Sonoma County families endure grief, anxiety as elder loved ones remain isolated in care homes

Nervous family members know it only takes one caregiver, or one resident, to start an outbreak.

Terry Canter’s 87-year-old father, Ed, recently moved to assisted care at the Veterans Home of California in Yountville after suffering a concussion in a fall. The home was gifted some iPads so residents could talk face-to-face with their families, but Canter said it doesn’t work with her Android phone. Ed Canter, a retired electronic engineer and Korean War veteran, lost his hearing aids when he fell and he can’t get in to a specialist until late May, further hindering his ability to communicate even by phone.

Canter, a manicurist who lives in Santa Rosa, does what she can.

“I talk to him on the phone. Sometimes he understands, sometimes he doesn’t,” she said.

She sends packages of puzzle books, word searches and books on dogs, which he loves, knowing he needs to stimulate his brain to recover and keep his spirits up. Before the fall he was very active and still driving.

Canter said she feels he’s getting good care. Still, she worries because of his vulnerabilities.

“I worry so much every day. I have dreams at night about what’s going on with him, how he is doing,” she said. She also ruminates about him waking up in confusion, wondering where his family is. She doesn’t want him to be afraid.

“They have to be isolated away from their family, and not being able to have contact when you’re at your lowest would be torture,” she said.

Windows perfect for visits

People who have parents in first-floor rooms with windows consider themselves lucky. Colette Owens, an accountant from Rohnert Park, said caregivers bring her mother, June Biava, to a big window overlooking the street for visits at the Family House in Rohnert Park where Biava lives.

“We open the window a little bit so we can hear each other,” Owens said. Some days she drops off surprises. A bingo game, fresh flowers, books, a new outfit for spring. She also provides all the necessities, including medication, toothpaste, bed pads and lipstick, so her mother can look her best. Her mother loves hummingbirds, so Owens bought her a hummingbird face mask to brighten an often dark experience and created a digital photo album so she can always see pictures of friends and family.

Before the lockdown, Owens would visit almost every day. Then with the first orders restricting visits to long-term care facilities, she would spend time with her mom in the backyard at what seemed like a safe distance, where they enjoyed the rose bushes and a warm space protected from winds.

“I sat 6 feet away as long as the weather was nice. But then licensing mandated no visitors, period. She understood that. She knows what’s going on. She was a nurse and understands the contagious part of it. She is very positive.”

Still, Owens said while she trusts the staff, it’s unnerving not being able to check in.

“You feel kind of helpless, even though I know her immediate needs are met,” she said. “I feel like the more time that goes on, she’s a little bit more withdrawn and I feel like I have to come up with more ways to be able to fill the gap.”

Socializing with distance

Some people have resorted to extraordinary measures to stay in touch. An Ohio arborist drove the bucket truck he uses for tree trimming to his mother’s care home and had himself lifted up to her third floor window.

Rachel Blum visits her mother, Norma Levitan, through a wrought iron fence at Sunrise Villa assisted living in Santa Rosa.

“I used to wave up to her at a second-floor window, but she couldn’t hear me. It was frustrating,” Blum said.

Instead, they figured out that if they could enlist a caregiver to bring a chair near the open fence, they could approach the property from a path and walk through a planting area to the fence on the other side. There, they talk at a safe distance without Blum breaking the rules and entering the grounds. Blum, 59, is extra cautious because she has an autoimmune disorder and has had pneumonia herself.

Bringing food to her mother is forbidden. Blum wanted to bring her mother matzo ball soup, and there was mutual disappointment when they were told it wouldn’t be allowed. And there would be no chopped liver for Passover.

Pre-pandemic, the pair went to lunch twice a week, usually to Hank’s Creekside Cafe for Levitan’s favorite hamburger.

Blum’s feelers are attuned to any opportunities. When she discovered her mother would be taken by a caregiver for a walk on a neighboring trail off the property, Blum donned her mask and met them at a footbridge and joined the walk, being careful to remain at a safe distance.

She believes the contact is helping her mother stay healthy.

“Old people are isolated as it is. I truly believe people do die from being lonely and not only from being sick.”

Some use technology

Beth Eurotas-Steffy has no way to see her mother, who is in a skilled nursing facility at Friend’s House in Santa Rosa, where she is bedridden from a stroke.

Alice Eurotas’s window looks out to a courtyard accessible only by entering a building, which is not allowed. So mother and daughter talk sometimes twice a day on the phone.

The family has endured worse. Alice Eurotas was one of the residents rescued at Villa Capri the first night of the Tubbs fire in 2017 after they were abandoned by staff. Now Eurotas- Steffy is anxious because Friends House has announced it is closing its skilled nursing unit, putting family members in a position of finding a new facility when moving presents a hazard of exposure.

“They have really good nurses. I trust they’re caring for her. It’s just hard with this added stress,” Eurotas-Steffy said.

Although many long-term care facilities are doing their best to help residents connect with family members via technology, the digital approach has plenty of pitfalls.

“I can’t do that on my laptop. It doesn’t have a camera,” said Melissa Kinney, whose father, Paul H. Kinney, is at Mirabel Lodge, a long-term care home in Forestville. He is 89 and has Alzheimer’s disease. She said she doesn’t have enough storage on her phone to add a video app.

Hard time all around

Oftentimes family members will do whatever little things they can for their isolated elders, both for them and to combat their own feelings of helplessness.

Kinney made a fidget quilt for her dad, a lap blanket with zippers, lace and other textures that people with dementia can pick at, something that calms them.

“I’ve had some really good dreams about my dad and I feel that he’s OK,” she said.

Alain Serkissian, who owns Mirabel and two other care homes in Sonoma County, said the separation from family is painful all around.

Although Mirabel has a beautiful garden filled with flowers for residents to enjoy, they can’t allow family members beyond the gate even for window visits because of potential contact with residents with dementia who may be wandering the grounds. Inside, dining tables have been moved so residents aren’t too close during meals, and most group activities have been canceled.

“We work really hard making sure we keep everybody informed of everything that is going on. We’ve written a couple of letters to all of the families. We establish Zoom conversations on a daily basis and we’re helping with phone calls all day long,” he said.

Both residents and their families are frustrated and upset by the circumstances, he lamented.

“Most understand it,” he said. “But it is difficult to accept.”

Staff Writer Meg McConahey can be reached at meg.mcconahey@pressdemocrat.com or 707-521-5024.