more people with functional decline, mental health decline and failure to thrive,” Olszewski said.

Some are simply giving up. Anne Sansevero, a geriatric care manager in New York City, has a 93-year-old client who plunged into despair after her assisted living facility went on lockdown in mid-March. Antidepressant and anti-anxiety medications have not helped.

“She’s telling her family and her health aides ‘life’s not worth living. Please help me end it,’” Sansevero said. “And she’s stopped eating and getting out of bed.”

The woman’s attentive adult children are doing all they can to comfort their mother at a distance and are feeling acute anguish.

What can be done to ease this sort of psychic pain? Kennedy of Montefiore has several suggestions.

Older adults may not own up to feeling depressed, but some will describe physical symptoms, such as difficulty sleeping or concentrating.

“Don’t try to counter the person’s perception and offer false reassurance. Instead, say, yes, this is bad, no doubt about it. It’s understandable to be angry, to be sad. Then provide a sense of companionship. Tell the person, ‘I can’t change this situation but I can be with you. I’ll call tomorrow or in a few days and check in with you again.’”

“Try to explore what made life worth living before the person started feeling this way,” he said. “Remind them of ways they’ve coped with adversity in the past.”

If someone is religiously inclined, encourage them to reach out to a pastor or a rabbi. “Tell them, I’d like to pray together or read this Bible passage and discuss it,” Kennedy said. “Comforting person-to-person interaction is a very effective form of support.”

Do not count on older adults to own up to feeling depressed. “Some people will acknowledge that, yes, they’ve been feeling sad, but others may describe physical symptoms—fatigue, difficulty sleeping, difficulty concentrating,” said Julie Lutz, PhD, a postdoctoral fellow at the University of Rochester.

If someone has expressed frequent concerns about being a burden to other people or has become notably withdrawn, that’s a worrisome sign, Lutz said.

In nursing homes, ask for a referral to a psychologist or social worker, especially for a loved one who’s recovering from a COVID hospitalization.

“Almost everybody that I’m seeing has some kind of adjustment disorder because their whole worlds have been turned upside down,” said Eleanor Feldman Barbera, PhD, an elder care psychologist in New York City. “Talking to a psychologist when they first come in can help put people on a good trajectory.”

The National Alliance on Mental Illness has compiled a COVID-19 information and resource guide, available at https://www.nami.org/covid-19-guide. The American Psychological Association has created a webpage devoted to this topic and recently wrote about finding local mental health resources. The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration has a 24-hour hotline, 1-800-662-4357. And the national suicide prevention hotline for those in acute distress is 1-800-273-8255.

 

Why the New Public Charge Rule Could Hit Older Immigrants Hard

Critics worry about the Trump administration’s changes
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Digging into the possibilities opened up by this controversial new federal regulation, journalist Jaya Padmanbhan explores what it will mean to some immigrants and their families. This article originally appeared on the PBS Next Avenue website on Feb. 24, 2020.  Silver Century posts it with the permission of Next Avenue and the author. 

Devyani Dave immigrated from India to California in 1995 in her early 60s to live near her son and his family. Her green card was sponsored by her son (who prefers not to reveal his name), a citizen who came to the United States in 1973. When Dave arrived to start her new life, she had no health insurance and relied on her son to support her. Now, sitting on a bench at Priya Living, a senior-community facility in Santa Clara, CA, Dave said she feels fortunate to be in close proximity to her only child, especially as she ages.

But some immigration experts say the Trump administration’s new public charge rule, [which was put] into effect by the US Citizenship and Immigration Services on February 24, 2020, nationwide, will no longer welcome people in similar circumstances [to] Dave’s. That’s because, the analysts say, it will deem them likely to become liabilities for America.

How the Public Charge Test Has Changed 

Since 1999, federal immigration law has had a public charge test in place to deny people admission to the United States if the government identifies them as ones who may be “primarily dependent” on the government for support, either through cash-assistance programs or long term institutional care.

But the Trump administration is altering the definition of “public charge.” Under the new rule, any person who uses designated benefits for 12 months in any 36-month period might be considered a public charge. And the list of benefits has expanded to include Medicaid, the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP, formerly known as Food Stamps) and Section 8 housing assistance.

It’s nearly impossible for older immigrants to pass the “totality of circumstances” test.

A public-charge determination will be made, at the time of applying for a green card or admission at the US border, by an immigration officer after considering a “totality of circumstances,” a discretionary weighting system [that looks] at factors including age, health, family status, assets, education and skills.

The totality of circumstances test will penalize people 62 years or older, said Natalie Kean, senior staff attorney at Justice in Aging, a nonpartisan legal advocacy group addressing senior poverty, making it “nearly impossible for older adults to pass the ‘public charge’ test under the new criteria.”

Who Is Likely to Be Most Affected?

Kean and other immigrant analysts say the revised public charge rule will tilt negatively for immigrants with chronic health conditions or disabilities; those who are not fluent in English; and those earning less than 125 percent of the federal poverty limit—that’s $21,138 for a two-person household.

With these stringent benchmarks, the new rule could have an outsize impact on low-income, older immigrants of color, preventing some from becoming legal permanent residents in the country they live in or aspire to live in.

This will have “a ripple effect on their families who are here in the United States, as well as our communities in general,” said Kean.

When the Supreme Court ruled on January 27, 2020, to give the Trump administration the go-ahead for its public charge rule, a statement from the White House press secretary called the decision “a massive win for American taxpayers, American workers and the American Constitution.”

In a fact sheet promoting the new public charge rule, the White House cited a 2017 poll from America First Policies (a pro-Trump organization), saying that 73 percent of Americans favor requiring immigrants coming to the country to be self-sufficient. 

Critics of the new public charge rule, however, say older, poorer immigrants will be harmed by it. In an amicus brief filed by Justice in Aging and others to contest the new rule, one of the arguments points to the situation of five million older immigrants who “are likely to have supported their families, have contributed to our nation’s economy by, for example, paying taxes and contributing to Social Security, and have been integrated into the fabric of our country. Yet, under the Final Rule, they will be viewed as having failed to contribute to society.”

How Immigrants Are Reacting

“That’s not fair!” exclaimed Losa Petela, a 60-year-old, legal immigrant from the South Pacific archipelago of Tonga, who lives in Fremont, CA, and has worked as a home caregiver in the Bay Area for nearly 10 years. Citing her own example, Petela said that immigrants who’ve served their US community well, even if they are older, should be allowed to get their green cards.

Praveen Thakur, 79, a US citizen who came here over 50 years ago from India and lives in Santa Clara, CA, takes a slightly different view. “If the children take full responsibility [for their parents], then older parents should be allowed to come and get a green card so that they can stay with their families,” he said.

Dave makes another distinction: “Those whose children are contributing to the [United States] for so many years and who don’t have anyone left in India should be allowed to join their families,” she said.

Fear and Confusion

Fears about the implications of the new public charge rule are spreading.

“We know that health care providers and social service agencies across the country are already starting to get calls from concerned individuals, asking whether or not it is safe to remain enrolled in health, housing and nutrition programs,” said Madison Allen, senior policy attorney from the Center for Law and Social Policy, a nonpartisan nonprofit working on policy solutions for low-income people.

This chilling effect, caused by confusion as to who or what will be subject to the public charge test, has resulted in some legal immigrants disenrolling from public programs even before the February 24, 2020, official start date.

The New York City Department of Social Services has said that in 2018, roughly 11 percent of the city’s noncitizen immigrants who are eligible for and lawfully receiving SNAP benefits have either left the SNAP caseload or have decided not to enroll, at a higher rate than US citizens in the program. The agency cited a correlation between this decline in enrollment and the public charge proposals, due to a “fear of potential immigration consequences.”

Opposition to the Rule Change

Congresswoman Judy Chu, a Democrat representing communities near Los Angeles, said at a Jan. 31, 2020, press briefing, “By keeping families apart, Trump is making it harder on immigrants to succeed.” Last year, Chu introduced the No Public Funds for Public Charge Act, which would prevent federal funds from being used to implement the new public charge rule. The bill has 118 Democrat cosponsors from 34 states and no Republicans.

“We are in a wait-and-see period right now,” said Denny Chan, a senior staff attorney at Justice in Aging. Arguing that the new public charge rule unlawfully targets older immigrants and their families, five briefs have been filed in circuit courts by organizations advocating for the elderly.

“It’s going to be a lengthy process,” Chan said….

Older immigrants who are worried about the public charge rule, Chan said, should “speak to an immigration attorney to get individualized legal assistance before they make any decision to access, or apply for, benefits.”

Silver Century Foundation: The change in the public charge rule went into effect in late February, 2020, just as the coronavirus epidemic was exploding across the country. Since then, the US Citizenship and Immigration Services has agreed not to use the new rule to deny visas or green cards to immigrants who are tested or treated for COVID-19.  Advocacy groups say, however, that immigrants are still avoiding medical care because of fear and confusion.

 

Older and Wiser—but Dizzier

At some point, most people over 65 experience dizziness
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Carol Kuhlman vividly remembers a weekend trip with friends about two years ago—because that’s when she started feeling dizzy. The lightheaded, unsteady sensation came on gradually and quickly got worse. 

“It was very uncomfortable,” said Kuhlman, 66. “I had to hold onto things just to keep from falling. By Monday I was so dizzy, I couldn’t go to work.”

Her physician diagnosed her with vertigo, noticing her rapid eye movements, recommended some exercises and prescribed meclizine, which didn’t prove a practical solution. 

“I took one tablet in the middle of the day and immediately slept for five hours,” she said. 

The doctor wrote a note to excuse Kuhlman from work—for just two days. She was still dizzy when she went back. Her colleagues immediately noticed something wasn’t right. “I was very unsteady on my feet and weaving all over the place,” she said. 

Many times, dizziness is caused by something benign, but it’s still emotionally and psychologically devastating. 

Kuhlman’s struggle wasn’t an atypical one for older adults. Dizziness can affect anyone, but older people are more prone—about 70 percent of adults over 65 have suffered from it in some form. And compared to younger people, dizziness in older adults tends to be more persistent, have more causes and be more incapacitating. 

“We see patients with dizziness very frequently, and we take it very seriously,” said Anupama Gangavati, MD, an assistant professor in internal medicine in the division of geriatric medicine at UT Southwestern Medical Center in Dallas. 

A patient’s experience of dizziness may come in a variety of forms: a feeling of lightheadedness or imbalance; a sensation of blacking out; or vertigo, the perception that the patient—or the surrounding environment—is spinning, tilting or moving. 

Several studies show that older people with a history of dizziness are at higher risk of falling, which is a leading cause of hospitalization and accidental death among those over age 65.

While many causes of dizziness turn out to be benign, the effects can be emotionally and psychologically devastating. Dizziness is disorienting and unnerving. Sudden bouts are frightening; chronic cases can be debilitating. 

“It’s a quality of life issue,” said Gangavati. “Dizziness can lead to a lot of psychological distress if you’re not able to control it. Patients should not let it go just because a physician has not addressed it successfully on the first try.”  

What Causes Dizziness?

Accurate diagnosis can be a challenge. Dizziness can stem from a range of issues, including problems affecting the inner ear, brain, eyes, nervous system, vascular system or heart, all of which are subject to aging-related changes, according to Kathleen Stross, PT, a neurological and vestibular therapist.

Many older adults take multiple medications; dizziness may be a side effect of one or the result of an interaction between drugs. Neurological conditions like Parkinson’s can cause dizziness. Even health issues that might seem unrelated—such as neuropathy (numbness or loss of feeling) in the feet—can cause a patient to feel unbalanced and dizzy. Stress, depression or a lack of exercise may also contribute, as can dehydration or hot weather conditions. 

Among older people, one of the most common causes of dizziness is dysfunction of the peripheral vestibular system—the inner ear and its pathways to the brain. This controls a person’s balance and spatial perception. Neurologists call the vestibular system “the sixth sense” and, just like other sensory functions, it changes as people age. 

“As we age, just as our vision changes and our hearing may be affected, the vestibular system ages as well and may not function as well as it did when we were younger,” said Stross.

Patients can help their medical providers to diagnose the cause more accurately by giving a clear description of their dizziness. Stross gives new patients a questionnaire to help pinpoint their experience—what it feels like, how often it occurs and what, if anything, seems to trigger it. 

“The way people describe it can really vary, so I ask patients to tell me how they feel without using the word ‘dizzy,’” said Stross. “For some, it’s a feeling of being lightheaded or off-balance. Some describe it as feeling ‘heavy headed’ or a sense of floating or pressure. Others say they feel as if they’re spinning or moving.”  

Steve Lavine, 65, of Plano, TX, began experiencing dizzy spells when standing up from a chair. They got progressively worse, to the point where he felt he might black out. Lavine checked his blood pressure and found it was low, almost dangerously so. After consulting with his physician, Lavine stopped the blood pressure medication he had been taking for more than six months with no problems. Lavine had since lost 15 pounds through diet and exercise. The medication was now overcorrecting and making his blood pressure too low, causing the dizzy spells. When he stopped the medicine, the problem disappeared in a few days.

A thorough medication review is absolutely important.

— Anupama Gangavati, MD

When a patient complains of dizziness, one of the first things Gangavati checks is the person’s list of medications. Blood pressure medications are common culprits, as are antidepressants, beta blockers, prostate medications and diuretics.   

“Medications are one of the most common contributors of lightheadedness or dizziness,” she said. “A thorough medication review is absolutely important.” 

Gangavati also performs an exam, reviews the patient’s medical history and asks about triggers—when the dizziness occurs and what seems to be causing it. 

Beyond drug side effects, Gangavati said she sees three common causes of dizziness among her older adult patients: benign paroxysmal position vertigo (BPPV), orthostatic hypotension and postprandial hypotension. 

BPPV occurs when tiny calcium particles (canaliths) clump up in canals of the inner ear, interfering with normal perception about head and body movements relative to gravity. Doctors diagnose the condition by observing patients’ eyes while they’re moving their heads. Patients with BPPV exhibit rapid, uncontrollable eye movements. The symptoms may be severe, making the patient feel as if the room is spinning, and may lead to nausea and vomiting. 

“BPPV tends to occur in episodic bouts of a few hours,” Gangavati said. “It’s triggered by head movement, and if you stop moving your head and keep it in one position, it subsides or goes away.” 

Orthostatic hypotension is a bout of dizziness or lightheadedness due to a lack of blood supply to the brain, typically triggered when a person stands from a sitting or lying position. Postprandial hypotension occurs when patients feel dizzy or faint after eating a meal, because their blood supply is geared to the stomach to digest the meal.

Trial and Error

Imani Calicutt, 65, of Dallas, sometimes experiences bouts of dizziness, and her doctor’s not sure why.

“Lately, it’s been constant,” she said. “It’s really limiting me because I can’t go very far without having to sit down.”

She’s working with her doctor (now via telemedicine due to the COVID-19 crisis) to determine the cause. Because Calicutt takes an array of medications for arthritis, diabetes, chronic pain and kidney disease, she’s expecting it may take some trial-and-error to find the cause.  

That’s not uncommon, Stross said. 

“In our experience, patients usually need to see three physicians before they get an answer,” said Stross. Because dizziness could relate to any number of areas of the body, finding the right specialist isn’t easy. 

After a visit to a primary care physician, the patient’s next step might be an appointment with an ENT (ear-nose-throat) specialist or a neurologist, or possibly a cardiologist (if vascular issues are suspected) or hematologist (if anemia is suspected). 

Brief moments of lightheadedness are probably not serious but do mention them to your doctor.

To treat dizziness, a physician may prescribe medications or dietary and behavioral modifications. That can include basic steps like ensuring the patient is drinking enough fluids and getting enough rest and exercise. 

For problems relating to the inner ear, including BPPV, vestibular rehabilitation therapy can be effective. Vestibular therapy ranges from simple exercises (a well-known one is the Epley maneuver, which involves positioning the head to help dislodge the tiny particles that cause BPPV) to physical therapy that helps the patient learn to compensate for imbalance and maintain physical activity. Vestibular therapy, when indicated, may provide immediate relief, or it may take some time to see results.

Gangavati added that many older people will experience brief moments of lightheadedness that likely don’t signal any serious problem. But she recommends at least mentioning it on the next visit to the doctor. “I think any dizziness should be discussed with your physician.” 

If acute dizziness occurs and is accompanied by other symptoms—like chest pain, difficulty walking or slurred speech—it could be a medical emergency, like a heart attack or stroke. In that case, Gangavati advises, head to the emergency room.  

Chronic Dizziness

Twelve years ago, as he walked out of the hospital after finishing his rounds, Tom Davis began to feel dizzy. 

“I’ve been dizzy ever since,” said Davis, 58, a physician in St. Louis, MO. Over the years, specialists have come up with different diagnoses: vestibular neuronitis, vestibulitis and Meniere’s disease, among others. None of the prescribed treatments fixed the problem permanently. Vestibular therapy made it worse. He considered surgery, which would destroy the nerve in the inner ear, but that would leave him deaf in one ear and offered no guarantees. At this point, instead of searching for a diagnosis, he’s focused on managing the symptoms as best he can. 

“It really doesn’t matter what’s causing it, because there’s no way to fix it,” he said. “You just have to work your way around that reality.” Regular exercise keeps him strong and helps reduce the risk of falls. On bad days, he takes a low-dose sedative and rests.

Unfortunately, like Davis, some people may have to contend with dizziness as a chronic or recurring issue. He says getting social support is important, especially for older people who might be tempted to isolate or become sedentary, for fear of falls. 

“If you have chronic dizziness, you’re not alone,” he said. “There are many groups on Facebook where you can get support from others.” 

Patients with chronic dizziness can also find helpful information and links to providers on the website for the Vestibular Disorders Association. Several other organizations offer support groups and other resources.   

Carol Kuhlman has been more fortunate. She did find some relief. She returned to work, still dizzy, a few days after her symptoms first appeared. She’s an administrative assistant at a medical school and, as luck would have it, an expert on vestibular disorders was visiting her department that day. 

Coworkers arranged for her to see the specialist, who diagnosed acute peripheral vestibulopathy (inflammation of the inner ear). He prescribed vestibular therapy, which helped reduce the dizziness and restored her sense of balance. Kuhlman still has flare-ups from time to time, but she’s found a way to manage them. Exercise and stress management seem to help.

“When it recurs, I go back to the balancing exercises, which help,” she said. “And when I have a flare-up, I just have to push through.” 

 

Is Aging a Disease?

Some say it is, but others disagree. Funding hangs in the balance
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It’s not just semantics—a matter of whether you refer to aging as a disease or a stage of life. The choice has consequences. Daily Beast columnist Joelle Renstrom digs deep here and considers all sides of the argument in this thoughtful piece, which was written with the support of a journalism fellowship from the Gerontological Society of America, Journalists Network on Generations, and the Commonwealth Fund. Her article was posted originally on Slate on March 2, 2020.

The first depiction of humanity’s obsession with curing death is The Epic of Gilgamesh—which, dating back to at least 1800 BC, is also one of the first recorded works of literature, period. 

Centuries later, the ancient Roman playwright Terentius declared, “Old age itself is a sickness,” and Cicero argued [that], “we must struggle against [old age], as against a disease.” In 450 BC, Herodotus wrote about the fountain of youth, a restorative spring that reverses aging, and inspired explorers such as Ponce de León. 

But what once was a mythical holy grail is now seemingly within tantalizing reach. As humans’ understanding and knowledge of science and technology have increased, so too have our life spans. Until the 1800s, life expectancy across Europe averaged between 30 and 40 years, and now the average life expectancy in the United States is just under 79 years; in Japan and Hong Kong, it’s more than 84 years.

Maybe the ancients weren’t wrong, and aging can be not only delayed but cured like a disease. Over the years, the movement to classify aging as a disease has gained momentum not only from longevity enthusiasts but also from scientists. In 1954, Robert M. Perlman published a paper in the Journal of the American Geriatrics Society called “The Aging Syndrome” in which he called aging a “disease complex.” 

Since then, others have jumped on board, including gerontologists frustrated by a lack of funding to study the aging process itself. A 2015 publication by a team of international researchers declares, “It is time to classify biological aging as a disease.” In 2018, the World Health Organization added an extension code in the latest version of the International Classification of Diseases for “ageing-related diseases,” which it defines as those “caused by pathological processes which persistently lead to the loss of organism’s adaptation and progress in older ages.” In other words, diseases that occur and worsen as we age, like cancer and arthritis. That decision may pave the way for defining aging itself as a disease.

However, labeling aging itself as a disease is both misleading and detrimental. Pathologizing a universal process makes it seem toxic. In our youth-obsessed society, ageism already runs rampant in Hollywood, the job market and even presidential races. And calling aging a disease doesn’t address critical questions about why we age in the first place. Instead of calling aging a disease, scientists should aim to identify and treat the underlying processes that cause aging and age-related cellular deterioration.

Old age isn’t abnormal, so why would aging be pathological?

Medical understanding of that cellular deterioration began in 1962, when Leonard Hayflick, PhD, professor of anatomy at the University of California San Francisco School of Medicine, made fundamental breakthroughs to understanding aging: he discovered a limit to how many times typical human cells divide before they become senescent, or exhausted. Before then, scientists had assumed human cells were immortal. Hayflick also figured out that telomeres, which cap the ends of chromosomes and prevent them from fraying, much [as] plastic tips preserve the ends of shoelaces, shorten each time a cell divides. When the telomeres get short enough, a cell stops dividing.

Questions about the underlying processes of aging, and [their] relationship to specific diseases, endure. In 2013, a team of international researchers identified nine “hallmarks of aging”: disrupted communication between cells, genome mutations (associated with cancer), telomere shortening, changes in DNA’s chemical structure (apart from the genetic code), degradation of cellular proteins, diminished cellular ability to identify and adjust to nutrient levels, impaired mitochondrial functioning, cellular senescence (when cells stop dividing and growing due to age), and nonrenewal of stem cells. 

While each hallmark has symptoms, “there are no biomarkers to describe aging overall,” according to Chuck Dinerstein, [MD], senior medical fellow at the American Council on Science and Health. These hallmarks occur in every human, and because many of them occur simultaneously, it’s difficult to tease out each individual process or to identify causal relationships. We know that the net effect is aging, but there’s a lot scientists don’t yet know about the processes that cause these hallmarks. Hayflick has argued that differentiating between aging and age-associated diseases is crucial, and that the lack of distinction between them “is the most serious impediment to our understanding of the aging process.”

Semantics and subjectivity add to the difficulty. Old age isn’t abnormal, so why would aging be pathological? If aging is a disease, then all 7.7 billion people on Earth have it, and everyone over the age of 65 has an advanced case. If you bristle at that notion, you have a sense of the designation’s damaging stigma. 

Suresh Rattan, [PhD], of Denmark’s Aarhus University’s Laboratory of Cellular Ageing, believes that a condition everyone experiences can’t by definition be a disease. Yes, aging is associated with numerous health issues: heart disease, Alzheimer’s and many types of cancer and diabetes. But while those diseases become more common as people age, not every aging person acquires them (and sometimes younger people do). 

Peter Boling, [MD], director of geriatrics at Virginia Commonwealth University Medical School, noted in a panel at the 2019 Gerontological Society of America [GSA] conference that such “conditions are not directly linked to aging as a biologic phenomenon per se.” In other words, while these conditions are associated with aging, they aren’t necessarily triggered by aging itself but rather by the biological processes of aging, or the cause of those nine hallmarks. 

Biological processes are the cause, while age-related diseases are the effect. That means that treatments that appear to slow aging overall might actually only be addressing one symptom, and doctors and patients might not realize that limited efficacy for a long time.

It’s an uphill battle to get Congress to fund research into a process that is not an actual disease.

Classifying aging as a disease also suggests that it could be preventable and/or curable. Perhaps at some point, if scientists can figure out what causes the underlying process of aging, this could be the case. However, nothing can prevent humans from getting older, and that misleading notion opens the door to snake-oil treatments.

A position statement prepared by Hayflick and more than 50 other scientists warns that claims made by companies producing anti-aging drugs, supplements, hormones and other treatments are “intentionally false, misleading, or exaggerated for commercial reasons.” Such marketing leads not only to fruitless consumer spending but also makes it difficult for the public to separate corporate propaganda from scientific research. Society’s obsession with youth, coupled with humans’ susceptibility to wishful thinking and magic-bullet promises, ensures demand for these products, which dubious and disingenuous suppliers will happily meet.

The claims that various treatments fight aging haven’t been vetted because the Food and Drug Administration [FDA] does not currently regulate any practices or products designed to address aging. Boling points out that even if someone created a drug to mitigate the cellular processes underlying aging, it “could not find a pathway to market.” 

This is the most compelling reason for the disease classification, and the reason some gerontologists support it. In addition to greater regulatory guidance, aging research would likely receive far better funding. Congress allocates money to researching age-related conditions such as Alzheimer’s, but getting Congress to fund research into a process that is not an actual disease is an uphill battle.

However, according to G. Alexander Fleming, [MD], former FDA supervisory medical officer, the FDA “has long approved products that prevent chronic disease.” The issue here seems largely semantic, but it underscores the importance of addressing not just the effects of aging but the underlying causes of those symptoms.

Given that aging is the biggest risk factor for chronic diseases, treatments that focus on the underlying aging process could, according to Fleming, “in one fell swoop, intervene in several or many chronic diseases of aging.” Furthermore, the processes underlying age-related diseases likely overlap, so if researchers can figure out what biological processes make people more susceptible to heart disease or Alzheimer’s, they could potentially treat multiple conditions at once.

