Going into (c)old storage

I FIRST met Rob, a nonagenarian, two years ago. At that time, he was living an independent life — he walked to church on his own and had a group of friends to talk to daily. He shared with me stories of his rich and colourful life in various parts of South-east Asia and of his 11 children.

Shortly after I first met him, he had a fall and was sent to live in a private nursing home in Katong.

I saw him again last Sunday, when a friend drove him over for a get-together. He told us life in the home was all right — he had three meals a day and could watch television any time he wanted.

But he was not content. He missed the social interaction. He missed his children, who do not visit him regularly. He was upset that they had put him in a home and occasionally taking him out of cold storage.

Rob's mind is still active — he could still hold an interesting conversation with us — but he hankered for more mental stimulation.

Another nonagenarian friend has been bedridden since February and is being looked after by his wife and daughter at home. Although they love him very much, the strain of looking after an invalid is apparent. Putting this man in a home would be better as he would receive professional care, but he would not be living among his loved ones.

As Singapore grapples with the dilemmas of an ageing population, it is comforting to know our Government is putting energy and resources into developing a support system that will ensure the well-being of the elderly.

Senior Minister Goh Chok Tong stressed that the idea to have a national policy to look after the elderly in our midst will go beyond physical infrastructure, such as lifts that stop on every floor in HDB blocks.

It includes the formation of social networks to look after the greying population, which is forecast to double by 2020, when there will be almost 600,000 people here above the age of 65.

The encounter with my two nonagenarian friends has set me thinking about ageing seriously. I asked my two teenaged daughters what they would do should one of their parents become bedridden.

Would they separate us and each look after one parent, or put us in a home?

And, if I were to be put in a home, would I be treated like something to enable others to complete their Community Involvement Projects so they can earn a badge or an award?

At Christmas, would I have to sit through numerous renditions of Jingle Bells and accept charity gift packages of a toothbrush, a face towel and biscuits?

Would I have to smile and shake hands with unknown visitors, to whom there would be no difference between a visit to a zoo and a nursing home?

As Singapore journeys on as a developed country, our basic physiological needs — such as for food, water and sleep, as defined by Abraham Maslow — will be largely met, even when we grow old.

Even the second level of needs — for safety and security — can easily be met, if we put all the elderly in nursing homes. They would be well taken care of by the nurses, geriatricians and other staff.

It is the third level of needs the Government would find difficult to provide. That is, the need for love and belonging, for friends and companions, a supportive family, even an intimate relationship.

Such needs cannot be engineered by strangers. They have to be developed over time by family and friends. They can also be fulfilled when one belongs to a religious organisation or a social group.

As we gear up for the future, we must look beyond building more nursing homes and other physical infrastructure. We need to take to heart the Chinese idiom: "Having an elderly family member in the household is like having a treasure in a home."

Because one day, that person will be you and me.

This article first appeared in TODAY on 21st November 2006.