Posted 8-23-19
What was your favorite mode of playground-induced near death experience when you was a grade school kiddo? I was a elementary/middle school punk in the late 1970’s and early 80’s. At my little (now huge) town we had the whole gamut of playground gear. Not like today, mind you, with thoughtful and wrap-them-in-a-bubble-suit safety. No. Our playground equipment was savage, not unlike the slightly later American Gladiators.
(Note to all of my hometown readers: I will include the park playground here too since it was our yearly “field trip” unlike the kids these days who travel to Mongolia or perhaps outer space every summer. Did you get that permission slip signed and $2.5M fundraiser collected???)
Here is what we survived growing up in my generation:
- Jungle gyms/monkey bars were fairly fun, I suppose. You climbed up a steel frame to the top and surveyed the rest of the playground, perhaps throwing off a kid or two who tried to take your throne. There were single swinging bars and larger structures. The single bars were the place where the little girls really needed jeans instead of a dress because they swung around a bit too much to keep it PG rated. The big structure saw folks fall off, slip and bust a chin or bite a tongue and get stepped on among other perils.
- Swings. Not padded, well-separated swings…Nooooo! Ours were lined up elbow-to-elbow such that you could play “Haywire” and rock sideways and thwack swingers on each side of you with 10 to the 4th power Newtons (or approximately the same force as the bite of a 6.1 meter adult great white shark….although hippos and maybe even super-smart dolphins are the bigger threat). We also played Frogger with the swinging people. Jumping off the swings at just the right height was both fun and deadly. To achieve this height, a pusher would have to do an “Underdog” for you–pushing from behind so hard that they swung you over their heads and exited the other side.
- Slides…ohhh the slides. There were three primary types in my school years. Slide 1 was the closest to the enormous, mega-gear we have today. It was a sort of tree house/fort-looking thing that had a stainless steel “slide” on the south, which was actually a roughly 7-foot triangle-ish shaped sheet of smooth stainless steel. It was grippy enough on your shoes to climb it with tennis shoes on, unless the sun hit it just right. During certain seasons when the Earth’s tilt was just right, this sheet heated to approximately 873.15 degrees Kelvin, or the same temperature at which rubber tires…and shoes melt. To the north of this contraption was the fireman poles method of entrance and exit. To the east was a standard, innocent set up steps and to the west was some gadgets and doodads that were boring enough that we left them alone.
- Slide 2 was a 15-foot-tall stainless steel slide with no guardrails. If you survived the 432 steps to get to the top of this chrome killer, you might slide down, you might fall off or you might jump off the platform and slide down the diagonal firemen’s poles where you were sure to fall to your doom. On a cold day I still feel aches from falling off this bad boy. However, cold wasn’t the temperature issues on this gem either. Its long surface was exposed to the Ozone-holed sun straight on and super-heated to approximately 1783.15 degrees Kelvin, or approximately the same temperature at which its own stainless steel begins to melt.
- The 3rd slide was the beloved Tornado slide. Made of some form of multi-colored material, the static electricity it produced whenever I would slide down in my 1970s polyester/double knit pants was enough to power my hometown for approximately a week, had adequate batteries been invented yet to store it. The best part of sliding down the Tornado slide, however, wasn’t the Tesla Coil that was created out of your skeleton, it was stopping half-way down and clogging it up for the rest of the now very angry sliders. I could hold back 8-10 sliders with the brute force of my arms and legs until someone’s heel finally dislodged my grip.
- We had a yellow bee teeter totter thing. It was similar to this innocent little ride for little kids, but was anything but. Three would ride while the forth stood on the head and, with violence and extreme prejudice, rocked back and forth until people got sick and threw up their Bomb Pops.