If we think of aging only as an enemy to be conquered, we lose sight of ways to improve our health and quality of life in later years. 

The distinction between aging and its underlying causes also affects research funding. Jamie Justice, [PhD], an assistant professor of gerontology and geriatric medicine at Wake Forest, said during the GSA panel that she doesn’t think “Is aging a disease?” is the right question. The better question, she said, is “Why do we have to force aging to be a disease in order to get clinicians, regulatory officials and stakeholders to do something about it?” 

Part of the answer, according to Hayflick, is that what policymakers don’t know about aging dictates their decisions: “Policy makers … must understand that the resolution of age-associated diseases will not provide insights into understanding the fundamental biology of age changes. They often believe that it will, and base decisions on that misunderstanding.”

Because of that misconception, funding for research into age-related diseases such as cancer and Alzheimer’s far exceeds funding for research into biological aging processes. If old age is a risk factor for nearly all of the conditions likely to kill us, Hayflick asks, “why then are we not devoting significantly greater resources to understanding what … increase[s] vulnerability to all age-associated pathology?” Understanding the underlying processes would allow scientists to work on treatments that address the causes of aging, not just its effects.

Rattan articulates concerns with “enemy-oriented rhetoric, such as the ‘war against aging,’ ‘defeating aging,’ and ‘conquering aging.’” Even in medicine, language matters. Aging is not our foe, nor is it categorically negative. If we embrace the idea of vanquishing this “enemy,” we may not only encourage ageism but also lose sight of ways we can improve our health and quality of life as we get older.

Many gerontologists distinguish between “healthspan” and “lifespan,” the length of time someone enjoys [relatively] good health versus the length of someone’s life. Longevity while in poor health, pain or with limitations that sap quality of life makes little sense. Fleming urges “regulators and public policy makers to embrace healthspan as an organizing focus for facilitating the development of medicine that targets aging and chronic diseases.” This shift would promote research on disease-causing processes, which could help us prevent more age-related diseases, not just manage them.

As gerontologists Sean Leng, [MD, PhD], and Brian Kennedy, [PhD], put it, “Aging is the climate change of health care.” The Population Reference Bureau predicts that 100 million Americans will be 65 or older by 2060. How will we care for this population? It’s daunting to think about one’s own aging, let alone the 16 percent of the world’s population who will be senior citizens by midcentury. A big-picture approach focused on the processes of aging—processes we share with nearly all living organisms—will put us on a path not only to longer lives but to healthier ones.

Patient Advocates: Pathfinders in the Complex World of Medicine

They provide advice and support for patients and their families
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When a life-threatening staph infection sent Dominick Buttiglieri, 64, to the hospital, his situation quickly worsened—and his wife, Deborah, soon felt overwhelmed. 

“His organs were shutting down, and the doctors weren’t giving us much hope,” she said. Dominick was in pain and barely conscious; Deborah was beside herself with worry. 

The Buttiglieris’ son lives in another city and couldn’t be there to help. Instead, he searched online and hired AnnMarie McIlwain, a patient advocate, who turned up at the hospital to assist. Immediately, the family felt more control over the situation. 

“AnnMarie spoke to the doctors, gave me better insight into what was going on and made suggestions without telling us what to do,” Deborah Buttiglieri said. “I’m not an in-your-face person. I didn’t know what questions to ask to get the information I wanted.” 

As Dominick started to recover, McIlwain helped the family arrange for his transfer to a good rehab facility. Now, he’s home and on the mend. 

We have the most confusing health care system in the world. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, it’s not you.

—Caitlin Donovan

More and more patients and their families are following the same path as the Buttiglieris: enlisting the help of a patient advocate to navigate the complexities of the medical system. 

“A patient advocate’s role is to make sure the medical team has the right information, to make certain the client is getting the proper attention, and translating for the family what is going on,” McIlwain said. “The hospital environment is stressful; patients are usually in pain, sedated and weak, and their loved ones are understandably emotional. It’s too much to advocate for themselves.”

Patient advocates support people undergoing medical treatment, with a focus on getting the best possible care while keeping costs as manageable as possible. Patient advocates may also use other names—health advocates, patient or health navigators, case or care managers or doulas. They work one-on-one with patients as independent consultants, paid by the patients or their families. Some advocates come with a medical or social work background; others learn on the job. Many join the field after assisting a family member. 

“Patients should only have to concentrate on getting better,” said Caitlin Donovan of the Patient Advocate Foundation, a nonprofit that provides advocacy and patient education. “We have the most confusing health care system in the world. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, it’s not you.” 

Multiple Roles

Patients who are considering enlisting the help of a patient advocate should first consider: What kind of help is needed? The role of a patient advocate can vary broadly, depending on the patient’s needs and the patient advocate’s area of expertise. Some patient advocates have medical training and assist with navigating medical care, sometimes even specializing in areas like oncology. Some focus on billing issues. Others may assist with more administrative tasks: scheduling medical appointments, helping people sign up for Social Security or Medicare, organizing medical information or hiring a caregiver. Some work in teams to provide a range of skills and expertise.

Patient advocates often fill the communication gaps that can occur with older adults who have multiple medical issues. Deirdra Kindred, an RN and patient advocate, was hired by a family to assist their 92-year-old mother, who was losing weight and refusing to leave her room in the upscale, assisted living facility where she lived. 

“She was suffering from diarrhea and nausea and did not want to leave the room because she was afraid she’d throw up or have an accident,” Kindred said. She learned that the woman was taking 17 medications, some of which had been prescribed for years. She had several specialists but no one assessing her overall medicine intake. Working with the woman’s doctors, Kindred helped her wean to nine medications, and the diarrhea and nausea disappeared. Soon the woman was leaving her apartment, eating regularly and enjoying life again.

A patient advocate understands the system, knows how to ask the right questions and can lessen the burden for patients and their families. 

Some patient advocates assist in navigating insurance and correcting billing errors. Experts estimate that as many as 80 percent of all medical bills contain errors. Yet the process for correcting those errors is often labyrinthine. If there’s a snag in insurance processing, a hospital typically will continue to bill the patient and even threaten to send the bill to a collection agency. Getting the right people on the phone who can resolve the problem—either at the hospital and/or the insurance company—can prove difficult and time-consuming. Most patients don’t have the knowledge or the energy to tackle the challenge. A patient advocate who works in this area, however, understands the system, knows how to ask the right questions and relieves some of the burden for stressed patients and their families.

“When our case managers help a patient, it takes an average of 22 phone calls to resolve a billing issue,” Donovan said. “Having someone who knows how to talk to billing offices and to insurers is incredibly helpful.” 

Patient advocates also help navigate the vastness of the medical system. Barbara Abruzzo, a registered nurse, helps clients obtain second opinions, sorts out their options and manages complex care. She also may assist families in researching which doctors, hospitals or research facilities are best, given the patient’s condition and situation. 

Abruzzo has organized conference calls that brought together family members, hospital administrators, surgeons, physicians and nurses at once to plan a patient’s care when it required the expertise of several different specialists. For that kind of complex care navigation, she believes, clients should seek a patient advocate with medical training. 

“Doctors see that I know what I’m doing and that I mean business,” she said. 

In the Hospital—and Out 

Some patient advocates offer hospital accompaniment—visiting or even staying at the client’s bedside when family members can’t be there or feel they can’t advocate effectively in a complex situation. 

“Too many medical professionals are overworked and overwhelmed,” said Lisa Berry, a patient advocate. “For years, doctors have told me off the record that hospitals are dangerous places, because they cannot do their jobs. It’s very easy for mistakes to be made.” 

No one should go into a hospital without someone there to advocate for them, whether it’s a professional advocate or a family member, said Michael Weisburg, MD, a gastroenterologist. Most primary care physicians no longer have hospital privileges to attend to their patients when they’re hospitalized. Instead, patients’ care is managed by hospitalists—physicians who coordinate their treatment until they go home. Hospitalists work only in hospitals, which employ them, and the care they provide is dictated by each institution’s guidelines.   

“The hospitalist is someone who has never seen you before, knows nothing about you and doesn’t have the time to learn about you,” Weisburg said. “And that doctor in charge may change every couple of days.”

A patient advocate can help as patients leave the hospital—a critical juncture when things can easily go wrong. 

Weisberg experienced this dilemma himself during his 91-year-old father’s hospitalization for a broken hip. While visiting, Weisburg saw that his father was agitated and trying to get out of bed. Weisberg suspected a problem with his catheter and alerted a nurse. However, the hospitalist on duty was occupied by another emergency and simply prescribed a sedative, which only made the patient more agitated. Still busy with the emergency, the hospitalist ordered the nurse to restrain Weisberg’s father. 

Because restraints are dangerous (they can cause patients to aspirate), Weisberg called another hospitalist who had cared for his father earlier and was off duty. That hospitalist ordered nurses to check on the catheter, which, as Weisberg suspected, was not functioning properly. Another catheter was inserted and quickly filled with two bags of urine. Weisberg’s father immediately felt much better and fell into a deep sleep. 

“If I hadn’t been there, he could’ve been put into restraints, aspirated and died,” Weisberg said.  

Another task of patient advocates is to assist clients as they transition out of the hospital for recovery at home, at rehab or at another facility—a critical juncture when things can easily go wrong. Often, hospitals will discharge patients who need ongoing medical attention, expecting family members to pick up the responsibility at home. Patients who don’t have family or friends willing or able to help may be left to fend for themselves. 

Patients do have legal rights in this kind of situation, Berry noted, but most don’t know that. She works hard to make sure her clients aren’t discharged prematurely, which often occurs with Medicaid coverage or similar programs that pay minimal reimbursements to hospitals. In one case, a hospital tried to discharge one of her pro bono clients too early; the social worker on duty told Berry there was no option to protest. Berry knew better and insisted on an emergency hearing with an administrative law judge. The patient stayed. 

Finding a Patient Advocate

The Alliance of Professional Health Advocates offers a complete list of services that patient advocates provide, as well as AdvoConnection, a searchable directory of patient advocates. While users may search by zip code, a patient advocate doesn’t necessarily need to be local. Many advocates can assist remotely, depending on the situation. The Patient Advocate Foundation, a nonprofit, offers a range of services, including trained volunteers who can assist patients with billing and getting access to care; much of their work is done remotely. 

Keep in mind that independent advocates differentiate themselves from nurse navigators or patient advocates hired by hospitals or insurers, who don’t ultimately answer to the patient.

Another good place to start is with nonprofit groups that support people with specific diseases or conditions. These organizations may offer referrals to patient advocates, including some who are volunteers. The American Cancer Society, for example, can connect patients with advocates in some areas of the country. 

When looking to hire a patient advocate to help navigate medical care, talk to at least three candidates by phone, Berry said. (Most will do a preliminary consultation at no cost; ask first.) To get a good feel for whether someone will have the expertise to address particular concerns, provide a clear description of the patient’s issues and needs. 

Family as Advocates

Family members can be effective patient advocates, especially if they’re quick studies and have the time to devote to the task. Bruce Carr found himself in that role in early 2019 when his sister, Joan, 72, was hospitalized with a severe infection that was complicated by underlying conditions. Carr traveled from his home in Ohio to be near her in Dallas. Quickly, the task became his full-time job. 

“I dropped everything,” said Carr, who is a turnaround and bankruptcy consultant. “Thankfully, I was between gigs and in the financial position to take the time off.”  

He spent his days talking to her doctors and helping Joan make tough decisions; he devoted his evenings to reading medical literature and insurance information. Even though his sister was receiving world-class care, Carr said, she needed someone to advocate for her. 

Carr’s advice: keep a journal and write everything down. 

“So much comes at you so fast, you can’t remember if you don’t write it down,” he said.

Eventually, he made decisions when she was unable to do so herself. Joan passed away in September 2019; without his presence, Carr believes, she would have died six months earlier. 

Family members can find resources online to assist in their advocacy efforts. The National Patient Advocate Foundation offers tips for communicating with health care providers. Another nonprofit, Zaggo, offers a variety of resources including a free, downloadable chart for tracking treatments and medications. 

Not everyone, of course, has a family member like Carr available and able to focus on a loved one’s care; professional patient advocates can fill that gap. Plus, disagreements can arise in the family over the best course of action for a family member’s medical care, especially if the patient is unable to make decisions herself (or himself). In those situations, a professional patient advocate can serve as a neutral third party, someone who can objectively weigh available treatment options and help families better resolve disagreements. 

Whether it’s a family member or a professional, Weisberg says, what’s most important is to have someone in your corner when you’re sick. 

“There’s got to be someone—a parent, a spouse, a child, someone you pay—who has your best interests at heart and can stand up for you,” he said. 

 

Parenting Your Aging Parents

What can you do if they refuse the help they obviously need?
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You can see that your parents are having difficulties, perhaps even running risks they shouldn’t, but they’re quite sure they can manage. What can—and should—you do? Writing for Kaiser Health News (KHN), journalist Judith Graham consults some experts for advice on a problem many families confront. Her article was posted on the KHN website on Dec. 19, 2019.

David Solie’s 89-year-old mother, Carol, was unyielding. “No, I will not move,” she told her son every time he suggested that she leave her home and relocate to a senior-living residence.

And it didn’t stop there. Although Carol suffered from coronary artery disease, severe osteoporosis, spinal compression fractures and unsteady balance, she didn’t want assistance. When Solie brought in aides to help after a bad fall and subsequent surgery, his mother fired them in a matter of days.

“In her mind, she considered it a disgrace to have anybody in her home,” Solie said. “This was her domain for over 50 years, a place where she did everything by herself and in her own way.”

Conflicts of this sort often threaten relationships between aging parents and their adult children just when understanding and support are needed the most. Instead of working together to solve problems, families find themselves feuding and riven by feelings of resentment and distress.

Solie got so worked up, he considered going to court and asking for a conservatorship—a legal arrangement that would have given him control over his mother’s affairs. (The situation was complicated because Solie’s brother, who has Down syndrome, lived at the family home.) But Solie’s lawyer advised that this course of action would destroy his relationship with his mother.

Ask your parents how they’d prefer to solve problems and what their priorities are. 

Today, Solie, a health care consultant and writer with a well-regarded blog about aging, sounds the same theme when he consults with adult children caring for parents. Make preserving trust and keeping your relationship intact—not winning arguments—a priority, he suggests. What your parents most need is confidence that you’ll listen to them, take their concerns seriously and stay by their side no matter what happens, he says.

How adult children communicate with parents can go a long way toward easing tensions, Solie says. Instead of telling your parents what to do, ask how they’d prefer to solve problems. Elicit their priorities and recognize their values when making suggestions. Give them choices whenever possible. Be attuned to their unexpressed needs and fears.

When Dr. Lee Lindquist, chief of geriatrics at Northwestern University’s Feinberg School of Medicine, asked 68 older adults in eight focus groups why they resisted help, the answers varied. They said they were afraid of losing their independence, becoming a burden on loved ones, being taken advantage of, and relinquishing control over their lives.

Asked what might make a difference, the older adults said they liked the idea of “interdependence”—acknowledging that people need one another from childhood to older age. And they found it helpful to think that “by accepting help, they were in turn helping the person providing the help,” according to Lindquist’s study, published last year in the Journal of the American Geriatrics Society.

Unfortunately, no amount of patience, compassion or forbearance will work in some conflict-ridden circumstances. But here’s some of what experts have learned:

Be patient. Give your parents time to adjust. At first, Jane Wolf Frances’ 87-year-old mother, Lillian Wolf, wouldn’t consider moving with Jane’s father from New York City to the Los Angeles area, where Frances, her only child, lived.

Although Lillian had Alzheimer’s disease, and Frances had planned to give her one-story house to her parents, “I deferred to my mother’s fear that she was going to be losing something essential,” she said.

During three years of caregiving, Frances had learned to not rush her parents. She knew they had slowed down and needed time to process change.

So Frances waited until her parent’s home health aide called with concerns about their ability to live independently. After discussing the situation with their physician, Frances approached her mother again. A move to assisted living would be a fresh start, allowing the family to spend more time together, she said. After several conversations, her mother finally agreed.

Frances, a psychologist, is the author of a new book, Parenting Our Parents: Transforming the Challenge into a Journey of Love, and founder of www.parentingourparents.org. Stay calm when disagreements arise with your elderly parents and tamp down your emotional reactions, she tells families. Listen carefully to your parents’ concerns and let them know you’re trying to help them accomplish their goals, not impose your agenda.

“It’s often helpful to say to your parents ‘I’m doing this for you; I’d like you to do something for me,’” Frances said. “People who are good parents perk up on that one and will ask, ‘OK, what can I do for you?’ Then you can tell them, ‘You can let me help you more.’”

Let them know you’re on their side. Denise Brown was convinced her parents, Roger and Sally Loeffler, were making a terrible decision. In the previous year, Roger, 84, had been diagnosed with bladder and prostate cancer and undergone extensive surgery. Sally, 81, had suffered three internal bleeds and had one-third of her stomach removed.

Brown didn’t think they could live on their own anymore, and her parents had moved into a retirement community upon her recommendation. But then, at a family meeting, her mother stood up and said, “I’m not dying in this dump. I hate it here.” As Brown and her siblings turned to their father, he said, “I’ll do whatever your mom wants.”

When her parents decided to move to an apartment, Brown was confrontational. “I raised my voice and said, ‘This is not good, this is terrible,’” she said. “They were shocked, but they said ‘It doesn’t matter; this is what we’re going to do.’”

As Brown thought about her reaction, she realized she thought her parents would be safer and have a more “gentle” death in the retirement community. “Then it occurred to me—this wasn’t what my parents wanted. They valued their independence. It’s their decision about how the end of life plays out.”

It doesn’t work to try to communicate when your parents are tired or angry. 

Brown let her parents know she’d respect their wishes but would need to set limits. Her work—Brown is the founder of www.CareGiving.com—had to be a priority, and her parents would need to arrange other assistance if she couldn’t be available. (Brown’s two brothers and sister help out.) And they’d have to be willing to talk openly about how their choices were affecting her.

What doesn’t work: trying to communicate when any one of them is tired or angry. “We never get anywhere,” Brown said. “Everybody gets defensive and shuts down.”

What does work: “Asking them questions like how do you think we should try to solve this problem? It’s interesting to hear their answers, and it makes working together so much easier.”

Stop expecting your parents to be as they used to be. After her father’s death, Loi Eberle was distraught when her mother, Lucille Miller, became involved with a man she and her siblings didn’t like. With his encouragement, Miller invested in real estate and lost a great deal of money.

But nothing Eberle or her siblings said could convince her mother that this relationship was destructive.

Eberle struggled with resentment and anger as her mother’s needs escalated after a heart attack and a diagnosis of myasthenia gravis, a severe neurological disease. “Mom and I had this love/hate relationship all my life, and there was a huge need for healing in this relationship,” she said.

In 2012, Eberle moved Miller, then 89, from her longtime home in Minneapolis to a nursing home in northern Idaho, near where Eberle lives. Gradually, she realized that her mother “had transitioned to being someone else”—someone who was vulnerable and at her life’s end.

“I think for a long time I had this idea that I was going to help Mom come back to who she was, and I spent a lot of time trying to do that,” Eberle said. “I finally had to forgive myself for failure and understand that this is the life process.”

With this shift in perspective, emotional tension dissipated. “When I’d visit, my mother was always so happy to see me,” Eberle said. Miller died in March 2017 at age 94.

Letting go of unrealistic expectations can defuse conflicts. This is the final stage of your journey with your parents. Try to put angst to one side and help make this time meaningful for them and for you. Most of all, your parents want to feel emotionally connected and accepted, even in a diminished state.

 

Write Your Own Obituary

It’s a chance to sum up your legacy and have the very last word
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When Susan deLarios’s mother passed away, she had to scramble to finish the obituary before the funeral. By contrast, when her father died a few years earlier, his obituary was already done—he had written it himself. Given how much easier that made life for her, deLarios said, “Now I tell people: you need to write your obit.” 

A growing number of people are doing just that: they’re crafting their own obituaries as a gift to their families and as a way of having the last say in summing up their lives. Some write them when death is imminent; others prepare them as an exercise in contemplating mortality. 

Whatever the motivation, writing your own obituary ensures the facts are correct, relieves your family of one of the more difficult tasks of the funeral arrangements and allows you to communicate key wishes, such as where friends and family should direct memorial donations.

Self-obits are part of a broader phenomenon: growing cultural acceptance of talking about death. The same “death positive” movement that has led people to gather in Death Cafes to talk about passing, or to read bestselling books like Atul Gawande’s Being Mortal (2015), is also encouraging people to prepare the last word on their own lives. 

While USA Today dubbed them “selfie obits,” self-obits are much more than narcissistic exercises, according to Frank Joseph, a rabbi serving four congregations in Texas. “A prewritten obit relieves a lot of stress for the family during a stressful time. And it ensures that the loved one is being remembered exactly for what they wanted to be remembered for.”

Having the Last Say

When journalist Ken Fuson passed away in early 2020, friends alerted his family that he’d likely written his own obituary. Fuson taught writing classes; his first assignment to students was to write their own obituaries. 

After cracking the passcode on Fuson’s computer, family members did indeed find an obituary written in Fuson’s distinctive, funny voice. The obit ticked off his many journalism awards, followed by a humorous crack: “No, he didn’t win a Pulitzer Prize, but he’s dead now, so get off his back.” Fuson’s son, Jesse, posted the obituary on Facebook—it was long and too costly to print in the Des Moines Register, where Fuson worked for years. The obit went viral. Major news outlets picked up the story. 

Don’t store your obit in a password-protected computer or a safe deposit box. 

“It was really awesome to read someone’s own thoughts on their life after they had died,” Jesse Fuson said. “You could see the humor shine through. It was just a great thing to be left with, not to mention the partial fame it created, which was hilarious in its own way. Dad would be rolling in his urn if he had known his obit was on Fox News.” 

Fuson’s story offers an important caveat: if you write your own obit, you must tell your family or friends that you did so and tell them how to access it. Don’t store it on a password-protected computer (unless you share that password) or in a safe deposit box, which may be sealed temporarily after death.

“Make sure you’ve told all of your children or other next of kin that you’ve done this,” advised Keely Gilham, a funeral director in Arlington, TX. “Make each of them a folder with all of your final wishes, including copies of the obit as well as other important docs, such as your will, preplanned funeral arrangements or life insurance policy.”

A Chance to Review

Fifteen years ago, Cindy Kyle sat down with a glass of wine and spent an evening completing an online form with her final wishes, including a section for her obituary. Although she was in her 40s at the time and in good health, it felt natural for a “dreadfully organized person” who keeps her affairs in order. She listed her family members and details of her schooling, work history, special interests and hobbies, and added words of gratitude for important people in her life.

Instead of being upsetting, she said, “I had a blast. It was a way of summarizing the joys and accomplishments of my life, to think about what’s important and what I want people to know about me.” 

Resources abound to help self-obit writers get started. ObitKit: A Guide to Celebrating Your Life (2009) by Susan Soper is a workbook for recording important facts and life events as well as end-of-life wishes. Legacy.com, an online publisher of obits, offers an extensive archive of articles on crafting an obituary, as well as a compilation of examples of auto-obits. Websites for end-of-life planning, such as Everplans.com, provide places to upload and store an obit (along with other key documents) as well as checklists of information to consider for inclusion. 

Most obituaries typically include basic information such as the deceased’s surviving family members, religious and organizational affiliations, career and other accomplishments, as well as details on the funeral. Checklists, templates and step-by-step guides abound online. But keep in mind that there’s nothing that dictates what a self-obit writer must include. (Consider the humorous, two-word self-obit of 85-year-old Douglas Legler: “Doug Died.”)

It’s not a resume. It’s a representation of how you lived.

— Alan Gelb

Writing your obituary can serve as a memento mori—practice for confronting your mortality and taking stock. For some, it spurs positive life corrections, said Joseph, the rabbi. He cited the example of Alfred Nobel, the inventor of dynamite. After reading his own obituary (published in error), which called him a “merchant of death,” Nobel bequeathed his fortune to institute the Nobel Prize. As he hoped, he’s now remembered for the Nobel Peace Prize, rather than for his invention. 

A life-review writing exercise benefits people at any age, said Alan Gelb, author of Having the Last Say, Capturing Your Legacy in One Small Story (2015.) After observing how high school students benefited from writing college application essays, he created prompts for similar writing exercises for older people, which he dubbed “Last Says.” 

To maximize readership and create an interesting tale, Gelb encourages writers of self-obits to look for a narrative arc and to lead off with a statement that captures their essence. 

“Don’t try to tell your entire life story or get hung up on having to cover everything,” he said. “It’s not a resume. It’s a representation of how you lived.” 

An obituary can be funny or serious, short or long, factual or more contemplative. Joan Calhoun’s in-laws wrote their own obits, which were published when they passed away just seven days apart. Her mother-in-law’s obit was short and sweet; her father-in-law’s was lengthy and full of details. Each reflected their respective personalities. 

“That was them,” Calhoun said. “That’s how they were. She was quiet; he was a storyteller who never met a stranger. I just think that [writing one’s obit] is a wonderful thing to do.”

Considering the Cost

In her self-written obituary, comic writer Jane Lotter quipped, “I’d tell a few jokes, but they charge for these listings by the column inch.” Generally, prewritten obituaries won’t save families money. For one thing, many funeral homes will prepare a basic obit (based on information the family provides) as part of the overall cost of the funeral package; others may charge a nominal fee. 

