My awareness of the need for expanded support for seniors and their families arose when I was young. At that time, a family friend’s husband was diagnosed with early-onset dementia, and I witnessed his wife’s confusion about what was required, where to seek help, and how to access support. I vividly remember her being overwhelmed by piles of paperwork and struggling to handle everything on her own. My desire to help others in these scenarios profoundly shaped by both my personal and professional experiences.
At the age of 16, shortly after obtaining my driver’s license, I began caring for my maternal grandmother. Although I didn’t fully realize it then, I was already engaged in caregiving—I simply saw it as providing companionship to my grandmother. I would drive her to bingo sessions and accompany her to meet her friends for a comforting meal at a beloved local restaurant. Meanwhile, my aunt was taking care of my paternal grandmother, who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Later on, my aunt had to face the additional challenge of caring for her own husband, who was rapidly and severely affected by Lyme disease, resulting in a much faster progression.
Witnessing these experiences, absorbing the emotions, and hearing my family’s desperate calls for answers and support left an indelible mark on me. Unbeknownst to me at the time, this early exposure significantly and subconsciously propelled me toward a career and life dedicated to senior care. The greatest joy and sense of accomplishment I experience is when a family looks at me with relief in their eyes, grateful that I have been able to provide answers, offer alternative options, connect them with the right services, or simply be a compassionate presence and a source of comfort during difficult times.
The lack of genuine support for seniors, the impact of their care on friends and family, has always troubled me. There seemed to be no one to turn to, no one to ask questions and receive clear answers from. Families always strive to make the best decisions, yet in the realm of senior care, the right choice is often unclear, and in many cases, entirely unknown. Complex decisions are laden with pain and heartbreak, made even more difficult by the pressure to act swiftly and the fear of the unknown.
For the past 26 years, I have worked in the senior care industry, starting in adult daycare and moving through various long-term care settings, home care, hospice, independent living communities, and most recently, assisted living and memory care facilities. Even during my time as a bartender at a private country club in my twenties, I found myself engaging in conversations with older gentlemen who would share their doctor’s appointments or concerns about their spouses. Many of them felt too ashamed to seek help or request explanations for things they didn’t understand. I listened, learned, absorbed, and recognized what was missing. After spending almost seven additional years in an assisted living setting, where I interacted with different families daily, it became evident that the lack of personalized support was still sorely felt. When a daughter receives a midnight call informing her that her mother has been rushed to the hospital, she is expected to make quick decisions about the next steps and care plan. However, the medical jargon used by the clinical staff, which is unfamiliar to those outside the healthcare industry, adds to the confusion. Exhausted and overworked, these staff members rarely have the time to sit down and explain the distinctions between home care, assisted living, independent living, or long-term care. They fail to clarify that Medicare might only cover one to two weeks of rehabilitation, and once a loved one reaches a plateau in their recovery, Medicare stops covering the costs, leaving families responsible for private payments. The intricacies of waitlists in long-term care settings go unexplained. Furthermore, they fail to recognize that the healthcare terminology is akin to a foreign language for those outside the industry.
I remember when a son asked me about the difference between occupational therapy and physical therapy, genuinely thinking they were the same thing. Recently, a distraught daughter approached me, puzzled as to why she couldn’t simply drop off her father at a nursing home. Another tearfully explained that her mother was denied admission to the hospital, and as a result, Medicare wouldn’t cover the subsequent rehabilitation stay. Yet another individual wanted to move her resistant mother into an assisted living community, and her mother flatly refuses. These situations emphasize the growing need for families to have someone to turn to, someone who can address their simple questions. Ask for next steps, and explanations. Each story is individual. And each looking for personalized support.
Families require a compassionate and knowledgeable sounding board, someone who can provide answers in a language they understand. They need an unbiased voice that isn’t trying to sell them a solution but is genuinely interested in helping them navigate the array of practical options available. I aim to assist families in making the best choices for themselves and their loved ones. I strive to be the supportive voice during critical moments when hospitals demand immediate decisions. Drawing upon my 26 years of industry experience, I can provide valuable insights to aid in making informed decisions. I offer a listening ear when individuals need to discuss their personal, unique circumstances and provide unbiased responses and suggestions for the next steps.
I have always aspired to be that voice, that listening ear, that impartial individual who can assist families in need during times of crisis.
Allow me to be of assistance—share your concerns with me, and together, we will find the next steps that work best for your family as a whole, YOU, and your loved one in need.
~Kristin