Life goes on here at Kerikeri Retirement Village, but not as usual. We’re doing our best to maintain a semblance of normality but, despite this, many of our residents don’t understand at all what’s going on.
For family members on the ‘outside’, there’s the ache of not being able to visit. Many were coming to stand outside windows to talk to their loved ones but now, with full lockdown, this is no longer possible.
We have the telephone of course, and a tablet for those who can skype. One of our residents and her husband on the ‘outside’ are profoundly deaf and they enjoy a daily skype session using sign-language, which is so heart-warming to watch.
Our army of volunteers must stay away too. This means our staff are doing more than they normally would. It’s at times like this that we appreciate fully the extent of the contribution made by our ‘vollies’; taking cups of tea around, running group activities, talking to residents - their forced absence leaves a big gap in the fabric of our life.
Our staff are amazing. They all have their own families to worry about but they are committed to their roles as carers. As a team we are all pulling together, doing what we can, and doing it with cheer and humour. This might change if an outbreak occurs here, but for now we’re going OK.
One of the biggest issues we face is the lack of physical contact. I realise now how much, as a group, we are ‘huggers’ - both of our residents and of each other. Of course, physical contact is still happening, as we deliver our daily care. But it’s the hugs we usually share - of happiness, sadness, support and solace - that just can’t happen right now. At a time when they’re needed the most.
This is a very tough time, too, for our ‘independent living’ residents who are all particularly vulnerable. Some have no family network locally, so those people have been assigned a dedicated ‘buddy’ who does their shopping for them and is available to talk to - from a distance! Many people from the community have stepped up to do this and many of our staff have volunteered, too. It’s at times like this when we see people at their best and my thanks go to each and every one of them.
My special friend in our Care facility, with whom I often buy a lotto ticket, summed up the closure of the lotto shops in her own special way. “It’s outrageous!”, she exclaimed. It is, my friend, but one day we will go back to buying tickets and we’ll use those winnings as you want to see them used - to renovate the Paterson (rest home) wing at the Village.