The biggest cost is publishing the obit, and often there’s sticker shock. Newspapers typically charge per word or per line; a short obituary can easily run $200-$600 in a major market paper, whereas a long one can cost upward of $1,000. A photo adds to the cost. 

Note that newspaper editors distinguish obituaries written by a reporter (typically for locally prominent people) from the paid write-ups provided by the deceased’s family or a funeral home. While newspapers publish reporter-written obituaries at no charge, families usually have no control over what’s included in the final story.  

Some newspapers and funeral homes post obituaries online for a nominal fee ($50-$100) regardless of length. If budgets are limited, Gilham advises families to publish a brief obit in the newspaper’s print edition, with basic facts and funeral arrangements, and a longer version online. Bottom line: keep in mind that a long obit could be costly. 

Taking Control

Toward the end of his life, Reid Coleman worried that family conflict would arise over the planning of his funeral and obituary, given one relative’s tendency toward intrusiveness. To pre-empt that, he wrote his own obituary and planned his funeral in detail. It worked—his wife, Kate Coleman, was able to execute his wishes and fend off potential meddling. 

However, Coleman trusted his wife to see things through on his behalf. If you don’t have a reliable next of kin who will follow your wishes, you should enlist legal advice if it’s imperative to have your self-obit published as is. Laws vary by state; in some states it may be possible to appoint an agent to handle funeral and burial details, including the obituary. 

Don’t include your obituary in your will, because it may not be discovered until it’s too late. Funerals (and the publication of an obituary) generally take place immediately after death and before an executor takes control of the deceased’s estate. 

But keep in mind that total control isn’t always a positive. Because most people don’t always see themselves as fully as others do, a self-written obit may be limited. 

That’s one slight regret that Kate Coleman has about her husband’s self-obit: he didn’t brag about himself enough. He didn’t share how he devoted the latter half of his career to reducing medical errors. The obit chronicled his career but failed to mention that he developed a hospital bracelet that uses scannable codes to prevent mistakes. 

“He was a ‘just the facts’ guy and the obit reflected that,” she said. “But I got cards from his colleagues talking about his accomplishments and how meaningful they were.” 

Looking back, deLarios often thinks of things she wishes she’d included in her mother’s obituary but overlooked due to lack of time. But she’s certain her father’s obit included everything important to him, including details about his military service and his involvement in the Masons. 

“That floored me,” she said. “I would’ve never thought of putting that in his obit. Reading his words after he was gone, and seeing what he considered was important, was very profound.”

Health Care Costs: Want an Estimate? Good Luck with That

But there are ways to avoid unpleasant surprises and to lower costs
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When Linda Stallard Johnson’s husband had pain in his shoulder, he suspected he might be having a heart attack. His sister had just had one, with similar symptoms. The couple went to a hospital emergency room, where he underwent an EKG, blood tests, a chest X-ray and a second EKG—all, normal. As a precaution, the physician on duty wanted to admit him for a stress test the next morning. But when the couple asked how much an overnight stay might cost, nobody had an answer.

“We even called the billing office and they sent a staff person down to the room, who could not provide us with any information,” Johnson said. 

Unsure what Medicare covered and fearful the bill might prove financially crippling, the couple left the hospital, despite the doctor’s warnings. They were on edge until he finally took the stress test several days later at an outpatient clinic—also, normal. 

The Johnsons’ experience mirrors a problem faced by many Americans: a frustrating lack of transparency in the pricing of medical services and procedures.

Health care costs are not only sky-high, they’re unpredictable. There’s a wide disparity in what hospitals charge, even for routine procedures, and pricing is anything but transparent. Patients who ask for price estimates in advance often get nowhere. Insured patients must navigate a complex array of pitfalls: finding in-network providers, avoiding hidden costs or services that aren’t covered, minimizing out-of-pocket costs. Even those with good insurance may be slammed with “balance bills”—charges for services from out-of-network providers that can run into tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars. Those without insurance can easily end up bankrupt after a single trip to the hospital. 

Faced with disease, we are all potential victims of medical extortion.

— Elisabeth Rosenthal, MD

Rosemary Hinojosa, 68, ran into that problem several years ago when she fell and injured her back while visiting relatives in another city.  She was transported to the nearest hospital, which was out of network for her employer-provided health insurance plan. When she received an $87,000 bill, the insurer refused to pay, arguing that she was responsible for the bill because she didn’t choose an in-network provider.  

“Faced with disease, we are all potential victims of medical extortion,” wrote Elisabeth Rosenthal, MD, in An American Sickness: How Healthcare Became Big Business and How You Can Take It Back (2018).

Older adults are particularly vulnerable. Compared to younger people, they tend to need more medical care, the cost of which represents a larger portion of their overall cost of living. Many live on a fixed income and can’t manage unexpected medical bills or exorbitant drug prices. Those who are near retirement may not be able to bounce back from a big bill. And while insurance and medical billing are confusing for people of any age, they can be even more so for an older person who’s not tech savvy, or who’s dealing with memory loss, hearing loss or other disabilities or who’s reluctant to question a doctor’s authority. 

This lack of transparency in health care costs “places an unfair burden on everybody, but it’s especially difficult for older Americans,” said Cindi Gatton of Pathfinder Patient Advocacy Group, which helps patients navigate health care and medical billing. 

Perhaps the most vulnerable are those ages 50 to 64 who lost their insurance through loss of a job and can’t afford to purchase a plan, according to Lynda Ender, AGE director with the Senior Source in Dallas. Ditto for those 65 and up who don’t qualify for Medicare—for example, immigrants who have no work history in the United States or who are not citizens. 

How We Got Here

How do medical providers get away with this? 

For one thing, insurance has traditionally insulated patients from pricing. Insurance paid the bill; patients often weren’t even aware of the amount paid. 

Aside from Medicare, which sets rates for each treatment and procedure, there’s no regulation that requires doctors and hospitals to keep pricing reasonable or to disclose prices before sending the bill. 

“We always have the right to ask, but there are no laws requiring anyone to give you a price in advance,” said Gatton. 

The pricing system that has evolved in hospitals is so complex, arbitrary and labyrinthine that it’s almost unknowable. Hospitals don’t price procedures based on the actual costs to deliver them; some hospital administrators aren’t even aware of what those costs are. Instead, hospitals have traditionally set prices based on what the market will bear—while keeping pricing data a closely guarded trade secret. Hospitals maintain a retail price list called the chargemaster but, like “sticker” prices on new cars, almost no one actually pays those prices. Insurance companies negotiate lower prices. Often, uninsured patients can negotiate lower prices too, but many don’t know that. 

Imagine if you paid for an airplane ticket and then got separate and inscrutable bills from the airline, the pilot, the copilot, and the flight attendants

— Elisabeth Rosenthal, MD

Many physicians stay out of the billing process and as a result are unaware of the costs of tests they routinely prescribe or whether they’re in-network or out-of-network for their patients. 

Sometimes, providers simply can’t predict an exact price, only a price range. For example, a gastroenterologist might charge a standard price for a routine screening colonoscopy, but if polyps are discovered during the surgery, the procedure becomes a diagnostic colonoscopy, which commands a higher price. 

Finally, billing is piecemeal. Surgeons may know how much they charge for a specific procedure but have no idea what a typical patient ends up paying after charges are added for the anesthesiologist, the hospital facility fee and any blood work, supplies and medications. 

“Imagine if you paid for an airplane ticket and then got separate and inscrutable bills from the airline, the pilot, the copilot, and the flight attendants,” wrote Rosenthal. “That’s how the healthcare market works.” 

What’s the Solution?

Likely it’ll take a major, federally mandated overhaul of the medical system to fix this problem, but that’s unlikely, given that the medical and pharmaceutical lobbies dwarf the defense lobby. President Trump has instructed federal agencies to develop rules requiring disclosure of hospital prices in consumer-friendly, electronic form, including “list prices” as well as the discounted prices that hospitals negotiate with insurers. However, the rollout is still likely years away and is already facing challenges in court.

Some efforts are underway at the state level to improve transparency and protect consumers. New Hampshire, for example, provides an online database of quality and cost, searchable by procedure and for individual doctors and clinics, which are required to provide the information. In Texas, the legislature passed a law (SB 1264) aimed at providing relief to those slapped with balance bills—surprise medical bills that fall on patients when they have (often unknowingly) seen out-of-network providers. 

Patients can take steps to minimize their out-of-pocket expenses. However, the strategy depends on whether the patient has private insurance, Medicare or no insurance at all. 

For those covered by Medicare, price shopping generally won’t save money. Medicare sets rates for services and, in most cases, forbids providers from billing patients for additional charges. 

Uninsured patients can sometimes negotiate a lower price in advance, especially if they pay up front in cash.

For those with employer-paid or individual private insurance, price shopping becomes complicated. The objective isn’t necessarily to find the lowest price; it’s to find the provider who can provide the service at the lowest out-of-pocket cost. Typically, that means calling the insurance company (or consulting its website) to locate a doctor or hospital that’s in network, in which case the insurer will cover all, or a higher percentage, of the cost. 

Keep in mind too that even if patients choose an in-network physician and an in-network hospital, they may still see providers (such as an anesthesiologist) who are out of network, who may then charge them at the retail rate. 

For those with no insurance, price shopping is critical. Uninsured hospital patients not only get stuck paying the bills out of pocket, they’re more likely to get billed those “sticker” prices. On the other hand, it’s often easier for uninsured patients to negotiate a “cash” price in advance, especially if the patient pays up front. Also, some urgent care centers, such as CareNow, pledge to provide prices up front (usually after the patient is evaluated but before treatment begins). Cash prices aren’t cheap but are usually closer to what large insurers pay. Providers are more willing to do this with cash-paying customers, in part because they avoid the cost and hassle of obtaining reimbursement from insurers.

For those who can’t afford insurance and can’t pay cash prices, there are few good options. Many must rely on county hospitals that accept patients regardless of ability to pay. Patients with low incomes and few assets may qualify for Medicaid; states provide this coverage and requirements vary.

How to Price-Shop 

When she fell and injured her hand, Sheryl Monnier decided to call to check the price at a nearby urgent care center before going in for an X-ray. The first person she spoke to refused to provide a price. She called again, waited on hold, got transferred to a supervisor and finally got a number: $111. 

While her insurer may cover all or part of that cost, Monnier thinks it’s important for patients to insist on getting prices in advance.

“I know that the charges my insurance company pays are simply passed along as higher premiums,” she said. If more consumers insist on prices in advance, “market pressure will encourage medical businesses to make the info easily available so consumers can make wise choices.” 

But as Monnier’s experience shows, price shopping takes persistence and patience. Those who wish to price-shop a procedure can start at HealthCareBlueBook.com to get a ballpark price range for their local zip code, then call the provider’s office. The process takes persistence. If the office person says, “I don’t know,” for example, the patient may need to ask, “Who does?” 

Getting a price may also require multiple calls. “Very often, you need to talk to more than one vendor to get the whole cost of a treatment,” said Linda Beck, who provides elder and health-care advocacy. “If you need knee surgery, for example, you’ll need to get estimates from the surgeon, the anesthesiologist, the radiologist and the facility.” 

The biggest challenge for avoiding unexpected costs occurs when the patient becomes sick or injured and starts treatment. Then, it’s up to the patient to ask each provider whether he or she is in network. Even if the hospital is in network, many physicians, radiologists and other providers are contractors who may not be in that hospital’s network. 

When you’re in the hospital, keep track of every service, test and medication you receive. Errors in billing are astonishingly common.

“There may not be much you can do to avoid out-of-network care if you’re in the emergency room, because there may be no in-network providers available, but at least you’ll know the bills are coming,” Beck said.

While in the hospital, experts advise, patients should keep track of every service, test and medication received, to help later identify any charges that don’t belong on the bill. “An astonishing percentage of bills have errors,” said Beck. 

But keeping tabs on medical care isn’t easy for someone like Sophia Dembling, 61, who has undergone almost a year of treatment for amyloidosis, a rare, systemic disease—treatment including chemotherapy and a stem-cell transplant. It’s challenging enough to stay on top of her medications and doctor appointments while managing fatigue, nausea and other side effects. 

“I’m sure I should be more vigilant, but it just makes me tired,” she said. 

On top of that, Dembling occasionally receives big bills that providers claim she’s responsible for, even though she has met her maximum out of pocket and deductibles for the year. So far, she’s been able to sort them out, but only after hours on the phone with providers’ billing offices. The hassle isn’t helping her heal. 

“It’s stress on top of stress,” she said.

Finally, for patients who are slapped with a big bill, there’s almost always room to negotiate. Consider enlisting a health advocate, who can help negotiate a big medical bill, for a fee. (Some charge by the hour; others charge a percentage of the money saved.) AdvoConnection.com provides listings of certified advocates based on location.

Those with employer-provided insurance can enlist help from their human resources department. That’s what Hinojosa did after getting that $87,000 bill for the out-of-network emergency surgery and hospital stay. With help from her employer’s medical-benefits office, Hinojosa appealed the bill, arguing that she had to opt for out-of-network care, given the urgency of her injury. It took some effort, but she eventually prevailed.

“I won all the appeals that I had and ended up paying only $100,” she said. 

Is Suicide Ever Simply a Rational Choice?

Some older people are discussing that—in secret
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Is suicide a rational response when people just want to control when and how they die, or when they’re facing future health problems, like dementia, that they fear will be intolerable? And should that kind of suicide be legalized? In this article written for Kaiser Health News, KHN correspondent Melissa Bailey explores both sides of these questions. Her story ran on the KHN website on June 25, 2019, and was also posted on the Washington Post.

Ten residents slipped away from their retirement community one Sunday afternoon for a covert meeting in a grocery store cafe. They aimed to answer a taboo question: When they feel they have lived long enough, how can they carry out their own swift and peaceful death?

The seniors, who live in independent apartments at a high-end senior community near Philadelphia, showed no obvious signs of depression. They’re in their 70s and 80s and say they don’t intend to end their lives soon. But they say they want the option to take “preemptive action” before their health declines in their later years, particularly due to dementia.

More seniors are weighing the possibility of suicide, experts say, as the baby boomer generation—known for valuing autonomy and self-determination—reaches older age at a time when modern medicine can keep human bodies alive far longer than ever before.

The group gathered a few months ago to meet with Dena Davis, a bioethics professor at Lehigh University who defends “rational suicide”—the idea that suicide can be a well-reasoned decision, not a result of emotional or psychological problems. Davis, 72, has been vocal about her desire to end her life rather than experience a slow decline due to dementia, as her mother did.

The concept of rational suicide is highly controversial; it runs counter to many societal norms, religious and moral convictions and the efforts of suicide prevention workers who contend that every life is worth saving.

“The concern that I have at a social level is if we all agree that killing yourself is an acceptable, appropriate way to go, then there becomes a social norm around that, and it becomes easier to do, more common,” said Dr. Yeates Conwell, a psychiatrist specializing in geriatrics at the University of Rochester and a leading expert in … suicide. That’s particularly dangerous with older adults because of widespread ageist attitudes, he said.

As a society, we have a responsibility to care for people as they age, Conwell argued. Promoting rational suicide “creates the risk of a sense of obligation for older people to use that method rather than advocate for better care that addresses their concerns in other ways.”

A Kaiser Health News investigation in April found that older Americans—a few hundred per year, at least—are killing themselves while living in or transitioning to long term care. Many cases KHN reviewed involved depression or mental illness. What’s not clear is how many of these suicides involve clear-minded people exercising what Davis would call a rational choice.

Suicide prevention experts contend that while it’s normal to think about death as we age, suicidal ideation is a sign that people need help. They argue that all suicides should be avoided by addressing mental health and helping seniors live a rich and fulfilling life.

Some people are determined to choose the way they die, but then they become too confused to follow through. 

But to Lois, the 86-year-old woman who organized the meeting outside Philadelphia, suicides by older Americans are not all tragedies. Lois, a widow with no children, said she would rather end her own life than deteriorate slowly over seven years, as her mother did after she broke a hip at age 90. (Lois asked to be referred to by only her middle name so she would not be identified, given the sensitive topic.) In her eight years at her retirement community, Lois has encountered other residents who feel similarly about suicide. But because of stigma, she said, the conversations are usually kept quiet.

Lois insisted her group meet off-campus at Wegmans because of the “subversive” nature of the discussion. Supporting rational suicide, she said, clashes with the ethos of their continuing care retirement community, where seniors transition from independent apartments to assisted living to a nursing home as they age.

Seniors pay six figures to move into the bucolic campus, which includes an indoor heated pool, a concert hall and many acres of wooded trails. They are guaranteed housing, medical care, companionship and comfort for the rest of their lives.

“We are sabotaging that,” Lois said of her group. “We are saying, thank you very much, but that’s not what we’re looking for.”

Carolyn, a 72-year-old member of the group who asked that her last name be withheld, said they live in a “fabulous place” where residents enjoy “a lot of agency.” But she and her 88-year-old husband also want the freedom to determine how they die.

A retired nurse, Carolyn said her views have been shaped in part by her experience in the HIV/AIDS epidemic. In the 1990s, she created a program that sent hospice volunteers to work with people dying of AIDS, which at the time was a death sentence.

She said many of the men kept a stockpile of lethal drugs on a dresser or bedside table. They would tell her, “When I’m ready, that’s what I’m going to do.” But as their condition grew worse, she said, they became too confused to follow through.

“I just saw so many people who were planning to have that quiet, peaceful ending when it came, and it just never came. The pills just got scattered. They lost the moment” when they had the wherewithal to end their own lives, she said.

Carolyn emphasized that she and her husband do not feel suicidal, nor do they have a specific plan to die on a certain date. But she said that while she still has the ability, she wants to procure a lethal medication that would offer the option for a peaceful end in the future.

One school of thought is that even mentioning that [suicide] could be rational is an ageist concept. It’s an important point to consider.

—Meera Balasubramaniam, MD

“Ideally, I would have in hand the pill, or the liquid or the injection,” she said. She said she’s embarrassed that, as a former nurse, she doesn’t know which medication to use or how to get it.

Maine recently became the ninth state to allow medical aid in dying, which permits some patients to get a doctor’s prescription for lethal drugs. That method is restricted, however, to people with a terminal condition who are mentally competent and expected to die within six months.

Patients who aren’t eligible for those laws would have to go to an “underground practice” to get lethal medication, said Dr. Timothy Quill, a palliative care physician at the University of Rochester School of Medicine. Quill became famous in the 1990s for publicly admitting that he gave a 45-year-old patient with leukemia sleeping pills so she could end her life. He said he has done so with only one other patient.

Quill said he considers suicide one option he may choose as he ages. “I would probably be a classic [case]—I’m used to being in charge of my life.” He said he might be able to adapt to a situation in which he became entirely dependent on the care of others, “but I’d like to be able to make that be a choice as opposed to a necessity.”

Suicide could be as rational a choice as a patient’s decision to end dialysis, after which the patient typically dies within two weeks, he said. But when patients bring up suicide, he said, it should launch a serious conversation about what would make their life feel meaningful and their preferences for medical care at the end of life.

Clinicians have little training on how to handle conversations about rational suicide, said Dr. Meera Balasubramaniam, a geriatric psychiatrist at the New York University School of Medicine who has written about the topic. She said her views are “evolving” on whether suicide by older adults who are not terminally ill can be a rational choice.

“One school of thought is that even mentioning the idea that this could be rational is an ageist concept,” she said. “It’s an important point to consider. But ignoring it and not talking about it also does not do our patients a favor, who are already talking about this or discussing this among themselves.”

In her discussions with patients, she said, she explores their fears about aging and dying and tries to offer hope and affirm the value of their lives.

These conversations matter because “the balance between the wish to die and the wish to live is a dynamic one that shifts frequently, moment to moment, week to week,” said Conwell, the suicide prevention expert.

People who attempt suicide and survive may end up confined in a psychiatric hospital, which is the opposite of what they’re trying to achieve.

Carolyn, who has three children and four grandchildren, said conversations about suicide are often kept quiet for fear that involving a family member would implicate them in a crime. The seniors also don’t want to get their retirement community in trouble.

In some of the cases KHN reviewed, nursing homes have faced federal fines of up to tens of thousands of dollars for failing to prevent suicides on-site.

There’s “also just this hush-hush atmosphere of our culture,” said Carolyn. “Not wanting to deal with judgment—of others, or offend someone because they have different beliefs. It makes it hard to have open conversations.”

Carolyn said when she and her neighbors met at the cafe, she felt comforted by breaking the taboo.

“The most wonderful thing about it was being around a table with people that I knew where we could talk about it and realize that we’re not alone,” Carolyn said. “To share our fears—like if we choose to use something, and it doesn’t quite do the job, and you’re comatose or impaired.”

People who attempt suicide and survive may end up in a psychiatric hospital “with people watching you all the time—the complete opposite of what you’re trying to achieve,” Quill noted.

At the meeting, many questions were practical, Lois said.

“We only get one crack at it,” Lois said. “Everyone wants to know what to do.”

Davis said she did not have practical answers. Her expertise lies in ethics, not the means.

Public opinion research has shown shifting opinions among doctors and the general public about hastening death. Nationally, 72 percent of Americans believe doctors should be allowed by law to end a terminally ill patient’s life if the patient and his or her family request it, according to a 2018 Gallup poll.

Lois said she’s seeing societal attitudes begin to shift about rational suicide, which she sees as the outgrowth of a movement toward patient autonomy. Davis said she’d like to see polling on how many people share that opinion nationwide.

“It seems to me that there must be an awful lot of people in America who think the way I do,” Davis said. “Our beliefs are not respected. Nobody says, ‘OK, how do we respect and facilitate the beliefs of somebody who wants to commit suicide rather than having dementia?’”

If you or someone you know has talked about contemplating suicide, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or use the online Lifeline Crisis Chat, both available 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

People 60 and older can call the Institute on Aging’s 24-hour, toll-free Friendship Line at 800-971-0016. IOA also makes ongoing outreach calls to lonely older adults.

The True Cost of Growing Old in America

The Elder Index reveals what older people spend, just to meet their basic needs and age in place
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Jan Mutchler, PhD—one of the creators of the index—explains here what it is and why it’s so important, both for those deciding public policy and for individuals planning for retirement. The index provides a realistic look at what older people all over the country actually need to spend to get by without help from family, charities or the government. The Silver Century Foundation has been a longtime supporter of the Elder Index. Mutchler is the director of the Center for Social and Demographic Research on Aging in the Gerontology Institute at the University of Massachusetts. Her article appeared first at The Conversation on Dec. 5, 2019.   

The US population is aging at such a rate that within a few years, older Americans will outnumber the country’s children for the first time, according to census projections. But rising rents, health care and other living costs mean that for many entering their retirement years, balancing the household budget can be a struggle.

To get a better understanding of how much of a struggle, a team at the University of Massachusetts Boston established a benchmark against which to measure the financial security of Americans aged 65 and over. 

Jan Mutchler, PhD, is professor of gerontology and director of the Center for Social and Demographic Research on Aging in the Gerontology Institute at the University of Massachusetts.

What is the Elder Index?

Jan Mutchler: The Elder Index is a measure looking at how much income is needed for older people to maintain independence and meet their daily living costs while staying in their own homes. It is based on the bare-bones budgets of singles and couples aged 65 or over. For 2019, we found that the average income needed by an older individual in rental housing to meet all basic needs was $25,416, and for a couple in rental housing, it was $36,204. The index breaks this figure down, county by county.

Why did you create it?

Mutchler: The brainchild of researchers at the Gerontology Institute at the University of Massachusetts Boston, including myself, the index was created to provide a realistic benchmark for what it costs older people to get by and remain independent. It can help guide and support the development of policies meant to promote the well-being of older adults, and also serve as a financial planning tool for older people and their families, to help alleviate economic insecurity.

How does economic insecurity differ from poverty?

Mutchler: The federal poverty line is widely used to summarize hardship and insecurity, but we know that the benchmark is way below what an adequate lifestyle requires. The Elder Index defines economic security as the income level at which older people can cover basic and necessary living expenses without relying on loans, gifts or income support programs like food subsidies and housing assistance. It is also uniquely focused on thresholds specific to older adults’ expenses.

What are the major living costs faced by older Americans?

Mutchler: Housing and health care top the list. Medical bills, in particular, can be very expensive, especially as people move into their 70s and 80s and encounter chronic conditions that require ongoing treatment and medications. For couples, health care is especially costly—there is no family plan for Medicare, meaning couples pay twice the individual rate. Social Security plays a critical role in meeting these costs. 

Many older people also draw on pensions, savings or other assets to pay the bills or continue to work into later life, at least on a part-time basis. But even so, a significant number of older Americans are forced to make ends meet by holding back on the health care they need, going into debt or using other strategies that do not support health and well-being.

How big a problem is economic insecurity among the elderly?

Mutchler: Our research shows that in 2019, half of older Americans living on their own lacked the income needed to pay for their basic needs, as did 23 percent of couples. Taken together, we estimate that more than 10 million people aged 65 or older and living independently have incomes below the Elder Index. In short, it is a big problem.

Who are most financially vulnerable among Americans over 65?

Mutchler: Older people in regions with low average incomes, such as in Mississippi and Louisiana, are vulnerable. But there is also a problem in more affluent areas that have seen jumps in the cost of living and housing, such as in parts of Massachusetts and Vermont, and notably in the San Francisco area. 

Older people who live alone also tend to be at higher risk. To some extent, this just reflects economies of scale in their household budgets. But people living alone are also more likely to be women and are older, on average, which would also put them at a higher risk. 

