Every morning, Alvina Morgantini is dropped off at a day-care center that by any measure would be considered top-rate: compassionate staff, home-cooked meals, shelves stocked with plenty of Fisher-Price toys and children’s books.
Alvina is 75, and like most of the clients at this day-care center, she suffers from Alzheimer’s disease.
As the elderly population settles in as the fastest-growing segment of society, the problem of what to do with parents who can no longer live alone comes with no easy answers.
Alvina’s fellow clients here at Golden Years in south suburban Glenwood range in age from 53 to 98 and include a former mayor of Thornton, a professional golfer on the PGA tour, a high school teacher and an accountant. They’re dressed not in hospital gowns, but jogging suits, blue jeans and ski sweaters.
The idea of adult day-care centers-based on the same principles as day care for children: a safe, pleasant, stimulating environment in which to leave family members during the day-is being touted as an innovative solution and a much-needed alternative to nursing homes.
If the sight of a CEO playing with blocks seems grim, the alternative is even more so.
“My mother did for me,” said Arleen Morgantini, Alvina’s 51-year-old daughter. “Now it’s my turn to do for her.”
As the only daughter-a brother lives out of town and her father left long ago-Arleen always knew she would care for her mother. But it wasn’t supposed to happen quite this way. When adult children think about aging parents, they usually envision a mercifully short scenario: a heart attack, a bedside vigil, a funeral.
No medical machinery hums for Alvina, whom everyone calls “Red” because of her strawberry blond hair. Slim, well-coiffed and fashionably dressed, Alvina looks like she should be meeting her daughter for lunch and holiday shopping, not singing nursery rhymes, her eyes vacant.
The downward spiral started three years ago, when Alvina was visiting a friend in Florida and started babbling incoherently. The friend called Arleen, who scheduled an appointment with a neurologist. By the time the diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease was confirmed, the child had already become the parent and the parent had become the child.
The disease didn’t take into account that the vivacious Alvina had been working for decades and was just beginning to enjoy her retirement. Or that she was a terrific golfer, took pride in her sewing and had a wide circle of friends.
Currently, about 32 million Americans are over 65 and the ranks are expected to swell to 53.6 million in 30 years, when the last of the Baby Boomers will have hit retirement age.
But at the same time that more people will face caring for elderly parents, so too will the number of options increase, officials say.
One client at Golden Years drops her 98-year-old grandmother off there, takes her mother to another center and her 4-year-old to a third day-care facility, said Sherry Tucker, owner of Golden Years.
The number of adult day-care centers nationwide has soared from 600 in 1986 to 2,800 this year, including about 80 in Illinois and 50 in Cook County, according to the National Directory of Adult Day Centers. Even so, says a spokesman, “There is a need for at least 10,000 centers across the country.”
Such centers are more cost-efficient than full-time, long-term care. The migration of women into the work force has left no one at home to care for aging relatives. And health industry officials have realized that many patients do not have medical needs but require assistance with the day-to-day mechanics of living.
At Golden Years, the 35 clients can get a hot lunch, help with going to the bathroom, grooming and even transportation to doctor’s appointments. But they also get socialization that they would be hard-pressed to duplicate at home.
“The focus is on wellness,” said Tucker.
Tucker opened Golden Years in 1990 in a Glenwood church and then moved to a bright, airy storefront in a nearby shopping center earlier this year. She started the center after witnessing the steady deterioration of her grandmother.
“We were soulmates,” said Tucker, whose parents divorced when she was 12. “She had been my caregiver, so it was only fair to become hers.”
Tucker brought her grandmother home to live with her husband and two teenage children. When the task of being wife, mother, granddaughter and nurse became too overwhelming, she reluctantly moved her grandmother to a nursing home. Her grandmother spent the last six months of her life at the home.
The experience left Tucker with an intense dislike for nursing homes-and a clear career path.
On a recent morning, activity therapist Judy Neher took the group through a few verses of “Where is Thumbkin?” then continued with a spelling bee and a craft project, designed to improve fine motor skills.
“People aren’t paying me to put their relatives in front of a TV,” Tucker said.
Tucker and her staff of four try to focus on the tiny victories, such as a client remembering the name of a spouse.
“You get a lot back, because they are so grateful for the smallest things,” Tucker said. “You get very attached to them.”
The genuine affection is returned, as clients offer hugs and kisses as freely as babies.
Arleen has patched together a day-care system that consists of an aide coming to the house each morning to get her mother bathed, dressed and waiting for the Golden Years van.
Hiring an aide-at $100 per month, adjusted for her mother’s income from government assistance-meant that Arleen had to tighten the belt a little more, but she felt it was money well-spent.
“I almost went goofy getting my mother and myself ready in the morning,” said Arleen, a warm woman with an easy laugh. “You have to take care of yourself. If you don’t, you’re going to resent them . . . I can give her a part of my life, but I can’t give her all of my life.”
The daily fee at Golden Years is $35-about the national average-which includes lunch and transportation. But some insurance companies are just beginning to cover day-care costs, far less than the typical nursing home bill of $30,000 annually.
Shawn Bloom, of the American Association of Homes for the Aging, a Washington, D.C.-based advocacy group, thinks that adult day-care programs should be viewed as a form of preventative medicine.
Like so many parents and children, Arleen and Alvina never planned for this day.
Americans are notoriously bad at this kind of thing, according to a recent Health Magazine/Gallup Poll. Only 12 percent of adult children have actually drawn up legal documents ironing out the details of long-term care. It’s wrapped up in emotionally-loaded subjects-money, aging and our own mortality-subjects we don’t want to think about.
“If this had to happen, I’m glad that it’s happening now, when I’m in my 50s,” said Arleen. “I’m settled, I’m home in the evening . . . but this would have been harder when I was younger.
“I do know, that if I ever see the symptoms, I won’t wait until I’m in a crisis situation. I’m going to be ready.”
Referrals for adult day-care centers are available from the U.S. Department on Aging: 1-800-252-8966.
