Families, congregate-care residents share stories of struggle over visitation restrictions

Oct. 25--When coronavirus forced Ohio officials to close nursing homes or assisted living facilities facilities to all visitors in March -- an effort to curb coronavirus spread and save lives -- it was devastating for all involved.

Residents missed their families. Families were forced to make decisions about their loved ones' care without ever getting to see their condition.

Over the summer, the state began allowing visitation in an effort to restore those connections. It started with window and outdoors visits, and this month moved to indoors visits in some facilities.

But with masks and social distancing still required, some families say the visits remain unsatisfactory.

"We do hear from people that when they do visit, it's not as meaningful a visit as they would normally have under normal circumstances," said Julia Pechlivanos, executive director of the Alzheimer's Association Northwest Ohio Chapter.

Some families and caregivers believe patients' near isolation over the last seven months may have already caused irreparable damage, manifesting in physical and mental deterioration. Other people are concerned about the quality of care their loved ones may be receiving, Ms. Pechlivanos said.

Before the pandemic, families could inspect rooms, monitor keepsakes, and assess their loved ones' quality of life to decide whether to send a patient into care or to make sure a chosen facility was the right fit. Now, they're shut out.

Families reached out to The Blade to share their own stories of mixed jubilation and heartbreak amid visitation restrictions.

Tom Ottney and Gerry Ottney

Both Tom and Gerry Ottney live at Oakleaf Village in Sylvania, but because she's in the memory-care unit and he's in assisted living, the 65-year married couple has struggled to stay connected.

Prior to the coronavirus lockdowns, Mr. Ottney, 87, would visit his wife, 89, every day to help her and hold her hand through the struggles she faced as her Alzheimer's disease progressed. Now, he barely sees her at all.

They tried a window visit once, but couldn't hear each other through the glass and "found it so unsatisfactory we did not do it again," Mr. Ottney, said. Plus, with visits limited to once per week and three daughters who also wanted to see their mother, it would take a month before it was his turn to try again.

When indoors visits resumed last week, he jumped at the opportunity but again found the safety requirements and supervising aide too intrusive. He especially balked at not being able to hold his wife's hand, which he considers their main form of communication as her condition worsens.

"At the end of that session, which was only 30 minutes long, I made the decision that it just wasn't worth it," Mr. Ottney said. "We met but we could never make the connection that we wanted to make."

Helen Myers

When Helen Myers, 94, broke her hip and was sent to Kingston Care Center of Sylvania for rehabilitation, she asked to stay -- provided her daughter would visit regularly and bring her treats.

Coronavirus broke that promise, but her daughter, Sharon Roselle, said they're getting by and making the best of it.

Outdoors visits became an option for them three weeks ago, which "have really picked my mom's spirits up," Ms. Roselle said. And she still sends weekly care packages with Diet Pepsi, fruit, and Twizzlers no matter what.

"It was so good to see her and it got her outside," Ms. Roselle said of their latest outdoors visit, which she expects to be the last while Lucas County is on "red" alert on the state's health advisory system. "You could just tell she was so excited."

Window visits haven't worked and FaceTiming proved too difficult, but Ms. Roselle said her mother retains full mental capacity and understands the precautions. They're waiting patiently for their next opportunity to connect.

"I was hoping we could visit again but it might not be that way for a while. But it's for her safety," Ms. Roselle said. "We don't want anything to happen to her, so it's what needs to be done."

Ron Cieslewicz

Joan Baughman lost her mother a year ago, and now she says Alzheimer's and coronavirus restrictions are robbing her of the days she has left with her remaining parent: her stepfather, Ron Cieslewicz.

She and her six siblings watched as time and distance caused the 89-year-old not to recognize pictures of his wife of 50 years. Now, they worry what seven months of near-isolation and 20-minute masked visits once a week with only one relative are doing to his memory of them.

"My dad is dying each day and I can't see him and I don't know how long he's going to remember me," Ms. Baughman said. "Am I ever going to see him alive again?"

She yearns to give him the love he deserves having raised her since age 7 -- the affection he's confusedly questioned why she's not offering during her now limited visits.

"Either they're going to die from coronavirus or they're going to die from loneliness," she said of the health risk.

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