It is important to note that the vulnerability seen in later life is a reflection of lifelong disparities in the ability to earn an adequate wage, accumulate Social Security credits and save for retirement. For these reasons, women and older people of color both are more likely to be at risk.

What measures can be taken to better support older Americans?

Mutchler: Any effort has to include protecting and enhancing our Social Security system, as many older people rely on it for most or all of their income. Likewise, Medicare, which forms the basis for receiving medical care for nearly all older Americans. Meanwhile, subsidies and benefits targeting low-income older people can really help. But these programs need to be widened, as typically the only people eligible are at or very near poverty levels, rather than being economically insecure. 

Communities, too, need to better promote economic security through affordable senior housing and making sure older residents receive the benefits available to them. Finally, we really need more conversations about what the true cost of retirement living is and how people can plan for that. At present, people are not adequately informed. As a result, too many people enter retirement without financial security.

 

Has Your Doctor Asked You about Climate Change?

Many medical societies consider it a health emergency
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Climate change is exacerbating health problems for many patients, but some doctors hesitate to mention it. Martha Bebinger digs into the topic in a story produced as part of a partnership that includes Boston public radio station WBUR, NPR and Kaiser Health News (KHN). Bebinger’s article was posted on the KHN website on July 19, 2019.

When Michael Howard arrived for a checkup with his lung specialist, he was worried about how his body would cope with the heat and humidity of a Boston summer.

“I lived in Florida for 14 years, and I moved back because the humidity was just too much,” Howard told pulmonologist Mary Rice, MD, as he settled into an exam room chair at a Beth Israel Deaconess HealthCare clinic.

Howard, 57, has chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), a progressive lung disease that can be exacerbated by heat and humidity. Even inside a comfortable, climate-controlled room, his oxygen levels worried Rice.

Howard reluctantly agreed to try using portable oxygen, resigned to wearing the clear plastic tubes looped over his ears and inserted into his nostrils. He assured Rice he has an air conditioner and will stay inside on extremely hot days. The doctor and patient agreed that Howard should take his walks in the evenings to be sure he gets enough exercise without overheating.

Then Howard turned to Rice with a question she didn’t encounter in medical school: “Can I ask you: Last summer, why was it so hot?”

Rice, who studies air pollution, was ready.

“The overall trend of the hotter summers that we’re seeing [is] due to climate change,” Rice said.

For Rice, connecting climate-change consequences—heat waves, more pollen, longer allergy seasons—to her patients’ health is becoming routine. She is among a small but growing number of doctors and nurses who discuss those connections with patients.

In June, the American Medical Association, American Academy of Pediatrics and American Heart Association were among a long list of medical and public health groups that issued a call to action, asking the US government, business and leaders to recognize climate change as a health emergency.

The World Health Organization calls climate change “the greatest health challenge of the 21st century,” and a dozen US medical societies urge action to limit global warming.

It feels like once [the allergy season] starts in the springtime, it doesn’t end until there’s a killing frost. 

—Mary Heafy

Some medical societies provide patients with information that explains the related health risks. But none have guidelines on how providers should talk to patients about climate change.

There is no concrete list of “do’s”—as in wear a seat belt, use sunscreen and get exercise—or “don’ts”—as in don’t smoke, don’t drink too much and don’t text while driving—that doctors can talk about with patients.

Climate change is different, said Rice, because an individual patient can’t prevent it. So Rice focuses on steps her patients can take to cope with the consequences of heat waves, such as more potent pollen and a longer allergy season.

That was Mary Heafy’s main complaint. The 64-year-old has asthma that is worse during the allergy season. During her appointment with Rice, Heafy wanted to know why her eyes and nose were running and her chest feels tight for longer periods every year.

“It feels like once [the allergy season] starts in the springtime, it doesn’t end until there’s a killing frost,” Heafy told Rice.

“Yes,” Rice nodded, “because of global warming, the plants are flowering earlier in the spring. After hot summers, the trees are releasing more pollen the following season.”

So Heafy may need stronger medicines and more air filters, her doctor said, and may spend more days wearing a mask–although the effort of breathing through a mask is hard on her lungs as well.

As she and the doctor finalized a prescription plan, Heafy observed that “physicians talk about things like smoking, but I don’t know that every physician talks about the environmental impact.”

Why do so few doctors talk about the impact of the environment on health? Besides a lack of guidelines, doctors say, they don’t have time during a 15- to 20-minute visit to broach something as complicated as climate change.

And the topic can be controversial: while a recent Pew Research Center poll found that 59 percent of Americans think climate change affects their local community “a great deal or some,” only 31% say it affects them personally, and views vary widely by political party.

I have to be honest about the science and the threat that is there, and it is quite alarming.

—Gaurab Basu, MD

We contacted energy-industry trade groups to ask what role—if any—medical providers should have in the climate-change conversation, but neither the American Petroleum Institute nor the American Fuel & Petrochemical Manufacturers returned calls or email requests for comment.

Some doctors say they worry about challenging a patient’s beliefs on the sometimes fraught topic, according to Nitin Damle, MD, a past president of the American College of Physicians.

“It’s a difficult conversation to have,” said Damle, who practices internal medicine in Wakefield, RI.

Damle said he “takes the temperature” of patients, with some general questions about the environment or the weather, before deciding if he’ll suggest that climate change is affecting their health.

Gaurab Basu, MD, a primary care physician at Cambridge Health Alliance, said he’s ready if patients want to talk about climate change, but he doesn’t bring it up. He first must make sure patients feel safe in the exam room, he said, and raising a controversial political issue might erode that feeling.

“I have to be honest about the science and the threat that is there, and it is quite alarming,” Basu said.

So alarming, Basu said, that he often refers patients to counseling. Psychiatrists concerned about the effects of climate change on mental health say there are no standards of care in their profession yet, but some common responses are emerging.

One environmental group isn’t waiting for doctors and nurses to figure out how to talk to patients about climate change.

Molly Rauch, the public health policy director with Moms Clean Air Force, a project of the Environmental Defense Fund, urges the group’s more than 1 million members to ask doctors and nurses for guidance. For example: When should parents keep children indoors because the outdoor air is too dirty? 

“This isn’t too scary for us to hear about,” Rauch said. “We are hungry for information about this. We want to know.”

 

Researchers Seek Sage Advice of Elders on Aging Issues

Feedback from vulnerable older people shapes research projects
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In this article, journalist Judith Graham, a contributing columnist for Kaiser Health News (KHN), writes about the Bureau of Sages, a unique advisory board of elders, many of whom are ill, disabled or have early-stage dementia. Researchers consult them to find out what they need and ask about the best ways to involve older people in research, how to communicate with them effectively, and more. Graham’s article was posted on the KHN website on April 25, 2019.

CHICAGO — Rachel O’Conor booted up her slides and began posing questions to six older adults sitting around a table: How should primary care physicians support patients and caregivers after a diagnosis of dementia? And what stands in the way of getting adequate support?

“Please speak louder and go slower,” suggested Susanne Smith, a 75-year-old with early-stage Alzheimer’s disease.

Smith belongs to the Bureau of Sages, a group of vulnerable seniors who advise researchers about what matters to older adults, how to involve them in research about aging and how to communicate with them effectively while doing so. It’s a groundbreaking program: traditionally, ill, disabled and cognitively challenged older adults have been excluded from research and assumed to be too compromised to offer useful insights.

“The recognition that this population has something meaningful to contribute—that’s really unique,” said Robyn Stone, a former adviser to the Sages and senior vice president of research at LeadingAge, a national organization of nonprofit providers that focus on aging.

Everyone who works with older adults would do well to pay attention.

Sages groups are housed at several locations. At the Lieberman Center for Health and Rehabilitation, a nursing home in Skokie, a Chicago suburb, nearly a dozen residents meet every two weeks to discuss academic studies, issues they encounter in their daily lives and potential research projects. A similarly sized group of frail, homebound seniors in Chicago’s northern suburbs gets together virtually, via the internet.

At Northwestern University’s downtown medical campus, seven adults with dementia gather every couple of months at the Mesulam Center for Cognitive Neurology and Alzheimer’s Disease to offer feedback to researchers.

On this sunny day in mid-April, Jim Butler, 70, acknowledged it took him 18 months to accept a diagnosis of mild cognitive impairment and speak openly about it. Karen Finesilver, 68, who has Lewy body dementia, stressed the importance of bringing someone along to doctors’ appointments. “When I hear something that makes me nervous, I don’t retain it,” she explained. And Smith spoke of how important it is to feel heard by her physician: “One of the best things is when he actually listens to what I’m saying, because a lot of times doctors may know what’s going on but they do not listen.”

It’s the only time people here talk to you like you have a brain left.

—Sharon Koretsky, 73, on why she loves the meetings with researchers

O’Conor, an assistant professor at Northwestern’s Feinberg School of Medicine, had started the conversation by asking about problems that patients and caregivers face. After the discussion, she said she would focus more on “what helps people build on their strengths” because “the resilience and positivity of people really stood out today.”

The Bureau of Sages has received two rounds of funding totaling $500,000 from the Patient-Centered Outcomes Research Institute (PCORI), an organization that sponsors innovative projects that include patients in setting research priorities, designing research studies and evaluating their impact.

Unlike occasional surveys or focus groups, a standing group like the Sages can provide “valuable ongoing context about individuals’ lives” that sharpens research and makes it more relevant, said Kristin Carman, PCORI’s director of public and patient engagement.

At the Lieberman nursing home, on another April afternoon, two researchers—a physician and a biomechanical engineer—presented a project they’re working on to nine seniors, most in wheelchairs. Their prototype device would help people with compromised mobility stand up from a sitting position, a task that requires a surprising amount of coordination and strength.

“Would I be able to use this [device] if I can’t straighten my leg out all the way?” asked Sharon Koretsky, 73, who has diabetes and severe osteoarthritis and can no longer stand on her own. “If your muscles are atrophied, would this help improve your condition?” wondered Fern Netzsky, 76, who has had multiple sclerosis for 35 years and can no longer stand or walk.

Both women use what’s known as a “sit-to-stand lift”—a clunky device that helps people transfer from a bed to a chair or from a chair to a toilet seat and that requires two aides to maneuver it. Another commonly used device is a Hoyer lift, which uses a sling to help people rise.

“I hate the Hoyer: they pull it between your legs and you lay there like a big sack of potatoes with your butt hanging out,” Koretsky said. Anything that someone could strap on themselves and that could help people get up more easily with only one aide’s help would be a “wonderful idea,” she added.

One group of Sages wants researchers to investigate better training for certified nursing assistants (CNAs).

As other Lieberman residents chimed in, it became clear they wanted help with walking, not just with standing. They wanted to be able to use the device outdoors, as well as inside the facility. And safety was essential. “I would be willing to try this if I was assured I would not fall and if there was enough protection around me,” Netzsky said.

The researchers, who asked not to be identified because they are working on this project outside of their full-time jobs, said they found many of the comments helpful. Older adults are often assumed to be resistant to using technology but this group seemed quite open to technology that improves their quality of life, the physician observed.

After the meeting, Nancy Weinberg, 96, another participant, described a communication gap between researchers and nursing home residents when the Bureau of Sages began. “They were speaking ‘researchese,’ and I didn’t have any idea what they were talking about. Now they understand we don’t want to hear jargon, and they speak our language.”

With characteristic bluntness, Koretsky said she loved the Sages’ meetings, observing, “It’s the only time people here talk to you like you have a brain left.”

The Lieberman Sages are now trying to persuade researchers at Northwestern to investigate the shortage of certified nursing assistants (CNAs) and the need to better train CNAs—problems faced by nursing homes across the nation. Amy Eisenstein, director of the Leonard Schanfield Research Institute at CJE SeniorLife in Chicago and the project’s principal investigator, is working to expand the program to other locations, including Miami University in Oxford, OH, and the University of Massachusetts, Boston. CJE SeniorLife, sponsored by Chicago’s Council for Jewish Elderly, provides a variety of services to seniors and is the Bureau of Sages’ original sponsor.

(Materials that can help any organization launch a Bureau of Sages are available at the Council for Jewish Elderly’s website under the “Resources” section.)

“I think that all research on aging needs to include the voices of older adults,” Eisenstein said. “They are experts about their lives, and we need to incorporate their perspectives to make research better.”

 

When Should You Take Away an Older Person’s Cell Phone?

It’s a delicate matter that can raise ethical issues
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More and more older people are comfortable with technology such as smartphones. But as some develop dementia, families must decide whether to step in and protect them from temptations online. Journalist Judith Graham, writing for Kaiser Health News (KHN), describes problems that can crop up, along with some possible solutions. KHN posted her article on September 26, 2019. Funding from the Silver Century Foundation helps KHN develop articles (like this one) on longevity and related health and social issues.  

At first, Robert Zorowitz, MD, thought his 83-year-old mother was confused. She couldn’t remember passwords to accounts on her computer. She would call and say programs had stopped working.

But over time, Zorowitz realized his mother—a highly intelligent woman who was comfortable with technology—was showing early signs of dementia.

Increasingly, families will encounter similar concerns as older adults become reliant on computers, cell phones and tablets: with cognitive impairment, these devices become difficult to use and, in some cases, problematic.

Computer skills may deteriorate even “before [older adults] misplace keys, forget names or display other, more classic signs of early dementia,” Zorowitz wrote recently on a group email list for geriatricians. (He’s based in New York City and [is] senior medical director for Optum, a health services company.) 

“Deciding whether to block their access to their bank accounts, stocks and other online resources may present the same ethical dilemmas as taking away their car keys,” [he said.] 

The emergence of this issue tracks the growing popularity of devices that let older adults communicate with friends and family via email, join interest groups on Facebook, visit virtually via Skype or FaceTime, and bank, shop, take courses or read publications online.

According to the Pew Research Center, 73 percent of adults 65 and older used the Internet in 2019, up from 43 percent in 2010. And 42 percent of older adults owned smartphones in 2017, the latest year for which data is available, up from 18 percent in 2013.

Already, some physicians are adapting to this new digital reality. At Johns Hopkins Medicine, Halima Amjad, MD, an assistant professor of medicine, now asks older patients if they use a computer or smartphone and are having trouble, such as forgetting passwords or getting locked out of accounts.

“If there’s a notable change in how someone is using technology,” she said, “we would proceed with a more in-depth cognitive evaluation.”

Safety can become an issue for an older person with dementia who gets emails from scammers. 

At Rush University’s Alzheimer’s Disease Center in Chicago, neurologist Neelum Aggarwal, MD, finds that older adults are bringing up problems with technology as a “non-threatening way to talk about trouble with thinking.”

“Instead of saying, ‘I have issues with my memory,’ people will say, ‘I just can’t figure out my smartphone’ or ‘I was trying to start that computer program and it took forever to get that done.’”

If the person previously used digital devices without difficulty, Aggarwal will try to identify the underlying problem. Does the older adult have problems with vision or coordination? Is she having trouble understanding language? Is memory becoming compromised? Is it hard for her to follow the steps needed to complete a transaction?

If using technology has become frustrating, Aggarwal recommends deleting apps on cell phones and programs on computers.

“The anxiety associated with ‘Oh, my God, I have to use this and I don’t know how’ totally sets people back and undoes any gains that technology might offer,” she said. “It’s similar to what I do with medications: I’ll help someone get rid of what’s not needed and keep only what’s really essential.”

Typically, she said, she recommends no more than five to 10 cell phone apps for patients in these circumstances.

When safety becomes an issue—say, for an older adult with dementia who’s being approached by scammers on email—family members should first try counseling the person against giving out their Social Security or credit card information, said Cynthia Clyburn, a social worker in the neurology division at Penn Medicine in Philadelphia.

If that doesn’t work, try to spend time together at the computer so you can monitor what’s going on. “Make it a group activity,” Clyburn said. If possible, create shared passwords so you have shared access.

But beware of appropriating someone’s passwords and using them to check email or online bank or brokerage accounts. “Without consent, it’s a federal crime to use an individual’s password to access their accounts,” said Catherine Seal, an elder law attorney at Kirtland & Seal in Colorado Springs, CO. Ideally, consent should be granted in writing.

Older adults with Alzheimer’s commonly turn away from digital devices as they forget how to use them.

With his mother’s permission, one of Zorowitz’s brothers—a physician in Baltimore—installed GoToMyPC, an application that allowed him to remotely manage her computer. He used it to reset passwords and manage items on her desktop and sometimes to order groceries online from Peapod.

Eventually, Selma Zorowitz lost interest in her computer as she slipped further into dementia and spent the end of her life in a nursing home. She died in 2014 at age 87.

Older adults with Alzheimer’s disease commonly turn away from digital devices as they forget how to use them, said Lon Schneider, MD, a professor of psychiatry and neurology at the University of Southern California.

More difficult, often, are situations faced by people with frontotemporal dementia (FTD), which affects a person’s judgment, self-awareness and ability to assess risk.

Sally Balch Hurme’s 75-year-old husband, Arthur, has FTD, diagnosed in 2015. Every day, this elder law attorney and author struggles to keep him safe in a digital world full of threats.

Hundreds of emails pour onto Arthur’s cell phone from telemarketers with hard-to-resist offers. His Facebook account is peopled with “friends” from foreign countries, all strangers. “He has no idea who they are. Some of them are wearing bandoliers of ammunition, holding their guns,” Hurme said. “It is horrific.”

Then, there’s Amazon, a never-ending source of shopping temptation. Recently, Arthur ordered four pocket translators, several watches and a large quantity of maple sugar candies for $1,000. Though returns are possible, Hurme doesn’t always know where Arthur has stored items he’s bought.

What steps has she taken to manage the situation? With Arthur’s permission, she unsubscribes him from accounts that send him emails and removes friends from his Facebook account. On his cell phone, she has installed a parental-control app that blocks him from using it between midnight and 6 a.m.—hours when he was most likely to engage in online activities. There’s also a parental-control setting on the TV to prevent access to “adult” channels.

Instead of an open-ended credit card, Hurme gives Arthur a stored-value card with a limited amount of money. She manages household finances, and he doesn’t have access to the couple’s online banking account. Credit bureaus have been told not to open any account in Arthur’s name.

If Hurme had her way, she said, she’d get rid of Arthur’s cell phone—his primary form of communication. (He has stopped using the computer.) But “I’m very sensitive to respecting his dignity and letting him be as independent and autonomous as possible,” she said. For all the dangers it presents, “his phone is his connection with the outside world, and I can’t take that away from him.”

Wearable Technology Has Great Potential

But it also presents challenges for older adults
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A small wristband device is helping Randy Miltenberger prepare for a knee replacement.

His doctor wants him to strengthen his leg muscles to prepare for the upcoming surgery and rehab, so Miltenberger, 73, wears a FitBit fitness tracker. The device records his steps during his normal routine during the day; every afternoon, he walks on an indoor track until he reaches five miles.

“The FitBit gives me a goal and a way to keep me accountable,” he said. He also uses the FitBit to check his heart rate during exercise—making sure he’s working hard enough, but not too hard—and to check his resting heart rate, now a very healthy 54 beats per minute.

Miltenberger fits right in with the current trend. Tech industry observers think fitness trackers are just the tip of the iceberg of the growing array of wearable devices that could help keep older adults healthier, safer and more independent, with options ranging from heart rate monitors and medical alert devices to airbag hip belts.

Some devices already save lives, but others may fail with older adults.

Manufacturers shipped more than 172 million wearable devices worldwide in 2018, according to International Data Corporation, and that number is expected to grow to at least 250 million by 2021.

Older adults are adopting these devices at almost the same rate as the overall population; while 20 percent of Americans under 65 use wearables to track fitness, almost as many (17 percent) of those over 65 are using wearables too.

“There are vast opportunities to attack problems faced by older adults through wearables,” said Ashley Newsom Kubley, a wearable tech designer and head of the Fashion Technology Center at the University of Cincinnati.

But these devices also raise questions specific to an older population. Are they user-friendly and accessible? Can they work for those affected by reduced vision or cognitive impairment? Are they reliable enough to use for medical purposes?

“It all depends on the [older adult] and on the technology,” said Irene Hamrick, MD, chief of the Office of Geriatric Medicine at the University of Cincinnati College of Medicine. Some devices already save lives, while others can fall short in the face of some of the limitations affecting older adults.

Wide Array of Wearables

In addition to fitness trackers, the portfolio of wearable technology includes medical alert systems, which connect a user to help with the press of a button. While they’ve been available for years, newer versions incorporate features like fall detection and the ability to pair with a cell phone. Some don’t even require the press of a button—they detect a fall or a lack of motion and automatically call for help.

Other devices include:

  • Health monitors help wearers track their heart rate and blood pressure and can even spot heartbeat irregularities. Some, like BodyGuardian, will trigger a warning—sent to the wearer as well as to his or her physician—when a worrisome heartbeat is detected.
  • GPS tracking devices, such as shoe insoles or clip-on wearables, track the location of the wearer and allow family members or caregivers to locate the person quickly in an instance of wandering.
  • Some devices, like the Apple Watch, combine these functions. The newest version (Series 5) includes step counting, heart monitoring and GPS tracking, as well as fall detection and the functions of a cell phone (calling, texting, checking email).
  • Airbag hip belts are strapped around the wearer’s hips to help prevent fractures in the event of a fall. The device analyzes the wearer’s motion, detects a fall and deploys the airbags automatically before the person hits the ground.
  • Pain-relief devices, like Oska Pulse or Quell Pain Relief, treat chronic pain with low-voltage electrical current. Typically these are belts strapped around an affected area. Some are paired with cell phone apps, allowing the user to control the timing of treatment and track results.

More Independence, Increased Safety

Experts who work with older adults say wearable devices can be lifesavers. Susan Rebillet, a geriatric psychologist, has about two dozen patients who have used their medical alert buttons to call family members or 911 after a fall or a medical emergency.

“Many of my patients are absolutely able to live independently longer because of this technology,” said Rebillet. “Even if the device is never used, it really gives the older adult and the family peace of mind.”

Rebillet adds that a medical alert device also makes it easier for family members to respect an older adult’s privacy and independence. Family members are less likely to panic, for example, if the older adult doesn’t pick up her phone for a bit, relying on the device to alert them if there’s trouble.

For patients recovering from heart attacks, smartwatches customized for cardiac rehab can provide monitoring at home.

Similarly, Hamrick notes that GPS tracking devices have enabled families or law enforcement to quickly locate elders with dementia who have wandered or gotten lost.

Remote activity monitoring technology—which combines wearables with other devices like motion sensors, bed sensors and medication monitoring—may help keep tabs not only on older adults but also on the care they receive in assisted living or nursing homes, according to John Alagood, owner of the Senior Care Authority of Dallas-Fort Worth. He thinks families could be reassured if they could track, for example, when medications are administered or how often a loved one is bathed.

And, of course, wearables can make life easier for older adults. For example, Samsung tested customized smartwatches as part of cardiac rehab. The devices allowed patients to handle some of the post-attack monitoring at home and save some trips to the rehab clinic. In the pilot program, a higher percentage of those participants with the smartwatches completed the rehab.

Wearable devices can also nudge older adults to maintain healthier habits. In a 2015 study conducted by AARP, 45 percent of older adults (ages 50+) reported increased motivation for healthier living after six weeks of using a wearable activity or sleep tracker. (FitBit, for example, monitors the wearer’s motion to track deep and light sleep, as well as periods of awakening.)

But Are Wearables User Friendly?

No tech device is foolproof, even for the savviest of users. Gadgets require recharging or replacing batteries.

Many wearables must be used in tandem with an app on a smartphone. That requires the user to own a smartphone, pay monthly fees for cell phone service (which is often quite expensive) and also to have enough tech savviness to set up and navigate the apps.

Devices worn on the wrist have screens that may be too small for an older adult with visual impairment to read. There are some work-arounds—for example, a user’s progress on a FitBit can be monitored via a computer that has been modified for a visually impaired person (large screen, high contrast and large type) but that does require some tech skill to set up and navigate.

The Apple Watch offers accessibility features such as a gesture-activated speaker function for the visually impaired, a wrist tap to alert a hearing-impaired user to an incoming call or text, and even fitness-tracking options for those in wheelchairs. But the Apple Watch is also expensive, as are the associated monthly fees (either for the watch itself or for a paired iPhone). And it requires tech savvy.

Medical-alert buttons and monitoring and tracking devices work best for people with dementia early in the disease.

Some devices aren’t useful if there’s no family member or friend keeping tabs on the wearer. A GPS tracking device, for example, won’t help if no one’s at the other end to notice that an older adult has wandered away from home.

And if a user forgets to wear or activate the device, it doesn’t work at all. Rebillet recalled a patient who fell and lay on the floor for three days, even though she was wearing an alert pendant around her neck.

“She simply forgot she had it,” Rebillet said. “Possibly the fall itself traumatized her and contributed to her forgetfulness. But this woman had not shown obvious signs of dementia before the fall.”

Researchers similarly found that the remote activity-monitoring technology worked best for older adults in the early stages of dementia who were still mobile. But even then, families struggled. GPS can be less accurate in cities due to interference created by buildings, or rural areas may have limited cell or internet coverage. Alerts can be delayed or slow. The older adult might remove the wearable or turn it off.

While medical-alert, monitoring and tracking devices can allow people with memory impairment to live independently longer, many “are optimal only in a narrow window of dementia progression,” according to Hamrick.

“In early dementia, patients can still use a cell phone, which can be much less expensive than an alert button,” she said. “But as dementia progresses, patients don’t remember to push the button, even when they wear it, or don’t know what to do with the button.”

Gadget or Medical Device?