- The last main piece of equipment was the merry-go-round. Oh boy. As the kids text, LOL… First some background. The song “Ring Around the Rosie” was evidently written as an actual cutsie little nursery rhyme song although it has been long rumored to relate to the black plague. Regardless, its words could be a theme song for our old merry-go-round. “Ring-a-round the rosie, A pocket full of posies, Ashes! Ashes!We all fall down!” A bunch innocent 6-year-olds would hop on while a larger kid, typically me, would grab a bar and start running and fling the wheel-o-doom. He/I would continue to grab the spinning poles and sling it harder and harder until the riders would start sling-shotting off of this metal beast, sometimes flying into neighboring towns or at least into unsuspecting observers. (Bonus points!) Merry indeed!!
Dementia’s consequences are not unlike the old playground. (Sorry…it is the Friday of a long week. Hang with me here…)
Here’s how:
- There are lots of unintended hazards. Well-meaning people who I expect do not (and have not) work(ed) in a nursing home memory unit make decisions that help or hurt patients. The “right to fall” laws basically state that you cannot restrain a patient unless it is needed for a procedure. This is a freedom afforded them, to move unrestricted. It is also the freedom to exercise their law of gravity rights, and most of these patients, including the majority of the Sweet 17, are a fall risk at any given time. Nursing homes should have more say in this, with some oversight. If a car doesn’t have a “right to fly out the window in an accident law”, why should we have a right to fall for these precious gems?
- Like in playground slides, temperature is a problem. The memory unit is either 30 degrees or 190 degrees depending on which patient finds the thermostat on the heat/cool wall units. I am not sure if this is a problem everywhere, but I bet it is to an extent. Keep the rooms a comfortable temperature for an adult and use blankets when necessary. You can usually tell if the patient is too cold and cover them, but it is not as easy to cool them off it it gets too hot. They cannot tell you, so regulate and check often and avoid extremes. In addition to air temperature, water temperature for home caregivers needs to be backed off to 120 degrees at a maximum since a patient may burn themselves and are susceptible to bad decisions with hot water.
- Guardrails are helpful in slides and are helpful for seniors in general, but especially those with dementia. Falling, as mentioned previously and in the link, is a killer. The environment can increase or decrease this risk. In the home, see if your local area agency on aging or Alzheimer’s Association can assist with bathroom safety gear like rails and grab bars.
- Nausea (as in the merry-go-round and the bee ride) and constipation (as in the Tornado slide) need to be watched for and treated. Patients with dementia are very susceptible to dehydration. They don’t often automatically drink when they are thirsty. They are also prone to eating difficulties that are made worse by a sick stomach and/or constipation. Work with your medical team to monitor and address these issues quickly.
- Sores. Whether a 7-year-old tossed off of a merry-go-round with a bloody knee or a senior with dementia developing sores from sitting in the same place too long, the resulting sores need to be kept clean and the cause addressed. Infection and sepsis make a bad problem much worse, so handle with care and diligence.
- Joy in fellowship. Humans are made, to an extent, to enjoy life and to do so with others. We didn’t always care about the death traps in the playground…we just loved playing and hanging out. Just like a class full of students gets cabin fever/stir crazy when they miss their recess, dementia patients need exercise and human interaction/touch very much. Be sure they get some fresh air. Any exercise is better than no exercise. Visit a nursing home memory unit or a family caregiver… and love on them. They need you more than you know and it helps them in ways that may only seem trivial to you.
We sure had some great times and some hard times growing up, and my parents were a huge part of those days. Whether it be packing my lunch or doing triage on one of my many injuries, my folks were and are always there for me. The least I can do is be there for them too. Life is a great big, fat playground…
#EndALZ
Update: Mom did ok yesterday. I hope to see her tonight, if all works as it should. I will visit with her hospice nurse too if I can catch her. Today is one of mom’s bath days, so I can get the details about her sores’ healing up.
Last little note: dang…this was bad on the typos. Please tell me in the comments when you see them. 🙂 Don’t bother on word usage, but obvious typos need correcting. Also, don’t forget to click bold things…they are links. 🙂