The Elderly-What Do You See?

[JoAnnS]

Hello:

Don't shoot the messenger. I thought I'd pass on this email that I received. Thanks for letting me share it.

The Elderly-What Do You See?

What do you see?

"What do you, nurses, what do you see?

What are you thinking when looking at me?

A crabby old woman, not very wise?

Uncertain of habit with faraway eyes.

Who dribbles her food and makes no reply

when you say in a loud voice, 'I do wish you'd try;'

who seems not to notice the things that you do,

and forever is losing a stocking or shoe.

Is that what you're thinking?

Is that what you see?

Then, open your eyes . . .

you're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still,

as I do your bidding, as I eat (at) your will.

I'm a small child of 10 with a father and mother,

brothers and sisters who love one another.

A young girl of 16 with wings on her feet,

dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet.

A bird soon at 20, my heart gives a leap,

remembering the vows (that) I promised to keep.

At 25 now, I have young of my own,

who need me to build a secure, happy home.

A woman of 30, my young . . . grows fast,

bound to each other with ties that should last.

At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone,

but my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.

At 50, more babies' play round my knee;

again, we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead.

I look to the future, I shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing (the) young of their own,

and I think of the years and the love I have known.

I'm an old woman now, and nature is cruel.

'Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles; grace and vigor depart.

There (now is) a stone where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells,

and now and again, my heart (truly) swells.

I remember the joy, I remember the pain,

and I'm loving and living life over again.

I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast,

and accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So, open your eyes, nurses, and see . . .

Not a crabby old woman, look closer, see me."

-Author Unknown-or-Is She-

[yessie11604]

I have read that somewhere hmm:uhoh21:? very intresting

[Hospice Nurse LPN, BSN, RN]

Although I've seen it before, I love that poem.

[TheCommuter, BSN, RN]

A few nursing home residents have had that poem taped to their walls inside their rooms.

[Fiona59]

I loathe that poem.

We all know that you had a life, dreams, hopes and aspirations. We all do.

I have to deal with the YOU, you have become over the years. So, yes, I do see a cranky old lady, who spits pills at me, and will swat at staff.

(We've been slammed at work with seniors lately, who have to come in for surgery, and then the family decides they can't deal with their elder any more and "we think they should go into a home", and the LTCs are all full, so we are bed blocked)

[KimmieNEAL]

I love geriatrics..... even prior to being a nurse I always loved them! It is to bad that our society doesn't admire what they have contributed in their productive days. Instead we (as a whole) are so ready to shove them away as if they are nothing but useless burdens. Thanks for sharing the poem. It brought tears to my eyes to read it. One day we might all be there.

[franciscangypsy]

I've seen this poem before and I've always loved it.

I always try to talk to my patients about their hobbies so I can come to see the real them.

It's a small step, but sometimes it's the most I can do in a busy day.

[spydercadet]

I graduated with my RN 26 years ago and they read this poem to us then - believe it or not. I always remembered it because the first time I heard it I cried. And now that I started a CNA and LPN program at the tech school I work at, I looked high and low for it and finally found it on some internet site. Every class they are given a copy of this poem and them I ask them to tell me what they are willing to give up to move into, basically, a hospital room, usually with someone you don't know and probably don't like. I figure even if I change only one heart a year by doing this, I have accomplished a miracle for someone who'll be taken care of by the student who learned the meaning.

Thanks for sharing this with everyone. Great Idea!!!

[cschmill]

i see a mother, a father, someone who put food on my grandparents table, someone who fought for my freedom. a wealth of knowledge if only someone will listen. it's a shame the way our elderly are treated these days, going without medications because they can't afford them, put in homes where some of them never see thier families again.

i know this poem well, and think of it often.

[suzy253, RN]

I love that poem. I work with a large geriatric population on a med surg/step down telemetry unit and I care for my elderly dears in a way that I would treat my own parents...if they were alive.

[nursingis4me]

Hello:

Don't shoot the messenger. I thought I'd pass on this email that I received. Thanks for letting me share it.

The Elderly-What Do You See?

What do you see?

"What do you, nurses, what do you see?

What are you thinking when looking at me?

A crabby old woman, not very wise?

Uncertain of habit with faraway eyes.

Who dribbles her food and makes no reply

when you say in a loud voice, 'I do wish you'd try;'

who seems not to notice the things that you do,

and forever is losing a stocking or shoe.

Is that what you're thinking?

Is that what you see?

Then, open your eyes . . .

you're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still,

as I do your bidding, as I eat (at) your will.

I'm a small child of 10 with a father and mother,

brothers and sisters who love one another.

A young girl of 16 with wings on her feet,

dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet.

A bird soon at 20, my heart gives a leap,

remembering the vows (that) I promised to keep.

At 25 now, I have young of my own,

who need me to build a secure, happy home.

A woman of 30, my young . . . grows fast,

bound to each other with ties that should last.

At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone,

but my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.

At 50, more babies' play round my knee;

again, we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead.

I look to the future, I shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing (the) young of their own,

and I think of the years and the love I have known.

I'm an old woman now, and nature is cruel.

'Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles; grace and vigor depart.

There (now is) a stone where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells,

and now and again, my heart (truly) swells.

I remember the joy, I remember the pain,

and I'm loving and living life over again.

I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast,

and accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So, open your eyes, nurses, and see . . .

Not a crabby old woman, look closer, see me."

-Author Unknown-or-Is She-

beautiful!!

[suanna]

I am rarely touched by the flotsum and jetsum of pseudoprofound internet fluff that appers in my e-mail and on the web. Thanks for sharing a truely touching poem. So many times our assignments become "rm8 bed2" its easy to forget the person inside the patient.