As the costs of health care skyrocket—and tech devices become more inexpensive and more powerful—many are pinning hope on the potential for wearable devices to save money. For example, a wearable tracking an older adult’s movement could alert caregivers to a developing urinary tract infection (UTI), signaled by frequent trips to the bathroom or an unusual gait due to pain. If preventive measures are taken within the first 72 hours of symptoms, that could result in savings of up to $13,000, which is the average cost of hospitalization for a patient with a UTI.

But that points to an area where wearable devices could face pushback from the FDA (Food and Drug Administration). If a smartwatch can track sleep patterns, record heart rates and monitor body temp, at what point does it become a health care device, and thus subject to stricter regulations?

“When you see every sort of technology becoming a health technology, the lines blur,” said Eri Gentry, a research affiliate at Institute for the Future. “Regulators are going to have a challenging time figuring out where to draw the line between what’s medically relevant and what’s just a smart-home device.”

Also, wearables that collect health data raise privacy questions. Where does the personal medical information go? Who has access to it and how is it being used?

Kubley cautioned that wearables should supplement, but not replace, professional medical care.

Wearable devices “can be very useful for preventative care or for correcting negative behaviors (bad posture, sleeping habits) or encouraging healthy behaviors (like taking medicines regularly),” Kubley said. “But self-diagnosis can be problematic when people rely on devices in lieu of the advice of trained medical professionals.”

Tech Shall Overcome?

However, Kubley said, these issues aren’t insurmountable. They’re pointers to the next generation of wearable devices.

“These are actually good challenges for designers to edit and refine,” said Kubley. “In product design, you must always imagine the best- and worst-case scenarios of how a user will engage with a product.”

Increasingly, designers emphasize universal design—making devices accessible and easier to use for people of all abilities—and that benefits older adults. While not marketed specifically for older adults, the Apple Watch’s latest iterations (Series 4 and Series 5) feature screens that are 30 percent larger than earlier versions and a speaker function that’s 50 percent louder.

But no wearable technology will ever entirely replace the human touch.

“There’s a part of caregiving that will always be about the people, the caregivers,” Alagood said. “That will never be digitized.”

Getting Older, Sleeping Less?

Older adults are more prone to sleep issues—but there’s hope
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Until age 45, Mary Jo Anderson says, she was a “champion sleeper.” 

“It’s like someone flipped a light switch,” she said. “When I entered menopause, I suddenly couldn’t fall asleep.” 

At age 64, she had less trouble falling asleep but couldn’t stay asleep. She woke up almost every hour of the night and felt tired much of the time during the day.

Anderson was not alone. More than half of all Americans over 65 report they have difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep, according to the National Institute on Aging.  

It’s a miserable feeling. While everyone else sleeps comfortably, you’re awake. Anxious or distressing thoughts occupy your mind. The longer you stay awake, the more you worry about not getting enough sleep. You fear you won’t be able to function the next day; you fret over how the lack of sleep may affect your health. A vicious cycle ensues: the more you can’t sleep, the more you worry about not sleeping, which keeps you awake. You start to dread bedtime and another night of trying desperately to sleep—and failing.

“It’s a cruel joke that life plays on us,” said W. Christopher Winter, MD, founder of the Martha Jefferson Hospital Sleep Medicine Center and author of The Sleep Solution: Why Your Sleep Is Broken and How to Fix It (2018). “When we’re young—working nonstop, with kids running around the house—we wish we just had more time to sleep. Then we get older and have more time, and your brain’s saying, ‘I don’t really want it anymore.’”

Plus, the media are full of alarming reports that connect sleeplessness with health problems. Chronic insomnia is linked to increased risk of developing obesity, Type 2 diabetes, hypertension, heart attack, depression or anxiety. Research also links insomnia to Alzheimer’s and other forms of dementia (although it’s not clear whether the insomnia is a cause or an early symptom). Sleep-deprived people are more prone to falls or car accidents as well as forgetfulness. And, according to the National Sleep Foundation, a lack of sleep is linked to overeating—especially the overconsumption of junk food—which can lead to weight gain. 

On the flip side, people who do sleep well are more likely to be alert, function better mentally and are even more likely to maintain a healthy weight. 

But there is hope for those of us who call ourselves poor sleepers. With a “sleep makeover”—changing habits that disrupt sleep, developing routines that promote sleepiness at bedtime—many older adults can get the sleep they need. 

The Roots of Sleeplessness

Researchers divide sleep disorders into two general categories: dyssomnias and parasomnias. Any sleep disorder that causes daytime drowsiness is a dyssomnia. That includes insomnia as well as other conditions, such as sleep apnea or restless leg syndrome. Parasomnias are sleep disorders with odd or irregular behaviors that occur during sleep, such as sleepwalking or night terrors.

People with insomnia—difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep—may experience fatigue, low energy, difficulty concentrating, mood disturbances and decreased performance at work. Chronic insomnia isn’t an unavoidable aspect of normal aging, but sleep patterns do change as we age. It’s possible to understand these changes and not let them cause unnecessary distress that keeps you up nights. 

“Among healthy older adults, the brain circuit that controls sleep just isn’t as robust compared to that of their younger selves,” said Steven Lin, MD, neurologist with Healthcare Associates in Medicine, PC, in Staten Island, NY. “Plus, older people tend to have medical or other issues that may interfere with normal sleep.”

People over 65 are more likely to suffer from chronic conditions, such as arthritis, which can cause pain that can awaken them at night. They may be more prone to bladder issues that necessitate repeated nighttime trips to the bathroom. For elders caring for a spouse or a loved one, sleep may be disrupted when they get up at night to tend to the person. Older adults are also more likely to take medications that affect sleep or cause daytime sleepiness even after a good night’s sleep.

Experts say it’s normal for older people to take longer to doze off at night, to sleep more lightly and to wake several times during the night.

The timing of sleep may change too. Older adults tend to become sleepy earlier in the evening and wake up earlier in the morning. One National Sleep Foundation poll found that about two-thirds of adults over 65 consider themselves a “morning person,” considerably more than in the general population.

Experts also say it’s normal for people to sleep more lightly as they get older. Sleep occurs in cycles that are repeated several times during the night, including dreamless periods of light and deep sleep and periods of active dreaming (REM sleep). Beginning in middle age, people naturally spend less time in deep and REM sleep. They tend to wake up more often, an average of three to four times a night. Older people also are likely to take more time to fall asleep and have more difficulty staying asleep. 

Plus, an older person who’s sedentary—due to mobility issues, for example—may simply need less sleep. Ditto for someone who is retired, who need not arise at 6 a.m. every day or face the daily stresses of a job.

For older adults, a sleep makeover can start with simply recognizing these changes that come with age—and not getting too distressed about them. Try to minimize anxiety that might trigger more sleeplessness, Winter said

“Our sleep patterns change throughout life,” he said. “I’m 47. My sleep is not the same as it was when I was seven or 17. I have occasional nights where I’m lying in bed awake up until 4 a.m. I try to enjoy the quiet time, rather than getting stressed about it.” 

Resetting Sleep Rhythms

One important step in a sleep makeover is to work with your body’s circadian clock—the natural rhythms that make us alert during the day and sleepy at night, ​and that include the waxing and waning of the sleep-promoting hormone melatonin. With exposure to sunlight during the day, the body’s secretion of melatonin tends to drop off. As it gets darker at night, melatonin secretion increases.  

To reset your sleep rhythms, you should adopt a consistent sleep schedule with an emphasis on arising at the same time each day.

In addition, these steps may help:

  • Avoiding caffeine, alcohol, nicotine or other chemicals that interfere with sleep 
  • Creating a comfortable sleep environment (cool, dark and quiet) in the bedroom
  • Establishing a calming, pre-sleep routine
  • Making an evening to-do list so you don’t fret over what’s ahead the next day
  • Eliminating late-afternoon and early-evening naps
  • Eating and drinking enough, but not too much or too soon before bedtime 
  • Exercising regularly but not right before bedtime
  • Taking melatonin supplements under a physician’s supervision

An effective sleep makeover should also involve using light to your advantage. Get plenty of exposure to sunlight. Avoid electronic devices (e-readers, cell phones, tablets, TV or computer screens) that emit blue light, which can delay or disrupt sleep, in the hour before bedtime. 

Incorporating relaxation techniques, such as meditation or yoga, as part of your bedtime routine may help too, Lin said. Similarly, it’s a good idea to avoid anything too stimulating (a tense or engrossing novel, a violent film or the TV news if that upsets you) at bedtime. 

But how do we stop thinking about those news reports about the dangers of poor sleep? They can trigger anxiety. And anxiety is the enemy of good sleep. 

It’s easy to underestimate the number of hours you slept. Pay attention instead to how you feel the next day. 

“Unrealistic expectations about sleep that are not helpful can add to a patient’s stress, and that can lead to chronic insomnia,” Lin said. Because older people sleep more lightly and wake more often, or simply need less sleep, they may worry about a lack of sleep even when they’re actually getting enough. That leads to more stress, which leads to more trouble falling or staying asleep, triggering a vicious cycle. 

Experts advise against getting too hung up on how many hours you’re asleep on a given night. Sleep needs are individualized. There is no “gold standard” for how much sleep an older person needs; rather, it’s based on how people feel and how well they function on the amount of sleep they get. It’s more important to pay attention to how you feel during the day rather than how many hours you slept.

Adding to the anxiety, people can also easily misjudge the number of hours they are actually sleeping. Sleep medicine specialists call that paradoxical insomnia, according to David Luterman, MD, medical director of the Sleep Center at Baylor Scott & White in Dallas. For example, patients in the sleep lab—where sleep is monitored during an overnight stay—may report they didn’t sleep at all. 

“Yet the measurements taken of their brain waves showed they were asleep for at least four hours,” he said. “The patient’s perception is ‘I’m up all night’ but that’s not really the case.”

If you’re feeling anxious about how little sleep you’re getting, try wearing a fitness tracker (such as a FitBit) that monitors sleep. These wristband devices may not differentiate precisely between REM, deep and light sleep, but Winter said they do tally the total number of hours you’re asleep with reasonable accuracy.

“If a patient tells me he’s sleeping only an hour or two a night, and the device is saying he’s sleeping six hours and 13 minutes on average, I believe the device,” he said.  

Don’t Lose Sleep Over a Little Lost Sleep

We all experience sleeplessness at times. You may feel tired and worried about it, but it may not actually be worrisome. 

Winter cautions against equating insomnia with sleep deprivation, especially occasional insomnia. Those studies that warn against the dangers of too little sleep, he said, relate more to people who never get enough rest: the single mom working two jobs who can manage only four hours of sleep a night; the hard-charging executive who gets up at 4 a.m. to work out; the person with chronic sleep apnea who awakes four to five times an hour at night. 

It’s normal for people to experience insomnia for short periods after a stressful event, such as a divorce or the death of a loved one, Luterman said. During very stressful periods, he recommends considering the option of sleep medication, which may help avoid short-term, stress-related insomnia that turns into chronic insomnia. However, because older people respond differently to medicines than younger adults, sleep medication should not be taken except under a physician’s supervision. 

“It’s a careful balance,” Luterman said. “You don’t want to rush to prescribe patients a sleeping pill when the root cause of insomnia may be something else.” 

He added that the American College of Physicians recommends that, for patients of any age with chronic insomnia, the first line of treatment should be cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) rather than medication. CBT is solution-oriented psychotherapy that treats specific problems by modifying dysfunctional thoughts and behaviors. Behavior modification might include simple steps like going to bed an hour or two later if you’re not feeling sleepy or devising a helpful routine for times when you can’t sleep. (When that happens, experts advise against staying in bed and tossing and turning; instead, get up and do something quiet, like knitting or reading boring materials, until you start feeling sleepy.)

In general, sleep medication is recommended only for the short term—several weeks at most. After a longer period, patients can build up a tolerance to sleeping pills (needing increasingly higher doses for the same results) or become psychologically dependent so that the idea of going to sleep without a pill causes anxiety. Follow your doctor’s instructions and stop taking the drug as recommended.

“When you compare the two—sleep medications vs CBT—research shows the results are the same, or CBT is a little better,” Luterman said. 

When to See a Doctor

Anyone experiencing trouble sleeping that lasts more than a few months should consult a physician, to eliminate underlying emotional or medical conditions that may disrupt sleep, such as depression or restless legs syndrome, a condition that causes a twitching or tingling sensation and an uncontrollable urge to move the legs at night.  

If insomnia persists, your doctor may prescribe a visit to a sleep clinic. That involves spending the night sleeping in a private room, with equipment that can help detect sleep problems by monitoring brain activity, eye movement, heart rate, snoring, body movements and more. 

Before you go to the clinic, the doctor may ask you to keep a sleep diary for a few weeks, noting how much sleep you got, when you went to bed and how many times you woke up during the night. That information will be compared to the results in the lab. 

Don’t Get Discouraged

While there are indeed many ways you may be able to improve your sleep, there is no one-size-fits-all answer. You’re going to have to experiment to see what works best for you. The solution may involve doctors and sleep clinics, or maybe simple changes in your routine will work wonders. 

Vickie Parker, 67, was waking up every morning at 4:20 a.m. and couldn’t easily fall back asleep, even though she was still tired. So she developed a routine that seems to work: a trip to the bathroom, a heating pad to relieve pain in her shoulder, and turning down the thermostat in her bedroom by a degree or two. If that doesn’t work, she takes a low-dose sedative prescribed by her doctor. 

And Mary Jo Anderson eventually found an unconventional solution that helps her fall and stay asleep: a podcast called Sleep with Me, which the New Yorker described as “the podcast that tells ingeniously boring bedtime stories to help you fall asleep.”

“The host talks in this lull-y, drone-y voice,” Anderson said. “He’ll tell a story or recap a popular TV show. On one, he narrates while he’s putting together an Ikea bed. It helps shut down your mind but it’s not interesting enough that you stay awake to hear the end. It’s been the best thing for me.”

Starving Seniors: How America Fails to Feed Its Aging

Millions of older people are going hungry as safety nets fray
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Two distinguished health journalists tackle a new and heartbreaking topic: hunger among the nation’s elders. More and more older people aren’t sure where their next meal will come from. This story was posted on the Kaiser Health News website on September 3, 2019, and also ran on the Time website. Funding from the Silver Century Foundation helps KHN develop articles (like this one) on longevity and related health and social issues.

Army veteran Eugene Milligan is 75 years old and blind. He uses a wheelchair since losing half his right leg to diabetes and gets dialysis for kidney failure.

And he has struggled to get enough to eat.

Earlier this year, he ended up in the hospital after burning himself while boiling water for oatmeal. The long stay caused the Memphis vet to fall off a charity’s rolls for home-delivered Meals on Wheels, so he had to rely on others, such as his son, a generous off-duty nurse and a local church to bring him food.

“Many times, I’ve felt like I was starving,” he said. “There’s neighbors that need food too. There’s people at dialysis that need food. There’s hunger everywhere.”

Indeed, millions of seniors across the country quietly go hungry as the safety net designed to catch them frays. Nearly 8 percent of Americans 60 and older were “food insecure” in 2017, according to a recent study released by the anti-hunger group Feeding America. That’s 5.5 million seniors who don’t have consistent access to enough food for a healthy life, a number that has more than doubled since 2001 and is only expected to grow as America grays.

While the plight of hungry children elicits support and can be tackled in schools, the plight of hungry older Americans is shrouded by isolation and a generation’s pride. The problem is most acute in parts of the South and Southwest. Louisiana has the highest rate among states, with 12 percent of seniors facing food insecurity. Memphis fares worst among major metropolitan areas, with 17 percent of seniors like Milligan unsure of their next meal.

And government relief falls short. One of the main federal programs helping seniors is starved for money. The Older Americans Act—passed more than half a century ago as part of President Lyndon Johnson’s Great Society reforms—was amended in 1972 to provide for home-delivered and group meals, along with other services, for anyone 60 and older. But its funding has lagged far behind senior population growth, as well as economic inflation.

The biggest chunk of the act’s budget, nutrition services, dropped by 8 percent over the past 18 years when adjusted for inflation, an AARP report found in February. Home-delivered and group meals have decreased by nearly 21 million since 2005. Only a fraction of those facing food insecurity get any meal services under the act; a US Government Accountability Office report examining 2013 data found 83 percent got none.

With the act set to expire Sept. 30, Congress is now considering its reauthorization and how much to spend going forward.

When food-deprived older people wind up in hospital, that drives up costs paid ultimately by the taxpayers.

Meanwhile, according to the US Department of Agriculture, only 45 percent of eligible adults 60 and older have signed up for another source of federal aid: SNAP, the food stamp program for America’s poorest. Those who don’t are typically either unaware they could qualify, believe their benefits would be tiny or can no longer get to a grocery store to use them.

Even fewer seniors may have SNAP in the future. More than 13 percent of SNAP households with elderly members would lose benefits under a recent Trump administration proposal.

For now, millions of seniors—especially low-income ones—go without. Across the nation, waits are common to receive home-delivered meals from a crucial provider, Meals on Wheels, a network of 5,000 community-based programs. In Memphis, for example, the wait to get on the Meals on Wheels schedule is more than a year long.

“It’s really sad because a meal is not an expensive thing,” said Sally Jones Heinz, president and CEO of the Metropolitan Inter-Faith Association, which provides home-delivered meals in Memphis. “This shouldn’t be the way things are in 2019.”

Since malnutrition exacerbates diseases and prevents healing, seniors without steady, nutritious food can wind up in hospitals, which drives up Medicare and Medicaid costs, hitting taxpayers with an even bigger bill. Sometimes seniors relapse quickly after discharge—or worse.

Widower Robert Mukes, 71, starved to death on a cold December day in 2016, alone in his Cincinnati apartment.

The Hamilton County Coroner listed the primary cause of death as “starvation of unknown etiology” and noted “possible hypothermia,” pointing out that his apartment had no electricity or running water. Death records show the 5-foot-7-inch man weighed just 100.5 pounds.

A Clear Need

On a hot May morning in Memphis, seniors trickled into a food bank at the Riverside Missionary Baptist Church, three miles from the opulent tourist mecca of Graceland. They picked up boxes packed with canned goods, rice, vegetables and meat.

Marion Thomas, 63, placed her box in the trunk of a friend’s car. She lives with chronic back pain and high blood pressure and started coming to the pantry three years ago. She’s disabled, relies on Social Security and gets $42 a month from SNAP based on her income, household size and other factors. That’s much less than the average $125-a-month benefit for households with seniors, but more than the $16 minimum that one in five such households gets. Still, Thomas said, “I can’t buy very much.”

A day later, the Mid-South Food Bank brought a “mobile pantry” to Latham Terrace, a senior housing complex, where a long line of people waited. Some inched forward in wheelchairs; others leaned on canes. One by one, they collected their allotments.

The need is just as real elsewhere. In Dallas, TX, 69-year-old China Anderson squirrels away milk, cookies and other parts of her home-delivered lunches for dinner because she can no longer stand and cook due to scoliosis and eight deteriorating vertebral discs.

As seniors ration food, programs ration services.

Although more than a third of the Meals on Wheels money comes from the Older Americans Act, even with additional public and private dollars, funds are still so limited that some programs have no choice but to triage people, using score sheets that assign points based on who needs food the most. Seniors coming from the hospital and those without family usually top waiting lists.

Food delivery services don’t just bring food; they provide human connections for isolated elders.

More than 1,000 were waiting on the Memphis area’s list recently. And in Dallas, $4.1 million in donations wiped out a 1,000-person waiting list in December, but within months it had crept back up to 100.

Nationally, “there are tens of thousands of seniors who are waiting,” said Erika Kelly, chief membership and advocacy officer for Meals on Wheels America. “While they’re waiting, their health deteriorates and, in some cases, we know seniors have died.”

Edwin Walker, a deputy assistant secretary for the federal Administration on Aging, acknowledged waits are a long-standing problem but said 2.4 million people a year benefit from the Older Americans Act’s group or home-delivered meals, allowing them to stay independent and healthy.

Seniors get human connection, as well as food, from these services. Aner Lee Murphy, a 102-year-old Meals on Wheels client in Memphis, counts on the visits with volunteers Libby and Bob Anderson almost as much as the food. She calls them “my children,” hugging them close and offering a prayer each time they leave.

But others miss out on such physical and psychological nourishment. A devastating phone call brought that home for Kim Daugherty, executive director of the Aging Commission of the Mid-South, which connects seniors to service providers in the region. The woman on the line told Daugherty she’d been on the waiting list for more than a year.

“Ma’am, there are several hundred people ahead of you,” Daugherty reluctantly explained.

“I just need you all to remember,” came the caller’s haunting reply, “I’m hungry and I need food.”

A Slow Killer

James Ziliak, a poverty researcher at the University of Kentucky who worked on the Feeding America study, said food insecurity shot up with the Great Recession, starting in the late 2000s, and peaked in 2014. He said it shows no signs of dropping to pre-recession levels.

While older adults of all income levels can face difficulty accessing and preparing healthy food, rates are highest among seniors in poverty. They are also high among minorities. More than 17 percent of black seniors and 16 percent of Hispanic seniors are food insecure, compared with fewer than 7 percent of white seniors.

A host of issues combine to set those seniors on a downward spiral, said registered dietitian Lauri Wright, who chairs the Department of Nutrition and Dietetics at the University of North Florida. Going to the grocery store gets a lot harder if they can’t drive. Expensive medications leave less money for food. Chronic physical and mental health problems sap stamina and make it tough to cook. Inch by inch, hungry seniors decline.

And, even if it rarely kills directly, hunger can complicate illness and kill slowly.

Malnutrition blunts immunity, which already tends to weaken as people age. Once they start losing weight, they’re more likely to grow frail and are more likely to die within a year, said John Morley, MD, director of the division of geriatric medicine at Saint Louis University.

Seniors just out of the hospital are particularly vulnerable. Many wind up getting readmitted, pushing up taxpayers’ costs for Medicare and Medicaid. A recent analysis by the Bipartisan Policy Center found that Medicare could save $1.57 for every dollar spent on home-delivered meals for chronically ill seniors after a hospitalization.

There were more than 1,000 people ahead of Milligan on the food-delivery waiting list as his health deteriorated.

Most hospitals don’t refer senior outpatients to Meals on Wheels, and advocates say too few insurance companies get involved in making sure seniors have enough to eat to keep them healthy.

When Milligan, the Memphis veteran, burned himself with boiling water last winter and had to be hospitalized for 65 days, he fell off the Metropolitan Inter-Faith Association’s radar. The meals he’d been getting for about a decade stopped.

Heinz, Metropolitan’s CEO, said the association is usually able to start and stop meals for short hospital stays. But, Heinz said, the association didn’t hear from Milligan and kept trying to deliver meals for a time while he was in the hospital, then notified the Aging Commission of the Mid-South he wasn’t home. As is standard procedure, Metropolitan officials said, a staff member from the commission made three attempts to contact him and left a card at the blind man’s home.

But nothing happened when he got out of the hospital this spring. In mid-May, a nurse referred him for meal delivery. Still, he didn’t get meals because he faced a wait list already more than 1,000 names long.

After questions from Kaiser Health News, Heinz looked into Milligan’s case and realized that, as a former client, Milligan could get back on the delivery schedule faster.

But even then the process still has hurdles: the aging commission would need to conduct a new home assessment for meals to resume. That has yet to happen because, amid the wait, Milligan’s health deteriorated.

A Murky Future

As the Older Americans Act awaits reauthorization this fall, many senior advocates worry about its funding.

In June, the US House passed a $93 million increase to the Older Americans Act‘s nutrition programs, raising total funding by about 10 percent to $1 billion in the next fiscal year. In inflation-adjusted dollars, that’s still less than in 2009. And it still has to pass in the Republican-controlled Senate, where the proposed increase faces long odds.

US Rep. Suzanne Bonamici, an Oregon Democrat who chairs the Civil Rights and Human Services Subcommittee, expects the panel to tackle legislation for reauthorization of the act soon after members return from the August recess. She’s now working with colleagues “to craft a strong, bipartisan update,” she said, that increases investments in nutrition programs as well as other services.

“I’m confident the House will soon pass a robust bill,” she said, “and I am hopeful that the Senate will also move quickly so we can better meet the needs of our seniors.”

In the meantime, “the need for home-delivered meals keeps increasing every year,” said Lorena Fernandez, who runs a meal delivery program in Yakima, WA. Activists are pressing state and local governments to ensure seniors don’t starve, with mixed results. In Louisiana, for example, anti-hunger advocates stood on the state Capitol steps in May and unsuccessfully called on the state to invest $1 million to buy food from Louisiana farmers to distribute to hungry residents. Elsewhere, senior activists across the nation have participated each March in “March for Meals” events such as walks, fundraisers and rallies designed to focus attention on the problem.

Private fundraising hasn’t been easy everywhere, especially [in] rural communities without much wealth. Philanthropy has instead tended to flow to hungry kids, who outnumber hungry seniors more than two-to-one, according to Feeding America.

“Ten years ago, organizations had a goal of ending child hunger and a lot of innovation and resources went into what could be done,” said Jeremy Everett, executive director of Baylor University’s Texas Hunger Initiative. “The same thing has not happened in the senior adult population.” And that has left people struggling for enough food to eat.

As for Milligan, he didn’t get back on Meals on Wheels before suffering complications related to his dialysis in June. He ended up back in the hospital. Ironically, it was there that he finally had a steady, if temporary, source of food.

It’s impossible to know if his time without steady, nutritious food made a difference. What is almost certain is that feeding him at home would have been far cheaper.

Are Pets Really Good for Older People?

