My family needs Nexcare Health Systems to be honest about my grandmother's care at Four Chaplains care facility during this COVID-19 pandemic. She was born in September of 1918, during the 1918 flu pandemic. She grew up in Pittsburgh, one of four daughters. She married a union man and lived in Livonia for much of her life, where she raised 9 smart, headstrong, and sassy kids -- no easy feat. The union kept her and her husband busy until the tragic, unsolved death of her husband. But she kept going. She kept her family together. She kept herself together. She found comfort in her faith, in the Catholic Church. She put herself through college in her 60s, studying gerontology. She taught herself piano. She gardened, she played with her grandkids and -- later -- her great-grandkids. She moved to the South, where she played tennis and traded her Buick for a purple VW bug. Her house was struck by lightning one March, burning many of her keepsakes -- photos, quilts, tokens and trinkets of her life. She kept going, rebuilding on the foundation. She lived to be 80. She loved classic films, gin and liverpool rummy, and defeating any challenger at Scrabble. Then 90. She moved back to Michigan, to be closer to more of her children, to have more support as age caught up. She outlived her sisters, one of her children. She turned 100. Then 101. Given the information Four Chaplains and parent company NexCare Health Systems has shared with my family, it appears that decided that the opportunity for corporate profit outweighs clear communication of a care plan for my grandmother. It appears they have volunteered to bring COVID-19 patients into the care facility where my grandmother lives. Four Chaplains, in Westland, is forcing its staff and residents into a terrible and dangerous situation, where they will share space and breath with people suffering from COVID-19 and the residents they work to support. While we should be doing all we can to help people suffering during this pandemic, I do not think it should be at the expense of some of the most vulnerable and long-lived among us. We should also not force people into a situation where they may spread the virus, to their loved ones and the people they so kindly and generously take care of. NexCare informed us of this decision Easter morning, though we have learned from others that not everyone was informed. They told us that they had to do this, that it was required of them by the mandate of Governor Whitmer. We have not been able to see or speak with my grandmother for weeks, as the facility has been on lockdown to mitigate the spread of the virus. We have seen what the virus can do at nursing homes around the country -- in Livonia, Seattle, NYC. There is not even a window we can see her through, to show her that we are still here, that we love her, that we have not abandoned her. But to tell us that we cannot see our grandmother because of this virus, and then to move people who are actively infected with this virus into her facility doesn't make sense. They have told us she is listless, despondent. We fear she won't make it through this -- that the isolation and proximity to illness will be too much. NexCare says that there is nothing they can do, they have sentenced my grandmother to this fate. Our family is left wondering - if she dies, will we be allowed in? No one knows, and NexCare isn't giving us any clarity. read more

I am writing my grandmother's obituary. She was born in September of 1918, during the 1918 flu pandemic. She grew up in Pittsburgh, one of four daughters. She married a union man and lived in Livonia for much of her life, where she raised 9 smart, headstrong, and sassy kids -- no easy feat. The union kept her and her husband busy until the tragic, unsolved death of her husband. But she kept going. She kept her family together. She kept herself together. She found comfort in her faith, in the Catholic Church. She put herself through college in her 60s, studying gerontology. She taught herself piano. She gardened, she played with her grandkids and -- later -- her great-grandkids. She moved to the South, where she played tennis and traded her Buick for a purple VW bug. Her house was struck by lightning one March, burning many of her keepsakes -- photos, quilts, tokens and trinkets of her life. She kept going, rebuilding on the foundation. She lived to be 80. She loved classic films, gin and liverpool rummy, and defeating any challenger at Scrabble. Then 90. She moved back to Michigan, to be closer to more of her children, to have more support as age caught up. She outlived her sisters, one of her children. She turned 100. Then 101. I am writing my grandmother's obituary, not because she has passed, but because NexCare Health Systems has decided that an opportunity for corporate profit is more important than her life. In an effort to increase their earnings, they have volunteered to bring COVID-19 patients into the care facility where my grandmother lives. Four Chaplains, in Westland, is forcing its staff and residents into a terrible and dangerous situation, where they will share space and breath with people suffering from COVID-19 and the residents they work to support. While I fully believe we should be doing all we can to help people suffering during this pandemic, I do not think it should be at the expense of some of the most vulnerable and long-lived among us. We should also not force people into a situation where they may spread the virus, to their loved ones and the people they so kindly and generously take care of. NexCare informed us of this decision Easter morning, though we have learned from others that not everyone was informed. They told us that they HAD to do this, that it was required of them by the mandate of Governor Whitmer. We have not been able to see or speak with my grandmother for weeks, as the facility has been on lockdown to mitigate the spread of the virus. We have seen what the virus can do at nursing homes around the country -- in Livonia, Seattle, NYC. There is not even a window we can see her through, to show her that we are still here, that we love her, that we have not abandoned her. But to tell us that we cannot see our mother, our grandmother, our great-grandmother because of this virus, and then to move people who are actively infected with this virus into her facility, strikes me as stunningly ludicrous and heartless. They have told us she is listless, despondent. We fear she won't make it through this -- that the isolation and proximity to illness will be too much. NexCare says that there is nothing they can do, they have sentenced my grandmother to this fate. If she dies, will we be allowed in? Will she die alone at Four Chaplains after a life of hard work and true grit, with none of her loved ones by her side? No one knows, and NexCare doesn't seem to want to tell us. So I'm writing my grandmother's obituary. My strong, tough, lovely, silly, snarky, 101-year-old grandmother's obituary. Because NexCare, the governor, and the American healthcare system seem to think that she has to die. read more