No one wants to slowly drool their way into dementia, forgetful and forgotten by those they have loved. Never mind death or taxes—what people fear most is entering a nursing home. But that’s exactly where Jean Misura plunked herself down to live. Where else could she find good-natured teasing over the size of her fanny on a bedpan?
Despite what she told her husband—whom she divorced to relieve from financial ruin and the relentless caretaking caused by her multiple sclerosis—she did fear the prospect of being surrounded by the dying and the not dead yet. At first. Before she began laughing.
In her tales about her caregivers and fellow residents—sometimes wise, sometimes demented—Jean discovers that neither bedpans, nor diapers, nor disease can erase human dignity. And yet, when those she loves begin to betray her and slip away, will the ache of loss grow too great to bear?
In an era where in-home care for the elderly has become a moral litmus test, Jean Misura's memoir shows that nursing homes still have a vital role to play. 190 pages.