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An older couple put aside some of the food delivered by Meals on Wheels in order to have enough to feed their dog.

A widow delays an important visit to the doctor, fearing no one will care for her cat if she is hospitalized.

An older man living alone with a sick pet agonizes over a terrible choice: incur vet bills he can’t possibly afford or have his only companion euthanized.

Heartbreaking stories like these point to a difficult reality. While pets can benefit older adults’ health and happiness, they can also lead to financial burdens, near-impossible decisions or devastating grief.

Do the benefits of pet ownership really outweigh the risks?

Weighing Benefits with Costs

For many older adults, animal companions can make a huge difference in quality of life.

“People with pets in general are happier and healthier,” says Nicki Nance, a licensed psychotherapist and associate professor of human services and psychology at Beacon College in Leesburg, FL. “Pets require a structured schedule and daily exercise. They provide a sense of purpose, constant companionship, physical contact and humor.”

Those benefits can boost mental and physical health. An American Heart Association research review concludes that “pet ownership, particularly dog ownership, may be reasonable for reduction in cardiovascular disease risk,” with the most significant benefits associated with owners who walked their dogs regularly. The Human Animal Bond Research Institute (HABRI), a nonprofit, research and education organization, cites research that points to the benefits of therapy animals: they can calm older people with dementia and alleviate anxiety and distress for those undergoing cancer treatment.

Doctors often encourage their older patients to adopt a pet. But psychologist Hal Herzog, author of Some We Love, Some We Hate, Some We Eat: Why It’s So Hard to Think Straight About Animals (2010), questions whether the data is strong enough to warrant a doctor’s recommendation. While some studies point to health benefits, others show little or none. He also notes that studies show correlation but don’t prove causality: it’s not clear whether pet ownership makes people healthier, or healthy people are more likely to have the energy, motivation and financial resources to take care of pets. Most analyses, he adds, don’t factor in the lifetime cost of owning a pet in the United States, which can run upward of $10,000.  

The hardest part of my job is having to tell an older adult that a beloved pet needs to be euthanized.

—James Moebius, veterinarian

The downside of pet ownership should not be underestimated. Pets pose a significant risk of falls. A cat underfoot, a dog that pulls too hard on a leash, or pet toys on the floor can cause a person to stumble and fall. A 2009 Centers for Disease Control analysis estimated that more than 86,000 injuries due to falls each year were related to cats and dogs, with the highest rates of injury occurring among people 75 and up. For older adults, a fall can have devastating health consequences; a hip fracture, for example, can lead to long-term impairment, nursing home admission or death. 

Dogs need to be walked, all animals need to be fed and most must be groomed at least occasionally or have cages that should be cleaned regularly. These tasks are time consuming and can be hard for someone with limited mobility. Pets need trips to the veterinarian for routine wellness visits and illness. That can be traumatic, as well as costly, and difficult for a person who doesn’t drive. 

Then there’s the trauma of losing a pet. 

“The hardest part of my job is having to tell an older adult that a beloved pet needs to be euthanized,” says James Moebius, a veterinarian in Sachse, TX. “It’s even harder when it’s an older gentlemen who lives alone and who’s part of that generation that doesn’t express feelings. You watch him walk out alone, silently, without his little dog, and it just pulls your heart out.” 

Making It Work

Barb Cathey, CEO and founder of Pets for Seniors, an adoption program in Illinois, admits there are ups and downs and often, unexpected outcomes. She helped a client named Betty to adopt a rescued dog named Zoe, and the match was a happy one. However, Betty’s family returned Zoe to the shelter a year later. A fall had forced Betty to move to rehab for several months, and no one could care for the dog. The shelter agreed to keep the dog until her owner recovered. 

Meanwhile, Betty wasn’t doing well, refusing to even try to cooperate with her rehab therapist. Then her daughter brought Zoe for a visit. Delighted to see the dog, Betty immediately moved in her bed to make room. The therapist encouraged the family to bring Zoe back regularly to keep Betty motivated. 

“Betty ended up getting better, with Zoe’s help, and eventually was able to take her back home,” Cathey says. 

Before adopting a pet, a person should carefully consider all potential challenges as well as ways to minimize problems. A key first step: choosing a pet that’s a realistic match for an older adult’s physical capabilities and energy level.

“The worst mistake a senior can make is getting an energetic puppy or young dog,” Cathey says. Ditto for a dog or cat that requires lots of expensive grooming (such as a breed with long hair) or a young pet that’s almost certain to outlive the owner by many years. 

Shelters have a hard time finding homes for older animals, but they’re often a good match for older adults.

Cathey worked with an older woman whose family gave her a Jack Russell puppy, a breed known for its high energy level.

“She would call me in misery because the puppy was too much for her and she did not want to hurt their feelings,” she says. “I convinced the family to let me find a new home for the Jack Russell pup and found an eight-year-old Pomeranian that was housebroken and just wanted to lay in her lap all day—just what she wanted.”

Shelters have a hard time finding homes for older animals, but senior pets often make a good match for older adults, according to Linda Ross, a retired counselor who worked with aging populations. Ross and her husband are in their 70s and are both healthy and active, yet they chose to adopt an older dog after theirs passed away in 2010. 

“Older pets tend to be housebroken, quieter and less energetic,” she says. “And if they’re rescued dogs who’ve been homeless or in a shelter, they are just so grateful to have a soft bed and a good routine. We just love on them and they love on us.”

Finding Solutions

Those heartbreaking stories—the older couple who put food aside for a pet or the widow who postponed medical attention—were the impetus for the founding of the Seniors’ Pet Assistance Network (SPAN) in the Dallas area. Caseworkers for local aging-related agencies had noticed the challenges of elders living alone with pets, and how a little help might go a long way. 

Now, SPAN serves low-income older adults in the Dallas area with regular deliveries of pet food as well as help with veterinary-care costs. Grant money pays for food for about 75 animals; volunteers deliver it once every other month and spend a little time checking on each client. SPAN’s clients also receive an allotment of up to $300 per year to cover routine vet care, including immunizations, heartworm medication, and flea and tick prevention. 

“That’s significant, given that many live on as little as $1,200 per month in Social Security benefits,” says Laurie Jennings, SPAN’s co-founder.

For others, potential problems in pet ownership can be addressed with a little advance planning. Some veterinary costs, such as immunizations and spaying or neutering, can be minimized by taking advantage of low-cost clinics offered at animal shelters and pet-supply stores. For those who can afford it, pet insurance offers a way to help owners avoid wrenching decisions about vet bills. Owners pay a monthly premium but may be covered (depending on the type of plan) if pricey treatments are needed. 

To prevent falls, the CDC recommends that pet owners consider obedience training, installing night lights on walkways, moving the animal to another room or a crate at night, or even choosing a light-colored pet rather than one with dark fur. 

And in the event that an older pet owner loses a beloved animal, veterinarians can often help with the grieving process by pointing them to a pet-loss support group. 

Making Arrangements for Future Care  

Jennings often hears from family members who tell her, “That animal is keeping my parent alive.” But on the flip side, it’s a source of worry.

“We have a client, a 97-year-old widow, who has a very ornery, 9-year-old poodle,” she says. “She lives for that dog and frets over who will care for the dog if something happens to her.”

Some older adults want to provide for their pets in their wills, according to Lori Leu, an elder law attorney in Plano, TX. She recommends checking with a friend or family member first to see if they’re willing to take the pet after the owner dies or becomes incapacitated. That arrangement should be put into a will, along with (if possible) a small bequest to help cover the pet’s expenses. 

Although they are careful to avoid making promises, the people at SPAN try to help clients “rehome” pets if they can no longer care for them. It’s not always possible, but they do have success stories.

Jennings recalls Bobo, the beloved pet of an elderly woman who lived alone and was dying of cancer. Family members wouldn’t take Bobo, a pit bull mix, and because he was a little aggressive, Jennings despaired of ever finding a home for him. But a rescue group took Bobo, helped socialize him and found him a home.

When the young man who adopted Bobo learned of his previous owner, he offered to bring the pet to visit her one last time, just a few weeks before she passed away. 

“So, we have this photo of Bobo, this massive pit bull, lying on top of her in her bed,” Jennings says. Now SPAN receives a holiday card each year from the young man, with a photo of Bobo sporting a Santa hat.

“You make wonderful human connections doing this work,” says Jennings. “It’s beautiful.”

Is There Such a Thing as Normal Aging?

Tracking some of the usual changes in body and mind, decade by decade
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Journalist Bruce Horovitz asked four experts in geriatrics to explain what normal aging is apt to be like for people who have taken care of their health. The experts discuss the physiological changes that typically occur, from our 50s through our 90s. Kaiser Health News (KHN) posted Horovitz’s article on April 11, 2018. It also ran in USA Today. 

For 93-year-old Joseph Brown, the clearest sign of aging was his inability the other day to remember he had to have his pants unzipped to pull them on.

For 95-year-old Caroline Mayer, it was deciding at age 80 to put away her skis, after two hip replacements.

And for 56-year-old Thomas Gill, MD, a geriatrics professor at Yale University, it’s accepting that his daily five-and-a-half-mile jog now takes him upward of 50 minutes—never mind that he long prided himself on running the distance in well under that time.

Is there such a thing as normal aging?

The physiological changes that occur with aging are not abrupt, said Gill.

The changes happen across a continuum as the reserve capacity in almost every organ system declines, he said. “Think of it, crudely, as a fuel tank in a car,” said Gill. “As you age, that reserve of fuel is diminished.”

Drawing on their decades of practice, along with the latest medical data, Gill and two geriatric experts agreed to help identify examples of what are often—but not always—considered to be signposts of normal aging for folks who practice good health habits and get recommended preventive care.

The 50s: Stamina Declines

Gill recognizes that he hit his peak as a runner in his 30s and that his muscle mass peaked somewhere in his 20s. Since then, he said, his cardiovascular function and endurance have slowly decreased. He’s the first to admit that his loss of stamina has accelerated in his 50s. He is reminded, for example, each time he runs up a flight of stairs.

In your 50s, it starts to take a bit longer to bounce back from injuries or illnesses, said Stephen Kritchevsky, PhD, 57, an epidemiologist and co-director of the J. Paul Sticht Center for Healthy Aging and Alzheimer’s Prevention at Wake Forest University. While our muscles have strong, regenerative capacity, many of our organs and tissues can only decline, he said.

Times change. Many people today function as well in their mid-70s as those in their mid-60s did a generation ago.

David Reuben, MD, 65, experienced altitude sickness and jet lag for the first time in his 50s. To reduce those effects, Reuben, director of the Multicampus Program in Geriatrics Medicine and Gerontology and chief of the geriatrics division at UCLA, learned to stick to a regimen—even when he travels cross-country: he tries to go to bed and wake up at the same time, no matter what time zone he’s in.

There often can be a slight, cognitive slowdown in your 50s too, said Kritchevsky. As a specialist in a profession that demands mental acuity, he said, “I feel I can’t spin quite as many plates at the same time as I used to.” That, he said, is because cognitive-processing speeds typically slow with age.

The 60s: Susceptibility Increases

There’s a good reason why even healthy folks age 65 and up are strongly encouraged to get vaccines for flu, pneumonia and shingles: humans’ susceptibility and negative response to these diseases increase with age. Those vaccines are critical as we get older, Gill said, since these illnesses can be fatal—even for healthy seniors.

Hearing loss is common, said Kritchevsky, especially for men.

Reaching age 60 can be emotionally trying for some, as it was for Reuben, who recalls 60 “was a very tough birthday for me. Reflection and self-doubt is pretty common in your 60s,” he said. “You realize that you are too old to be hired for certain jobs.”

The odds of suffering some form of dementia double every five years beginning at age 65, said Gill, citing an American Journal of Public Health report. While it’s hardly dementia, he said, people in their 60s might begin to recognize a slowing of information retrieval. “This doesn’t mean you have an underlying disease,” he said. “Retrieving information slows down with age.”

The 70s: Chronic Conditions Fester

Many folks in their mid-70s function as folks did in their mid-60s just a generation ago, said Gill. But this is the age when chronic conditions—like hypertension or diabetes or even dementia—often take hold. “A small percentage of people will enter their 70s without a chronic condition or without having some experiences with serious illness,” he said.

People in their 70s are losing bone and muscle mass, which makes them more susceptible to sustaining a serious injury or fracture in the event of a fall, Gill added.

Seventies is the pivotal decade for physical functioning, said Kritchevsky. Toward the end of their 70s, many people start to lose height, strength and weight. Some people report problems with mobility, he said, as they develop issues in their hips, knees or feet.

Most older people—including those in their 90s and beyond—are more satisfied with their lives than younger people are. 

At the same time, roughly half of men age 75 and older experience some sort of hearing impairment, compared with about 40 percent of women, said Kritchevsky, referring to a 2016 report from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. 

Another conundrum common to the 70s: people tend to take an increasing number of medications used for “preventive” reasons. But these medications are likely to have side effects on their own or in combination, not all of which are predictable, said Gill. “Our kidneys and liver may not tolerate the meds as well as we did earlier in life,” he said.

Perhaps the biggest emotional impact of reaching age 70 is figuring out what to do with your time. Most people have retired by age 70, said Reuben, “and the biggest challenge is to make your life as meaningful as it was when you were working.”

The 80s: Fear of Falling Grows

Fear of falling—and the emotional and physical blowback from a fall—are part of turning 80.

If you are in your 80s and living at home, the chance that you might fall in a given year grows more likely, said Kritchevsky. About 40 percent of folks 65 and up who are living at home will fall at least once each year, and about 1 in 40 of them will be hospitalized, he said, citing a study from the UCLA School of Medicine and Geriatric Research Education and Clinical Center. The study notes that the risk increases with age, making people in their 80s even more vulnerable.

By age 80, folks are more likely to spend time in the hospital—often due to elective procedures such as hip or knee replacements, said Gill, basing this on his own observations as a geriatric specialist. Because of diminished reserve capacities, it’s also tougher to recover from surgery or illnesses in your 80s, he said.

The 90s & Up: Relying on Others

By age 90, people have roughly a one-in-three chance of exhibiting signs of dementia caused by Alzheimer’s disease, said Gill, citing a Rush Institute for Healthy Aging study. The best strategy to fight dementia isn’t mental activity but at least 150 minutes per week of “moderate” physical activity, he said. It can be as simple as brisk walking.

At the same time, most older people—even into their 90s and beyond—seem to be more satisfied with their lives than are younger people, said Kritchevsky.

At 93, Joseph Brown understands this—despite the many challenges he faces daily. “I just feel I’m blessed to be living longer than the average Joe,” he said.

Brown lives with his 81-year-old companion, Marva Grate, in the same, single-family home that Brown has owned for 50 years in Hamden, CT. The toughest thing about being in his 90s, he said, is the time and thought often required to do even the simplest things. “It’s frustrating at times to find that you can’t do the things you used to do very easily,” he said. “Then, you start to question your mind and wonder if it’s operating the way it should.”

Brown, a former maintenance worker who turned 85 in May, said he gets tired—and out of breath—very quickly from physical activity.

He spends ample time working on puzzle books, reading and sitting on the deck, enjoying the trees and flowers. Brown said no one can really tell anyone else what “normal” aging is.

Nor does he claim to know himself. “We all age differently,” he said.

Brown said he doesn’t worry about it, though. “Before the Man Upstairs decides to call me, I plan to disconnect the phone.”

KHN’s coverage of these topics is supported by John A. Hartford Foundation, Gordon and Betty Moor Foundation and the Scan Foundation. 

Medical Students Learn How to Talk to Patients about Dying

They’re taught how to deliver bad news with compassion—or admit a mistake
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Doctors are usually taught very little about how to deliver bad news to patients and their families, so they often do it badly. JoNel Aleccia describes how one medical school is changing that. She wrote her article for Kaiser Health News (KHN), where she’s a senior correspondent, focusing on aging and end-of-life issues. KHN posted her article on March 13, 2018. It also ran in U.S. News & World Report.

The distraught wife paced the exam room, anxious for someone to come and tell her about her husband. She’d brought him to the emergency department that afternoon when he complained about chest discomfort.

Sophia Hayes, 27, a fourth-year medical student at the Oregon Health & Science University (OHSU), entered with a quiet knock, took a seat and asked the wife to sit too.

Softly and slowly, Hayes explained the unthinkable: the woman’s husband had had a heart attack. His heart stopped. The intensive care team spent 45 minutes trying to save him.

Then Hayes delivered the news dreaded by doctors and family members alike.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she said. “But he died.”

The drama, played out on a recent Friday afternoon, was a scene staffed by actors and recorded by cameras, part of a nerve-wracking exam for Hayes and 143 other would-be doctors. OHSU officials say they’re the first medical students in the United States required to pass a tough, new test in compassionate communication.

By graduation this spring, Hayes and her colleagues must be able to show that, in addition to clinical skills, they know how to admit a medical mistake, deliver a death notice and communicate effectively about other emotionally and ethically fraught issues.

It’s a push started in the last two years by Susan Tolle, MD, director of the OHSU Center for Ethics in Health Care, who wants to improve the way doctors talk to patients, especially in times of crisis.

How Doctors Go Wrong

Tolle has seen doctors who don’t make eye contact, those who spout medical jargon and still others who appear to lack basic compassion for patients and their families.

“They’ll stand in the doorway and say something like, ‘You need to call a funeral home,’” Tolle said.

Part of the problem is that, in the past, aspiring doctors were taught too little, too late about difficult communication and its nuances, said Tolle.

“My generation of faculty were not taught,” she said. “I had history-taking, but it was more about, ‘How long have you had chest pain?’ I did not have [instruction in] how to give bad news.”

Bad news, badly delivered, can have far-reaching effects on family.

At Tolle’s urging, the OHSU officials revamped the medical school curriculum to include new lessons in—and standards for—communication, ethics and professionalism woven through the course work, said Dr. George Mejicano, the senior associate dean for education.

“Most of the emphasis has been on the simplest aspects of communication,” he said. “The whole idea here is, how do you tell someone they have a life-threatening or even a fatal illness? How do you tell someone, ‘I’ve actually made a mistake?’”

OHSU isn’t the only center to focus on communication. All medical schools and residency programs in the United States are required to include specific instruction in communication skills to gain accreditation, according to Lisa Howley, senior director of strategic initiatives and partnerships for the Association of American Medical Colleges, or AAMC. Residents are required to prove competency in order to graduate from training and be eligible for board certification for individual practice. And there’s been a larger effort nationwide to help practicing doctors learn to talk to patients about dying.

But Mark Siegler, MD, director of the MacLean Center for Clinical Medical Ethics at the University of Chicago, who closely follows communication issues, said he believes OHSU’s approach is new.

“So far as I know, there is no other school in the United States that has any such standard,” said Siegler. “No other program has both a teaching effort and an evaluation effort.”

What Happens When Students Fail

Hayes, the OHSU medical student, said she and her fellow students were nervous before the recent exam. But the practice with “standardized patients”—actors trained to portray people undergoing medical care—was crucial to understanding the right way to talk to families in a real-world situation.

“You realize you have this horrible information they don’t have yet,” she said.

Hayes did quite well and passed the test, Tolle said. So did most of the other OHSU medical students. But several—she wouldn’t say exactly how many—will need remedial coaching and testing before graduation.

Some of those students failed to introduce themselves properly or to find out what the family member had already been told, Tolle said. Instead, they bluntly announced they had bad news and quickly added that the patient was dead.

“You watched the screen and it looked like you hit [the spouse] with a truck,” Tolle said. “It comes across as incredibly uncaring.”

Med school faculty will also be offered a chance to learn how to communicate compassionately.

In real life, such botched conversations can have far-reaching effects. Mary George-Whittle was just 24 when her father had emergency, open-heart surgery in 1979. When the surgeon emerged from the operating room to face the family, his message was jarring.

“He blurted out that Dad had died, that he had too little to work with, that Dad’s veins were like working with the veins of a turkey,” recalled George-Whittle, now 63 and retired after a career as a chaplain in Oregon. “He told us he had Dad’s blood all over him.”

Nearly 40 years later, she and her 11 siblings can still remember the shock.

“The impact that that still has is like PTSD,” she said. “The experience gets caught up in how poorly the news was given.”

Changing the Medical Culture

This year’s test is a first step, Tolle said. It will be reviewed and refined for future classes. Students who need help will get it. At the same time, OHSU faculty will be offered sessions to help improve their communication skills so they can model what students are taught.

The long-term goal is to raise the bar across the profession, said Tolle, who’s had some practice shifting paradigms. She’s the co-creator of the Physician Orders for Life-Sustaining Treatment, known as POLST, a document credited with revolutionizing end-of-life instructions across the United States.

In the same way, Tolle said, the culture of communication among doctors can change too, starting with the latest generation.

“Our biggest goal is not to do a kind of ‘gotcha’ thing for the current medical students,” she said. “It’s to find where the pieces are missing.”

KHN’s coverage of these topics is supported by Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation and John A. Hartford Foundation.

Family Caregivers Are Older Than Ever

People in their 60s and 70s are caring for parents who are 80 and up
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Perhaps it was inevitable: with so many people living longer, more and more empty nesters are taking on the care of parents who are frail and ill. Journalist Judith Graham explores what that means for the younger generation in terms of their health, finances and plans for retirement. She wrote her article for Kaiser Health News, and it was posted on KHN’s website on August 23, 2018.

“This won’t go on for very long,” Sharon Hall said to herself when she invited her elderly mother, who’d suffered several small strokes, to live with her.

That was five years ago, just before Hall turned 65 and found herself crossing into older age.

In the intervening years, Hall’s husband was diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia and forced to retire. Neither he nor Hall’s mother, whose memory had deteriorated, could be left alone in the house. Hall had her hands full taking care of both of them, seven days a week.

As life spans lengthen, adult children like Hall in their 60s and 70s are increasingly caring for frail, older parents—something few people plan for.

“When we think of an adult child caring for a parent, what comes to mind is a woman in her late 40s or early 50s,” said Lynn Friss Feinberg, senior strategic policy adviser for AARP’s Public Policy Institute. “But it’s now common for people 20 years older than that to be caring for a parent in their 90s or older.”

A new analysis from the Center for Retirement Research at Boston College is the first to document how often this happens. It found that 10 percent of adults ages 60 to 69 whose parents are alive serve as caregivers, as do 12 percent of adults age 70 and older.

I had plans for my retirement …Instead, I don’t take time off and leave my mother. A big thing I deal with is the loss of my freedom.
–Judy Last

The analysis is based on data from 80,000 interviews (some people were interviewed multiple times) conducted from 1995 to 2010 for the Health and Retirement Study. About 17 percent of adult children care for their parents at some point in their lives, and the likelihood of doing so rises with age, it reports.

That’s because parents who’ve reached their 80s, 90s or higher are more likely to have chronic illnesses and related disabilities and to require assistance, said Alice Zulkarnain, co-author of the study.

Problems Older Caregivers Face

The implications of later-life caregiving are considerable. Turning an elderly parent in bed, helping someone get into a car or waking up at night to provide assistance can be demanding on older bodies, which are more vulnerable and less able to recover from physical strain.

Emotional distress can aggravate this vulnerability. “If older caregivers have health problems themselves and become mentally or emotionally stressed, they’re at a higher risk of dying,” said Richard Schulz, a professor of psychiatry at the University of Pittsburgh, citing a study he published in the Journal of the American Medical Association.

Socially, older caregivers can be even more isolated than younger caregivers. “In your 60s and 70s, you may have recently retired and friends and family members are beginning to get sick or pass away,” said Donna Benton, research associate professor of gerontology and director of the Family Caregiver Support Center at the University of Southern California (USC).

Caregiving at an older age can put hard-earned savings at risk with no possibility of replacing them by re-entering the workforce. Yvonne Kuo, a family care navigator at USC’s caregiver support center, has been helping an 81-year-old woman caring for her 100-year-old mom with vascular dementia in this situation.

“There’s no support from family, and she’s used up her savings getting some paid help. It’s very hard,” Kuo said.

Judy Last, 70, a mother of three adult children and grandmother of six youngsters, lives with her mother, Lillian, 93, in a mobile home park in Boise, ID. Last moved in three years ago, after her mother had a bout of double pneumonia, complicated by a difficult-to-treat bacterial infection that put her in the hospital for eight weeks.

She cared for her parents for years. She didn’t know how to ask for help and no one volunteered it, even when her husband was diagnosed with dementia.

“You don’t know if it’s going to be permanent at the time,” said Last, whose father died of dementia in January 2016 after moving to a memory-care facility. “Mom had asked me several years before if I would be there when she needed help and I told her yes. But I didn’t really understand what I was getting into.”

Feinberg said this isn’t uncommon. “People in their 90s with a disability can live for years with adequate support.”

Last doesn’t find caregiving physically difficult even though she’s had two hip replacements and struggles with arthritis and angina. Her mother has memory problems and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, relies on oxygen, uses a walker, has lost most of her hearing and has poor eyesight.

But things are hard, nonetheless. “I had plans for my retirement: I imagined volunteering and being able to travel as much as my bank account would allow,” Last said. “Instead, I don’t take time off and leave my mother. A big thing I deal with is the loss of my freedom.”

Hall, who’s turning 70 in September and who lives in Cumming, GA, managed her mother’s and husband’s complex needs for years by establishing a strict routine. Monday and Friday they went to a dementia respite program from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. On other days, Hall cooked, shopped, did laundry, helped them with personal tasks, made sure they were well occupied, provided companionship and drove them to medical appointments, as necessary.

“I did not expect this kind of life,” said Hall, who has had two knee replacements and a broken femur. “If someone had told me it would be years caring for my mother and your husband is going to get dementia, I would have said, ‘No, just no.’ But you do what you have to do.”

A few weeks after our conversation, Hall’s mother entered hospice following a diagnosis of aspiration pneumonia and life-threatening swallowing difficulties. Hall said she has welcomed the help of hospice nurses and aides, who ask her at each visit, “Is there anything else you need from us that would make it easier for you?”

Where Caregivers Find Support

Though older caregivers get scant attention, resources are available. Over the years, Hall has shared caregiving ups and downs at CareGiving.com—a significant source of information and comfort. Across the country, local chapters of Area Agencies on Aging run caregiver support programs, as do organizations such as the Caregiver Action Network, the Family Caregiver Alliance, the National Alliance for Caregiving and Parenting Our Parents, an outfit focused on adult children who become caregivers. A helpful list of resources is available here.

Sometimes, caring for a parent can be a decades-long endeavor. In Morehead City, NC, Elizabeth “Lark” Fiore, 67, became the primary caregiver for her parents when they moved around the corner from her, in a mobile home park, in 1999.

“My dad took me for a walk one day and asked if I could look after them as they got older and I said yes. I’m the oldest child and the oldest assumes responsibility,” she said.

For years her father—a difficult man, by Fiore’s account—had heart problems; her mother had a nervous breakdown and a slow, extended recovery. “They wanted me to be in their lives and I wanted to do for them—I’m a Christian—but it was killing me. My heart was in the right place but emotionally, I was a wreck,” Fiore said.

After her father’s death from kidney cancer in 2010, her mother became even more needy, and Fiore found herself spending more time responding to calls for assistance—often about suspected medical emergencies. “My mom had a way of acting as if something was horribly wrong and then it turned out it wasn’t,” she explained.

Fiore’s health isn’t good: she says she has chronic fatigue syndrome and thyroid problems, among other issues. But she didn’t know how to ask for help and no one volunteered it, even when her husband, Robert, was diagnosed six years ago with dementia. “I always expected myself to handle everything,” she said.

Finally, the stress became unbearable last year and Fiore’s mother moved to a senior living community close to Fiore’s 62-year-old sister, 400 miles away. Now, Fiore spends more time attending to her husband’s needs and tries to support her sister as best she can.

“At 90, my mom is healthy as a horse, and I’m glad of that but it’s been a long time caring for her,” she said. “I’ve changed a lot as a result of caregiving: I’m more loving, more aware of people who are suffering. I’ve found out that I am willing to go the extra mile. But I have to admit what I feel is tired—just tired.”

KHN’s coverage of these topics is supported by John A. Hartford Foundation and Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation.

The New Shingles Shot: Much More Effective Than the Old One

If you skip it, you could develop a painful and all-too-common disease
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Shingrix, the new shingles vaccine, is so much better than the old one that medical experts are urging people who have already had the old vaccine to be revaccinated with Shingrix. But will their advice fall on deaf ears? Many older people fail to have the preventive shots that are available to them. Journalist Michelle Andrews digs into the reasons why in this article written for Kaiser Health News (KHN). The article also ran on NPR. KHN posted it on March 20, 2018.

Federal officials have recommended a new vaccine that is more effective than an earlier version at protecting older adults against the painful rash called shingles. But persuading many adults to get this and other recommended vaccines continues to be an uphill battle, physicians and vaccine experts say.

“I’m healthy, I’ll get that when I’m older,” is what adult patients often tell Michael Munger, MD, when he brings up an annual flu shot or a tetanus-diphtheria booster or the new shingles vaccine. Sometimes they put him off by questioning a vaccine’s effectiveness.

“This is not the case with childhood vaccines,” said Munger, a family physician in Overland Park, KS, who is president of the American Academy of Family Physicians. “As parents, we want to make sure our kids are protected. But as adults, we act as if we’re invincible.”

The new schedule for adult vaccines for people age 19 and older was published in February 2018 following a recommendation [the previous] October by the federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices and subsequent approval by the director of the CDC. The most significant change was to recommend the shingles vaccine that was approved by the Food and Drug Administration last fall, over an older version of the vaccine.

As you age, you’re more likely to develop shingles, and it’s more likely to create chronic problems for you.

The new vaccine, Shingrix, should be given in two doses between two and six months apart to adults who are at least 50 years old. The older vaccine, Zostavax, can still be given to adults who are 60 or older, but Shingrix is preferred, according to the CDC. In clinical trials, Shingrix was 96.6 percent effective in adults ages 50 to 59, while Zostavax was 70 percent effective. The differences were even more marked with age: effectiveness in adults 70 and older was 91.3 percent for Shingrix, compared with 38 percent for Zostavax. Shingrix also provided longer-lasting protection than Zostavax, whose effectiveness waned after the first year.

The guidelines suggest that people who already had the Zostavax shot be revaccinated with Shingrix.

The two-shot series of Shingrix costs about $280, while Zostavax runs $213.

“What’s remarkable [about the new vaccine] is that the high level of immunity persists even in the very old,” said Anne Louise Oaklander, MD, PhD, a neurologist who is an expert on shingles. “It’s pretty hard to get the immune system of older people excited about anything.”

Shingles is caused by the same varicella-zoster virus that causes chickenpox. The virus can re-emerge decades after someone recovers from chickenpox, often causing a painful rash that may burn or itch for weeks before it subsides. About one in three Americans will get shingles during their lifetime; there are roughly one million cases every year. People are more likely to develop shingles as they age, as well as develop complications like postherpetic neuralgia, which can cause severe, long-standing pain after the shingles rash has disappeared. In rare cases, shingles can lead to blindness, hearing loss or death.

Why Don’t More Older People Get Recommended Shots?

Although shingles vaccination rates have inched upward in recent years, only a third of adults who were 60 or older received the Zostavax vaccine in 2016.

Other adult vaccine coverage rates are low as well: 45 percent for the flu vaccine and 23 percent each for pneumococcal and tetanus-diphtheria-pertussis vaccines.

In contrast, by the time children are three years old, typically more than 80 percent of kids, and frequently more than 90 percent, have received their recommended vaccines.

What gives? Cost can be a big deterrent for adult vaccines. The federal Vaccines for Children program helps parents whose kids are eligible for Medicaid or are uninsured cover the cost of vaccines up to age 19.

Adults with private insurance who get vaccines recommended by the CDC also are sheltered from high costs because the shots must be covered by most commercial plans without charging consumers anything out-of-pocket, under a provision of the Affordable Care Act. Patients, however, should confirm their coverage before requesting the new shingles vaccine, because insurers typically add new vaccines gradually to their formularies after they have been added to the recommended list, and consumers may need to wait a little while for coverage.

Older adults sometimes lose track of which vaccines they’ve had, and sometimes there’s no record of what they’ve been given.  

But vaccine coverage under the Medicare program for people age 65 and older is much less comprehensive. Vaccines to prevent influenza and pneumonia are covered without a copayment under Medicare Part B, which covers outpatient care.

Other vaccines, including the shingles vaccine, are typically covered under Part D drug plans, which may leave some beneficiaries on the hook for all or part of the cost of the two-shot series.

That can pose a significant problem for patients. “Not every Medicare beneficiary elects Part D, and even if you do, some have deductibles and copayments,” said William Schaffner, MD, an infectious-diseases specialist at Vanderbilt University School of Medicine.

Even if adults want to get recommended vaccines, they sometimes lose track of which they have received and when. Pediatricians routinely report the vaccines they provide to state or city vaccination registries that electronically collect and consolidate the information. But the registries are not widely used for adults, who are more likely to get vaccines at various locations, such as a pharmacy or at work, for example.

“I’m always asking patients, ‘Did you get all the doses in the series?’ ‘Where did you get them?’” said Laura Riley, MD, vice chair of obstetrics at Boston’s Massachusetts General Hospital, who is a member of the Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices. “It can be very challenging to track.”

What Spirituality Means to Older People

It can provide a sense of purpose and connection—and a great deal more
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This is part 1 in our series on spirituality and aging. Read part 2 here.

For many years, the Catholic faith was central to Debra Cook’s life. She grew up in a Catholic family, sent her children to Catholic schools and was an active leader in her parish. 

But now Cook, 65, of Dallas, finds herself looking beyond the walls of her church as she gets older. In recent years, her parish shifted toward a more conservative understanding of Catholicism; meanwhile, Cook’s beliefs have become increasingly more expansive.

She stopped going to mass every week, a step that once would’ve been unthinkable. Instead, she spends an hour outdoors early each morning, quietly observing nature. Cook completed an ecumenical Christian formation program that prepares participants as spiritual leaders or spiritual directors. This fall, she’ll lead a study program called the Soul of Aging, which deals with issues involved with aging but offers no specific religious doctrine.

 “I still view myself as a Jesus follower,” she said. “But my view of God has gotten so much bigger. I’ve realized there’s more out there that I don’t understand.”

Like Cook, many older adults say spirituality is an essential source of wisdom and guidance that not only helps them to cope with the challenges of aging but also to live more consciously, with a sense of wholeness and purpose.  

“Older people want meaning,” said Michael Gurian, author of The Wonder of Aging: A New Approach to Embracing Life After Fifty (2013). As people live longer lives, “we have the freedom now, in a miraculous second lifetime, to soul-search and soul-find.”

Spirituality, he adds, can help people cultivate the “realistic optimism” that will help them better navigate later life.  

Spiritual but Not Religious

The assumption that people become more religious as they age and confront their mortality is generally regarded as a myth among professionals who work with older adults, according to Holly Nelson-Becker, author of Spirituality, Religion and Aging: Illuminations for Therapeutic Practice (2018). Similarly, there’s no research that suggests an overall trend of people becoming more spiritual as they age. Older adults do represent the most religious demographic group in the United States, but Nelson-Becker suspects that’s because members of the older generations grew up when it was more common for people to participate in an organized religion.  

“What we do know is that people’s religious and spiritual trajectories change over time in many ways,” Nelson-Becker said. “People get enthusiastic, motivated, discouraged, and become more spiritual, more religious, less so, and otherwise in and out.”  

Some, like Cook, find themselves veering away from religion and into a growing segment of the population that demographers call the “SBNRs”—spiritual, but not religious. Defining exactly what that means, however, has posed a challenge.

‘Spirituality’ means different things to different people.

“Religion includes ethical principles, rituals, beliefs and practices, transmitted over time and shared by a community,” said Nelson-Becker. “The definitions of spirituality vary far more widely. Spirituality is a somewhat fuzzy concept that means different things to different people.”  

Nelson-Becker was part of an interdisciplinary team of 50 experts that developed standards of spiritual care in palliative care. They hammered out this definition: “Spirituality is the aspect of humanity that refers to the way individuals seek and express meaning and purpose and the way they experience their connectedness to the moment, to self, to others, to nature, and to the significant or sacred.”  

Life Changes Spur Shifts

Many who embrace spirituality later in life say they were spurred at least in part by changes in their life circumstances. After retirement, or a shift to part-time work, or fewer family responsibilities, they have more time for reflection.

“When you’re in your 30s, it’s all about go, go, go and get, get, get,” said Debby Thomas, 67, a real estate agent in Garland, TX. “Once you get older, those are not necessarily your top priorities.”

Thomas grew up in a Protestant church and converted to Judaism when she married in her 20s. When her marriage ended, she fell away from religion entirely. In her mid-50s, she discovered Unity Church of Dallas, a New Thought church that prescribes no doctrine but views Christian teachings as a practical path to health and happiness.

Thomas believes that maturity makes her more accepting and open to new ways of expressing her spiritual beliefs.

“When I was young, I was too busy arguing with [the church’s] dogma,” she said. “When you get older, you make it more personal, rather than trying to change the world to match your beliefs.”

Foundation for Living Longer and Healthier

One nationwide study of more than 1,000 obituaries found that people with religious affiliations lived nearly four years longer than those with no ties to religion, even after adjusting for other factors, such as gender and marital status. But researchers caution that it’s virtually impossible to separate the benefits of religion from related factors, such as the social connections among people in faith communities.

Anne Sadovsky, 77, is clear that the social and the spiritual, together, have enriched her life. A motivational speaker and real estate expert in Dallas, she’s benefited from the social support of “the Dalai Mamas,” a prayer circle of seven older women, ages 62-78, that’s been together for more than 10 years.

The women meet for birthdays and holidays, but the glue that bonds them is prayer. Via email, they share prayer requests for themselves and others. Often, they will schedule a time when they all pray at once, wherever they are, for a specific need. Originally the women met at Unity Church of Dallas, where Sadovsky is a member, but the group stayed together even after some moved to other churches.

“When the husband of one of the women died, we were all right there,” Sadovsky said. “I had major back surgery, and they were there for me. One stayed with me at the rehab facility and gave me my first shower after surgery.”    

Each woman prays according to her own understanding, Sadvosky said, but following Unity principles, they don’t see prayer as “begging or pleading” so much as a way to connect with divine energy.

“It’s a very powerful, loving support group,” she said. “Word has spread that our prayers are powerful; people we don’t even know will [ask for prayers].”

Some spiritual practices may have health benefits. Meditation, for example, may help reduce blood pressure.

Being a part of a group like the Dalai Mamas may have a positive impact on health. While the number of studies examining the links between religion, spirituality and health is mushrooming, according to Nelson-Becker, “The findings are difficult to align because they look at different factors, control for different factors, and ask slightly different questions.” While there appears to be a correlation, there’s no proof of a cause-and-effect relationship.

Some spiritual traditions do explicitly encourage adherents to avoid unhealthy behaviors. In exploring longevity hotspots, Dan Buettner identified a community of centenarians in Loma Linda, CA, in his book, The Blue Zones: Lessons for Living Longer From the People Who’ve Lived the Longest (2008). Many were Seventh Day Adventists, who don’t smoke, follow a plant-based diet, exercise regularly and maintain a normal body weight.  

Research also suggests that some specific spiritual practices, such as yoga, and meditation or prayer, may have health benefits. Meditation, for example, may help reduce blood pressure or relieve some menopausal symptoms, like hot flashes.

The Wonder of Aging author Gurian, 65, spends an hour each morning meditating in nature. He’s a practicing Jew but has lived around the world, and his spirituality draws on elements of many other religions, including Baha’i, Hinduism, Unitarianism and Christianity.  

“I think genuine happiness can come from having a spiritual practice,” he said. “As mind and body connect, that helps some people to end an addiction or to eat more healthfully. Also, there is something happening in the brain as people do spiritual practices. Spiritual practices direct more blood toward the temporal lobe, and that is good for de-stressing.”

Art as Spiritual Practice

Spiritual expression can range from communal activities like worship, scripture study or prayer, to personal practices such as journaling, meditating or spending time in nature.  

For Donna Bearden, 71, her spiritual practice centers on art and learning. She’s married to a retired United Methodist pastor but describes herself as spiritual but not religious.

“My spirituality could not develop within the church,” she said. “I believe a spiritual journey has to involve doubt, searching, asking hard questions. I couldn’t ask those questions without raising eyebrows.”

Bearden expresses her spirituality through art, writing and photography. She starts each morning writing in a journal and often heads outside with camera in hand. She’s fascinated by mandalas—a circular symbol in Hinduism and Buddhism that represents the universe—and creates them with the photos she’s taken.

“There is a zone artists and poets and other creatives talk about, the idea that words or an artist’s creation comes not from them but through them,” she said. “I have felt that zone, that connection to something greater than I.”

A Sense of Purpose

If there’s a link between spirituality and longevity, it might be ikigai (“what makes one’s life meaningful”), a Japanese term that Buettner cites in his work. Many faiths teach concepts of intrinsic human purpose that don’t require a youthful body or a sharp intellect: tikkun olam, the Jewish calling to repair the world; the Christian teaching of serving others; or the Buddhist idea of the bodhisattva, a person who chooses to strive for Buddhahood for the benefit of all sentient beings. Spiritual practices, such as meditation, can help people clarify and focus on their sense of higher calling.

Spirituality can also help older people turn outward when loss or physical limitations could easily spur them to turn inward, according to Missy Buchanan, author of Living with Purpose in a Worn-Out Body: Spiritual Encouragement for Older Adults (2008).  

“It’s the belief that ‘I’m here for a reason,’” Buchanan said. “Maybe I hurt today, but I can still do something good for somebody.”

For Cook, her work as a spiritual group leader provides a new sense of purpose and direction. In earlier years, she focused on career, raising kids, status and money—her family once lived in an 8,400 square foot home (“Isn’t that ridiculous?” she said). Those things don’t define her anymore.

“Now it’s about living a life in accord with who I was created to be,” she said. “The work I’m doing in spirituality is life-giving.”

At Death’s Door, Shedding Light on How to Live

Ronni Bennett, who blogs about aging, records her thoughts and emotions as she grapples with a terminal illness
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In a moving interview, Bennett describes what’s it like to be told you’re dying of cancer. Talking with journalist Judith Graham of Kaiser Health News (KHN), she discusses how knowing that she’s terminally ill has changed her, how she’s coping and why she’s sharing her reactions and the final chapter of her life with the many people who regularly read her blog. This article was developed in part with support from the Silver Century Foundation. KHN posted it on November 8, 2018.

Nothing so alters a person as learning you have a terminal illness.

Ronni Bennett, who writes a popular blog about aging, discovered that recently when she heard that cancer had metastasized to her lungs and her peritoneum (a membrane that lines the cavity of the abdomen).

There is no cure for your condition, Bennett was told by doctors, who estimated she might have six to eight months of good health before symptoms began to appear.

Right then and there, this 77-year-old resolved to start doing things differently—something many people might be inclined to do in a similar situation.

No more extended exercise routines every morning, a try-to-stay-healthy activity that Bennett had forced herself to adopt but disliked intensely.

No more watching her diet, which had allowed her to shed 40 pounds several years ago and keep the weight off, with considerable effort.

No more worrying about whether memory lapses were normal or an early sign of dementia—an irrelevant issue now.

No more pretending that the cliché “we’re all terminal” (since death awaits all of us) is especially insightful. This abstraction has nothing to do with the reality of knowing, in your gut, that your own death is imminent, Bennett realized.

“It colors everything,” she told me in a long and wide-ranging conversation recently. “I’ve always lived tentatively, but I’m not anymore because the worst has happened—I’ve been told I’m going to die.”

No more listening to medical advice from friends and acquaintances, however well-intentioned. Bennett has complete trust in her medical team at Oregon Health & Science University, which has treated her since diagnosing pancreatic cancer last year. She’s done with responding politely to people who think they know better, she said.

And no more worrying, even for a minute, what anyone thinks of her. As Bennett wrote in a recent blog post, “All kinds of things … fall away at just about the exact moment the doctor says, ‘There is no treatment.’”

Four or five times a day, a wave of crushing fear washes through her, Bennett told me. She breathes deeply and lets it pass. And no, psychotherapy isn’t something she wants to consider.

“What has been most helpful and touched me most are the friends who are willing to let me talk about this.”

–Ronni Bennett

Instead, she’ll feel whatever it is she needs to feel—and learn from it. This is how she wants to approach death, Bennett said: alert, aware, lucid. “Dying is the last great adventure we have—the last bit of life—and I want to experience it as it happens,” she said.

Writing is, for Bennett, a necessity, the thing she wants to do more than anything during this last stage of her life. For decades, it’s been her way of understanding the world—and herself.

In a notebook, Bennett has been jotting down thoughts and feelings as they come to her. Some she already has shared in a series of blog posts about her illness. Some she’s saving for the future.

There are questions she hasn’t figured out how to answer yet.

“Can I still watch trashy TV shows?”

“How do I choose what books to read, given that my time is finite?

“What do I think about [rational] suicide?” (Physician-assisted death is an option in Oregon, where Bennett lives.)

Along with her “I’m done with that” list, Bennett has a list of what she wants to embrace.

Ice cream and cheese, her favorite foods.

Walks in the park near her home.

Get-togethers with her public affairs discussion group.

A romp with kittens or puppies licking her and making her laugh.

A sense of normalcy, for as long as possible. “What I want is my life, very close to what it is,” she explained.

Deep conversations with friends. “What has been most helpful and touched me most are the friends who are willing to let me talk about this,” she said.

Dozens of readers have responded with shock, sadness and gratitude for Bennett’s honesty.

On her blog, she has invited readers to “ask any questions at all” and made it clear she welcomes frank communication.

“I’m new to this—this dying thing—and there’s no instruction book. I’m kind of fascinated by what you do with yourself during this period, and questions help me figure out what I think,” she told me.

Recently, a reader asked Bennett if she was angry about her cancer. No, Bennett answered. “Early on, I read about some cancer patients who get hung up on ‘why me?’ My response was ‘why not me?’ Most of my family died of cancer, and 40 percent of all Americans will have some form of cancer during their lives.”

Dozens of readers have responded with shock, sadness and gratitude for Bennett’s honesty about subjects that usually aren’t discussed in public.

“Because she’s writing about her own experiences in detail and telling people how she feels, people are opening up and relaying their experiences—things that maybe they’ve never said to anyone before,” Millie Garfield, 93, a devoted reader and friend of Bennett’s, told me in a phone conversation.

Garfield’s parents never talked about illness and death the way Bennett is doing. “I didn’t have this close communication with them, and they never opened up to me about all the things Ronni is talking about,” she said.

For the last year, Bennett and her former husband, Alex Bennett, have broadcast video conversations every few weeks over YouTube. (He lives across the country in New York City.) “What you’ve written will be valuable as a document of somebody’s life and how to leave it,” he told her recently as they talked about her condition with poignancy and laughter.

Other people may have very different perspectives as they take stock of their lives upon learning they have a terminal illness. Some may not want to share their innermost thoughts and feelings; others may do so willingly or if they feel other people really want to listen.

During the past 15 years, Bennett chose to live her life out loud through her blog. For the moment, she’s as committed as ever to doing that.

“There’s very little about dying from the point of view of someone who’s living that experience,” she said. “This is one of the very big deals of aging and, absolutely, I’ll keep writing about this as long as I want to or can.”

KHN’s coverage of these topics is supported by John A. Hartford Foundation, Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation and The Silver Century Foundation.

Many Women Are Defying the Bully: the Antiaging Industry

They’re keeping the gray and tuning out the antiaging hype
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At age 57, Victoria Marie sports a full head of long, lustrous gray hair—in the city of Los Angeles, as an actress, in an industry where youth is life. “This is who I am,” she says. “Take it or leave it.”

Across the country, in North Carolina, Martha Truslow Smith embraces her premature gray—at age 26. “I never want to pick up a bottle of dye again,” says the graphic designer.

With its ubiquitous hair dyes, creams, injectables and surgeries, the antiaging industry is a multibillion-dollar field. Yet more and more women are declaring they’re done with it. They’re done with being told aging is shameful. They’re done with spending money, time and effort to hide signs of aging—particularly gray hair. And some of them insist this anti-antiaging trend is here to stay, despite a bevy of naysayers.

The Visible Rebellion

Truslow Smith found her first gray hair at age 14. By the time she was in college, she was dyeing her hair and feeling embarrassed by her gray roots.

The cycle of dye-and-shame was “a slow, quiet monster that developed in my life that I didn’t allow myself to really acknowledge,” she says.

At age 24, she decided to face it. She was in a relationship and realized she wasn’t truly being herself. She was hiding a ball of stress from a man she wanted to marry. So in the summer of 2016, Truslow Smith stopped dyeing her hair—and started an Instagram account called Grombre to chart her growing-out process and to build a supportive community. She invited people who celebrated silver to message her and be featured on the account.

In July 2018, the account had about 7,000 followers. Then Refinery29, a women-focused online outlet, wrote an article about it, followed by BBC News and other media organizations (unsolicited). Now, Grombre has about 46,000 followers and almost 1,000 posts featuring women of all ages. And Truslow Smith (now married to the aforementioned gent, who “loves” her hair) gets so many emails from women wanting to tell their stories that she can’t possibly feature them all.

Women who decide to go gray naturally say they’re tired of dyeing. And then there’s the double standard: on men, gray hair is considered distinguished.

She’s found the massive interest surprising and wonderful. “It’s a change I would like to see in the world—to have women feel like, if they don’t want to dye their hair, then they shouldn’t be obligated to do so.”

For her part, Victoria Marie feels no such obligation. In the summer of 2013, when she was in her early 50s, she uploaded a video to YouTube about her gray roots. She was recovering from a series of bad dye jobs and had decided to let her gray hair grow in fully, like she used to have it. She titled the video, “Gray Is the New Blonde!”

Women started emailing her—excited to tell her how much they related to what she was saying. “I thought, ‘This is interesting. People care about gray hair? How bizarre.’ I had no idea,” she says. Many told her they were letting their gray hair grow in too.

Now, in 2018, Marie is preparing to release her first documentary, Gray Is the New Blonde, which profiles women who have decided to go gray. The film’s Facebook page has about 13,000 followers.

“Women are saying, ‘I’m here, and this is my path, and take it or leave it. I’m not going to shrink to societal pressures anymore and feel like I’m not worth anything unless I do. I’m very worth something, with gray hair and all.’”

Who Goes Gray

Both Truslow Smith and Marie say the most common reason women decide to gray naturally is they’re tired of the dye process. “They are just fed up with this every two to three weeks of having to go get their hair done,” says Marie. “And it’s no longer fun like it was when we were in our 20s and 30s. It’s a requirement now.”

Many cite the double standard—that gray hair on men is usually considered distinguished. They decide, “What’s wrong with my gray hair? It looks good!” she says.

Some women also stop dyeing their hair for health reasons—for example, if they’ve had cancer and want to avoid the chemicals.

One woman told Truslow Smith, “I lost my son, and he will never have the chance to go gray.”

“It’s a combination of women kind of being fed up with being bullied [by antiaging marketing messages] and realizing that there is so much more to life—that we only have so much energy; why are we spending it on things that at the end of the day don’t totally matter?” Truslow Smith says.

But another common theme among these women is fear. In a culture that values women for their looks and equates beauty with youth, women who are considering going gray are often afraid they’ll be rejected—for work, by potential romantic partners, by family members, even by strangers. And many times, those fears are realized.

“A lot of people get a lot of negative comments and feedback and pushback,” Marie says. She knows of one woman in her 30s who was in a training class for administrative work. “She’s got great features, and she looks so chic, but that male instructor shamed her verbally in front of everyone in the class and said, ‘You’re not going to get hired if you don’t go and dye your hair,’ and brought her to tears.”

When Marie started growing her gray out, one of her friends pressured her to dye it, to the point that he offered to cover the cost. Later, she realized his protests were actually related to how he viewed his own aging. “Typically that’s what it’s about,” she says. “It’s not about the person who’s decided to go gray. It’s about the person who’s saying to them, ‘You should go dye your hair.’ It’s because of their own fears and their own insecurities about the aging process.”

Women who do go gray despite any negative pressures tell Marie they have one regret: they wish they’d done it sooner. “Women say over and over again, they did not expect to feel so empowered, so authentic,” Marie says. “They feel fierce, they feel strong, they feel powerful. And they’re rockin’ it.” For that reason, she believes, this trend is no fad. “It is a movement, and it’s not going away.”

Wrinkles: to Fight or Not to Fight

Gray hair is one thing. Wrinkles? That’s another matter. If a woman goes gray and doesn’t like it, it’s easy enough to dye her hair back. Wrinkles are harder to get rid of.

Even women who go naturally gray aren’t always so gung-ho about ditching antiwrinkle creams—despite the fact that scientists and dermatologists say most such creams don’t work.

Often, it boils down to fear of regret, says Abigail Brooks, author of The Ways Women Age: Using and Refusing Cosmetic Intervention (2017). They’re afraid they’ll end up looking older than their friends who use antiaging creams and procedures. And they also face some guilt.

Per pervasive marketing messages, “to age well, particularly as a woman, means that you should be fighting aging every step of the way,” Brooks says. The idea is, “this product gives you the power to fight back, and therefore you should say yes to that fight.”

The antiaging industry itself is ready to embrace aging at least partially—or it wants to sound as if it is.

For her book, Brooks did find women who were refusing antiaging creams and procedures. And she discovered a main commonality: they accepted aging as a natural process that didn’t need fixing.

“They actually talked about being able to understand the wrinkles and the sags and the bags and the gray hair as beautiful, just in different ways from how a young, wrinkle-free female face might look,” she says. They saw these signs of aging as “reflective of lived experience and actions taken and thoughts had and emotions felt. And they thought that that was a really interesting kind of beauty.”

Many women also said they were less focused on attracting male attention. “It’s like they’ve moved beyond that cultural expectation of the reproductive-vessel-slash-sex object, and that allows them this whole new, exciting phase of life,” Brooks says. “They feel like, I’m going to feel empowered to focus more on my mind now or more on other aspects of what I always have wanted to do.”

On the other hand, when Brooks interviewed women who did use antiaging creams and procedures, she found that they equated beauty with youth. Age-related changes “made them feel like their bodies were outside of their control,” Brooks says. Some “talked about needing to look younger to continue to be viable in their workplaces.” Others wanted to find a new male partner.

These women told Brooks that unlike men, they had to look younger to be taken seriously. “I think we have to say, but is that really OK?” Brooks says. “Is that where we want to be?”

The Antiaging Market

As the number of older Americans has increased, so has rebellion against antiaging marketing, with people asking why signs of aging must be hidden or “fixed” or “treated.”

In the summer of 2017, the beauty magazine, Allure, declared it would stop using the term antiaging altogether. “I hope we can all get to a point where we recognize that beauty is not something just for the young,” wrote editor-in-chief Michelle Lee in a letter from the editor—while also clarifying, “no one is suggesting giving up retinol” (probably the best-studied antiaging ingredient).

The antiaging industry itself is on board with this embrace-aging-to-some-extent idea too. Or, at least, it wants to sound like it is.

“We’re not anti-aging, we’re anti-wrinkles,” declares Neutrogena (whose Healthy Skin Anti-Wrinkle cream is marketed to “treat” wrinkles “and other signs of aging”).

In a CoverGirl television ad, model Maye Musk muses, “They say at a certain age, you just stop caring. I wonder what age that is” (as she applies a foundation that “reduces the look of wrinkles” and a graphic notes she’s “70 years young”).

Antiaging marketing has largely evolved from “aging is a problem” to the supposedly more empowering, “you are the solution.” Take charge, the ads declare. Fight! Nurture yourself!

In some ways, the revised messaging is a welcome change, says Brooks, who is director of the women’s studies program at Providence College in Rhode Island. But in other ways, it continues to reinforce the mindset that looking your best means looking as young as possible.

Nonetheless—and despite the fact that many women are shunning these products—the marketing seems to be working pretty well. Statistics about the size of the antiaging market vary widely, in part because they don’t all include the same sectors (such as cosmetics, cosmeceuticals, pharmaceuticals, exercise equipment, surgeries, even perfumes touted to make women smell younger). Estimates range from under $100 billion to more than $300 billion. But the general consensus is, the market is huge, and it’s growing.

Some of that growth is due to the fact that the industry has diversified its target audience, points out Toni Calasanti, a sociology professor at Virginia Tech who specializes in gender and aging. “More and more people are getting pulled in and at younger and younger ages,” she says. Women in their 20s are now key antiaging targets—as are men. “There are some gender differences, but the similarity across all groups is, we need to not look old.”

Aging with Freedom

Women who eschew antiaging products and procedures “talk to me in so many interesting and exciting ways about new room for growth, for freedom, for exploration and even liberation with age,” Brooks says. “They feel like now they can move into new avenues where they have more room for self-development or self-expression.”

Truslow Smith has a similar take. “I’m getting the sense that women who are embracing their gray hair are entering a new chapter of life that is unexpected, and they’re finding a new sort of love and contentment with themselves.”

Both Truslow Smith and Marie emphasize that they’re not suggesting it’s bad for a woman to dye her hair. They just want women to have a viable choice.

“We operate within beauty standards that have been a big bully,” Truslow Smith says. At 26, she recognizes that as the years go by, she’ll develop a lot more wrinkles, gray strands and other signs of aging. “Am I going to choose to believe that my value is decreasing as I’m getting older? Or am I going to choose to absolutely love myself and my full potential—and walk my path the way that I feel called to walk?” Self-acceptance, Truslow Smith says, “is a revelation that is not expressed within any sort of beauty advertisement—that women are claiming for themselves.”

Bucking Ageism in Philanthropy

Five Organizations That Make Older People’s Lives Easier
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This is part 2 in our series on aging-related philanthropy. Read part 1 here.

There are a lot of problems in the United States.

Take the fact that our country is aging. By 2035, Americans 65 and older will outnumber kids for the first time in our history, according to the US Census Bureau.

The fact that we see that as a problem, not an opportunity, is a problem.

The fact that we haven’t made adjustments to this reality—in health care, government programs, cultural mind-set and practical accessibility—is a problem.

There are lots of problems.

But there are also charitable organizations standing in the gap right now, as our country—and our world—scramble to catch up with the new demographic reality. They’re helping older people, creating innovative solutions and leveraging the benefits of an aging America.

Yet, despite the fact that 15 percent (and growing) of Americans are 65 or older, only a small amount of money from grant-making foundations—perhaps less than 1 percent—goes to aging-focused initiatives.

Nonetheless, some aging-related charities are raising money and making significant impacts across the nation. Here are five of them—and what their leaders think about the philanthropic landscape.

Encore.org

“While many see our aging society as a problem, we view it as a solution,” says Encore.org’s website. “For the first time in history, many of us have an extra 20 or 30 ‘bonus’ years of active, healthy life, after having developed extensive skills, knowledge and life experience.”

Through specialized programs, Encore.org connects such people with volunteer and work opportunities that address social issues—especially those related to young people and their futures.

The Encore campaign that’s generated the most interest from grant-making foundations is Generation to Generation, which connects people over 50 with nonprofits that help kids.

“The campaign, which now includes 140 nonprofits, can help young people thrive in all kinds of ways, from literacy to job training,” Encore.org’s founder and CEO, Marc Freedman, wrote in an email interview. The program can also help fight loneliness at both ends of the age spectrum.

But why has it, in particular, drawn such keen interest? “Perhaps the potential of cross-generational unity in these divisive, kids-versus-canes times is an appealing tonic,” Freedman theorized.

Through another of Encore.org’s programs, Encore Fellowships, skilled people who want to transition to a career in the nonprofit sector are placed in short-term assignments with charitable organizations. These fellows are paid for their work, though relatively little.

“The organizations benefit unbelievably,” says Paul Irving, chairman of the board for Encore.org. “You can imagine having somebody who was a chief financial officer, or a general counsel, of a major company, who now goes into a small nonprofit and helps that nonprofit survive and sustain and elevate. And the people who do it find incredible joy in the work, and a new sense of meaning, and a sense of the possibilities of their longer lives.”

Over the years, Encore.org has managed to land grants for various projects from a number of foundations.

“I would hardly say it’s been easy,” Freedman wrote, acknowledging that there’s ageism in philanthropy just like everywhere else. “We have to make older generations standing up for and with younger ones the norm in later life—and that’s going to take innovation, investment, an army of activists and years of hard work. It’s the only way to make this more-old-than-young world work for all generations.”

The Green House Project

Most anyone who works in long term care today knows about the Green House Project—a person-centered, nursing home model with around 250 member homes in 33 states. But in 2005, there was just one Green House in one Mississippi town.

That’s when the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation stepped in with a five-year, $10 million, replication grant to launch such homes across the country.

“I don’t know what we would have ever done without their support,” says Susan Ryan, senior director of the Green House Project. “Robert Wood Johnson recognized that if ever there was a field that needed this transformation, it was this field. And the model certainly offered promise.”

The Green House Project helps organizations, which pay a technical-assistance fee, develop home-like, family-centered nursing homes, in lieu of traditional hospital-like facilities. Green House homes are small—with just 10 to 12 people living in their own private rooms. These homes have open-access kitchens and living rooms. And respectful care is prioritized: each resident is to be treated as a unique human and afforded appropriate autonomy.

Ryan came to Green House after spending years working to keep people out of nursing homes. She’d seen firsthand how they worked. When she was director of nursing at one in the ’80s, tying people to their beds and chairs to prevent falls was considered best practice, she explains. “I knew in my heart of hearts, this is wrong; this is dreadfully wrong.” (Today, such liberal use of restraints is illegal.)

So in 2001, she transitioned to home care and worked in her community to come up with creative solutions. But by 2008, she saw promise in the Green House Project, and she joined the company as senior director.

On TV, you don’t see anybody raising money who’s the poster child for problems that affect older people.

“Green House is not just a small-house movement, but it is a movement to deinstitutionalize, destigmatize and humanize care for elders,” Ryan says.

With its $10 million grant, the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation mandated that the Green House Project become a viable, sustainable business, Ryan says.

They’re getting there. Right now, about 75 percent of the general operating budget comes from partner fees. “We don’t want [the] cost to work with us to be a barrier to implementation and adoption of the model,” Ryan says. “So we try to keep our fees at a pretty decent rate.”

Yet even if fees eventually cover 100 percent of the budget, Ryan believes she’ll still seek out grants to help Green House continue to innovate.

Like many other leaders who work with older people, she’d like to see aging-related issues in general supported more—and maybe get a little publicity. “Look at TV. You’re not seeing people raising money for aging issues,” she points out. “Nobody that is aging becomes the poster child for raising money.”

“What we do with every engagement that we have with the Green House partners is to try to create those champions and those advocates,” she says. “Hopefully it starts changing the landscape and foundations could maybe stand up and take notice.”

Health Affairs

While the Green House Project helps shape long term care, home by home, Health Affairs helps shape health care, article by article.

A respected, health-policy journal founded by the nonprofit Project HOPE (Health Opportunities for People Everywhere), Health Affairs publishes papers about ways to improve health care.

And the John A. Hartford Foundation has helped ensure that since 2015, a good portion of those papers highlights innovative care models for older adults.

The grant makers at Hartford chose to support Health Affairs because they knew it had influence, explains George Suttles, Hartford’s program officer for the grant.

“Health Affairs has a long track record of being able to get stories into the hands of practitioners and policy makers on both the state and federal level,” he says. “So when we were thinking about disseminating models of care and best-practice models, Health Affairs seemed to be one of the logical partners,”

It’s very important to us … that we’re not just advancing knowledge but that we’re changing practice and that we’re improving public policies.

–Alan Weil, Editor in Chief, Health Affairs

The two-year grant renewal for 2018 and 2019 calls for at least 10 to 14 articles about geriatric care—plus publicity for the articles and a briefing in Washington, DC, about them.

The John A. Hartford Foundation specializes in “improving the care of older adults,” so its mission happens to match Health Affairs’ well anyway, explains Alan Weil, the journal’s editor in chief.

“Health Affairs is an empirical journal. People are looking for results from experiments or innovations,” he says. “They’re trying to figure out what works and ‘what can we try to do.’ And so [Hartford’s] interest in innovative care-delivery models fits very well with the kind of papers we like to publish—and the kind of papers our readers like to read.”

Over the years, the Hartford-funded series has had influence, says Weil. For example, a 2017 article about an initiative to reduce avoidable, expensive hospitalizations among nursing home residents became the journal’s 10th most read article of the year. It got a lot of publicity, Weil says, which helped make it more likely that the reported efforts would continue—and that more facilities would adopt similar measures.

Health Affairs has also received grants from other foundations to publish aging-related articles. “What’s interesting about aging is that it’s multifaceted,” Weil says, though some facets are easier to get funded than others. It all depends on what a foundation is interested in. “For example, John A. Hartford is very interested in age-friendly hospitals. I don’t know anyone else who’s working in that area,” says Weil.

“It’s very important to us—and it’s very important to the foundations that support us—that we’re not just advancing knowledge but that we’re changing practice and that we’re improving public policies,” Weil says.

ElderHelp of San Diego

Eighty-seven percent of people 65 and older want to remain in their own homes as they age, according to a 2014 AARP report.

ElderHelp of San Diego is working to make that desire a reality.

ElderHelp offers a menu of solutions, including rides and nonmedical in-home aid (such as grocery shopping and safety-bar installation)—all provided by volunteers.

There’s also a home-share program in which people are matched for mutual benefit. For example, a younger person might live with an older person in exchange for doing household chores. The older person gets help and companionship, and the younger person gets a financial leg up in one of the most expensive cities in the United States.

In 2018, California State Senator Toni Atkins named ElderHelp nonprofit of the year in her district.

Because there are no fees for ElderHelp’s services, individual donations and grants keep the organization running. Ninety percent of ElderHelp’s clients are living on low income, says Gretchen Veihl, the organization’s director of philanthropy. “Grant funding is really the backbone of the agency.”

She finds it challenging to locate funders whose priority is older people. “When you’re applying for a grant, seniors are never on a drop-down menu,” she notes. Health, illnesses, education, children may all be there, but rarely older people.

To entice and keep funders, ElderHelp maintains careful documentation of its impact. “For example, we know that ElderHelp clients have 10 percent fewer falls in the home than the average San Diego senior, and 92 percent of our clients feel more safe in their home because they have ElderHelp services,” Veihl says. With this evidence, “people see the value in investing in your agency and feel confident that you’re doing what you say you do and using your dollars well.”

Adopt-a-Native-Elder

Adopt-a-Native-Elder also helps older people remain in their own homes—or, rather, survive there.

The organization provides life-sustaining aid to Navajo elders who have traditionally lived off the land and can no longer do so effectively.

“These elders were self sufficient. They had sheep, they wove their rugs, they were silversmiths,” explains Linda Myers, founder of Adopt-a-Native-Elder. “The problem being what happens when you’re too old to leave, you have to sell your sheep because you can’t take care of them anymore, and you can no longer do silversmithing.”

And you live with no running water or electricity—where, in some areas, of the 27,000-square-mile reservation, temperatures can plunge well below zero. “It’s a third-world country within our own United States,” Myers says.

Adopt-a-Native-Elder provides essentials such as food, medical supplies and firewood to about 570 elders who live on the Navajo Nation reservation in Utah and Arizona. The elders are 75 and older—sometimes much older. “I had a 116- and a 114-year-old elder,” Myers says. They have no pensions and don’t receive enough Social Security to survive on.

Their families, the reservation and state governments try to help, but there’s not enough money to go around. “Many of their children, because they take care of the elders, live a very impoverished lifestyle,” Myers says.

Providing something as simple as firewood can save lives. “If you’re elderly and you don’t have electricity, it can be pretty cold,” Myers explains. “If they don’t have wood, then they freeze to death.”

In March 2017, CNN profiled Myers as a “CNN Hero” for the difference she’s making. But even heroes struggle. In particular, Myers has had trouble getting interest from foundations.

We found children [cared for by] elders quite often—and very old elders who didn’t have vehicles and didn’t drive.

Linda Myers

She used to incorporate children’s programs into Adopt-a-Native-Elder—providing Christmas stockings, backpacks and shoes. “I could get more funding for those programs than I could for the elders,” she says. “That was very unfortunate, because the only reason we started those programs is because so many young children were left with the elders.”

The children’s parents would leave the reservation to find work, only coming home on weekends. “So we found children with elders quite often—and very old elders who didn’t have vehicles and didn’t drive.”

Myers believes more foundations are willing to donate money for children than elders because “they see a future in children”: with a little leg up, kids might move out of poverty.

One challenge in getting grants for the Navajo elders is that people just can’t fully grasp their predicament, Myers says. “They can envision homeless, but they can’t envision people who actually live off the land and have survived to be in their 100s.”

And modern, online grant writing doesn’t allow for much education. “Today when you write a grant, it’s usually, ‘In 10 words or 30 words, describe what you do,’” Myers says. “They’ve cut it down to just the pure basics.”

Myers has the best luck getting grants from people who have volunteered or traveled with her and happen to have family foundations. “They see a need, they tell family, they adopt an elder.”

Local foundations that give small grants are also important sources of support, as is the American Express Foundation. “American Express in Utah has done a lot of work out on the reservation, and so they actually understand what our organization does,” says Myers. “They see what we do.”

“Caring for these elders is kind of a window of time. The traditional ones are now in their late 80s, 90s and 100s,” Myers says, explaining that unlike their children and grandchildren, these elders never learned English, never went to school and always lived a traditional lifestyle. “Caring for them is a huge need.”

Working Together for the Future

These five charities are changing the world in their own unique ways—with the help of foundations that see the value in investing in older people.

But there is much more to be done.

“Changing fatalistic attitudes toward aging is the best way to increase philanthropic funding of aging issues,” says Katherine Klotzburger, founder and president of the Silver Century Foundation, which commissioned this article.

Silver Century’s most recent grants have focused on journalism projects—both articles and documentaries—that Klotzburger hopes will challenge such attitudes and combat ageism across a wide sphere.

Nathaniel McParland, who served on the board of the Retirement Research Foundation for almost 30 years before retiring in 2018, is already seeing promising trends.

“I think the elderly have finally gotten a voice of their own,” he says. “The politicians are paying more attention to them than ever. And I think this trend will probably continue.”

Ultimately, such a trend will benefit people of all ages. “Unlike gender and race and religion and other things, aging really is a common bond that should bring us together,” says Paul Irving, who’s chairman of the Milken Institute for the Future of Aging, in addition to being chairman of the board for Encore.org.

“Every single one of us has a stake in ensuring that older people have a healthier future, have a more productive and engaged future, have an opportunity to realize their dreams and aspirations, have an opportunity to connect and learn, and an opportunity to contribute,” he says. “And we should all be working together to make sure that is possible.”

Have You Outlived Your Old Friends?

Here’s how to make new ones as you age
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Many people are living longer, healthier lives today, but there’s one drawback: you may outlive the old friends you always counted on. It’s harder to make new ones in your later years, but there are ways to do it, and journalist Bruce Horovitz rounds them up in this article for Kaiser Health News (KHN). It was posted on the KHN website on July 9, 2018, and also ran on USA Today.

Donn Trenner, 91, estimates that two-thirds of his friends are dead.

“That’s a hard one for me,” he said. “I’ve lost a lot of people.”

As baby boomers age, more and more folks will reach their 80, 90s—and beyond. They will not only lose friends but face the daunting task of making new friends at an advanced age.

Friendship in old age plays a critical role in health and well-being, according to recent findings from the Stanford Center on Longevity’s Sightlines Project. Socially isolated individuals face health risks comparable to those of smokers, and their mortality risk is twice that of obese individuals, the study notes.

Baby boomers are more disengaged [from] their neighbors and even their loved ones than any other generation, said Dr. Laura Carstensen, who is director of the Stanford Center on Longevity and herself a boomer, in her 60s. “If we’re disengaged, it’s going to be harder to make new friends,” she said.

Trenner knows how that feels. In 2017, right before New Year’s, he tried to reach his longtime friend Rose Marie, former actress and costar on the 1960s sitcom The Dick Van Dyke Show. Trenner traveled with Rose Marie as a pianist and arranger doing shows at senior centers along the Florida coast more than four decades ago.

“When we were performing, you could hear all the hearing aids screaming in the audience,” he joked.

The news that she’d died shook him to the core.

Although she was a friend who, he said, cannot be replaced, neither her passing nor the deaths of dozens of his other friends and associates will stop Trenner from making new friends.

That’s one reason he still plays, on Monday nights, with the Hartford Jazz Orchestra at the Arch Street Tavern in Hartford, CT.

Genuine friendships grow from repeated contacts. You don’t meet someone and immediately become best friends.

For the past 19 years, he’s been the orchestra’s pianist and musical conductor. Often, at least one or two members of the 17-piece orchestra can’t make it to the gig but must arrange for someone to stand in for them. As a result, Trenner said, he not only has regular contact with longtime friends but keeps meeting and making friends with new musicians—most of whom are under 50.

Twice divorced, he also remains good friends with both of his former wives. And not too long ago, Trenner flew to San Diego to visit his best friend, also a musician, who was celebrating his 90th birthday. They’ve known each other since they met at age 18 in the United States Army Air Corps. They still speak almost daily.

“Friendship is not [to] be taken for granted,” said Trenner. “You have to invest in friendship.”

Even in your 90s, the notion of being a sole survivor can seem surprising.

Perhaps that’s why 91-year-old Lucille Simmons of Lakeland, FL, halts, midsentence, as she traces the multiple losses of friends and family members. She has not only lost her two closest friends, but a granddaughter, a daughter, and her husband of 68 years. Although her husband came from a large family of 13 children, his siblings have mostly all vanished.

“There’s only one living sibling—and I’m having dinner with him tonight,” said Simmons.

Where to Find New Friends

Five years ago, Simmons left her native Hamilton, OH, to move in with her son and his wife in a gated, 55-and-over community midway between Tampa and Orlando. She had to learn how to make friends all over again. Raised as an only child, she said, she was up to the task.

Simmons takes classes and plays games [in] her community. She also putters around her community on a golf cart (which she won in a raffle), inviting folks to ride along with her.

For his part, Trenner doesn’t need a golf cart.

His personal formula for making friends is music, laughter and staying active. He makes friends whether he’s performing or attending music events or teaching.

Simmons has her own formula. It’s a roughly 50-50 split of spending quality time with relatives (whom she regards as friends) and nonfamily friends. The odds are with her. This, after all, is a woman who spent 30 years as the official registrar of vital statistics for Hamilton. In that job, she was responsible for recording every birth—and every death—in the city.

Experts say they’re both doing the right thing by not only remaining open to new friendships but constantly creating new ways to seek them out—even at an advanced age.

Genuine friendships at any age typically require repeated contact, said Dr. Andrea Bonior, author of The Friendship Fix: The Complete Guide to Choosing, Losing and Keeping Up with Your Friends (2011). She advises older folks to join group exercise classes or knitting or book clubs.

She also suggests that seniors get involved in “altruistic behavior,” like volunteering in a soup kitchen or an animal shelter or tutoring English as a second language.

It’s important to create support systems that don’t isolate you with your own generation.
–Alan Wolfelt

“Friendships don’t happen in a vacuum,” she said. “You don’t meet someone at Starbucks and suddenly become best friends.”

Perhaps few understand the need for friendship in older years better than Carstensen, who, besides directing the Stanford Center on Longevity, is author of A Long Bright Future: Happiness, Health and Financial Security in an Age of Increased Longevity (2009).

Carstensen said that going back to school can be one of the most successful ways for an older person to make a new friend.

Bonior recommends that seniors embrace social media. These social media connections can help older people strike up new friendships with nieces, nephews and even grandchildren, said Alan Wolfelt, an author, educator and founder of the Center for Loss and Life Transition.

“It’s important to create support systems that don’t isolate you with your own generation.”

Many older folks count their children as their best friends—and Carstensen said this can be a big positive on several levels.

“I don’t think it matters who your friends are,” she said. “It’s the quality of the relationship that matters most.”

KHN’s coverage related to aging and improving care of older adults is supported in part by The John A. Hartford Foundation.