From House to Home: Moving to a Senior Community

Moving a Hoarder

An overpowering stench of rotten food, body odor and urine permeated the dingy hallway. The closer I walked to Gary's apartment, the stronger the odor. I saw the eviction notice when Gary opened his door. Long, flowing white hair and grizzly beard, blue jeans and suspenders, he walked with the aid of a cane. He looked like a much older version of the hippies I remembered from the 1960's. He lived in a hoarder's paradise, full of books, garbage, clothes strewn throughout the apartment, dirty dishes in the sink and elsewhere, a cat, and enough cockroaches to infest an entire apartment building.

            "How can we help you?" I asked.

            Gary pulled a dirty handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his watery eyes and tried to silence a hacking cough.

            "I'm sorry. I've been ill and the medications sometimes make me cry."         

            Though I felt like running away from the smell, the horrific conditions and him, I knew we could make his life more manageable and cleaner (for the time we worked with him).

            "Well, we're here to help, not judge."

            Gary had a week to move out of his apartment and into his new community in Kansas City, KS. As a hoarder with no family members to keep an eye on him, he had accumulated thousands of things that had little value except to him. And he wanted to take them all. We developed a plan of action and I encouraged him to take only the things he needed, loved or couldn't replace.

            When I returned with my team, we coated the inside of our noses with Vicks (a crime scene trick). Gary had no bed. He slept on a pile of clothes and blankets.  One of my team members volunteered to wash all of his clothes in a laundromat. With mask and gloves on, she triple bagged the clothes. At the laundromat (much less money than the cleaners) she sorted, tossed, washed, dried and folded his clothes. At the apartment, we packed Gary's beloved books and prepared his bookcases for the move. We cleared his desk. He chose the kitchen items he wanted. We refused to take the badly infested furniture into the new community and he seemed to understand why we had to leave so much behind. We talked with Gary throughout the process, reassuring him that his new home would meet his needs better than his current one.

            I hired a moving company experienced with moving hoarders. We visited the new community and designed a floor plan. Luckily, we had recently cleared an apartment in a very nice community and for a small amount of Gary's money I purchased a bed, headboard, nightstand, dresser, sheets and towels, a microwave, and a few lamps. The community provided him with a sofa and chair and I donated an old coffee table and end table. We moved things from two different locations quickly so his new apartment would be move-in ready by late afternoon on moving day. We unpacked everything and put it away, arranging the books exactly the way he wanted. We hung his pictures and made his bed (it had been years since he slept in a bed). By the end of the day, he realized the scope of the work we did on his behalf and thanked us.

No two clients are alike but the skills required to meet their needs remain the same. How can we help you meet the needs of your clients?

Moving My Resistant Father to a Retirement Community

My dad, born in 1920, grew up in a family that fled the landlord in the middle of the night to avoid paying the rent. So moving into his own home in 1954 and wanting to remain in it until he died did not surprise me. After my mother died in 2001, dad decided that he could care for himself in spite of a multitude of chronic illnesses. We set up Life Alert. I invited him often for dinner when he still drove and brought him meals when he finally stopped driving. I took him to the grocery store, the barber, the doctor, the emergency room, and the drug store while I tried to put back the pieces of my own fractured life. He fell many times. We brought in a stair glide to enable him to sleep in his upstairs bedroom. We put in handrails and removed throw rugs. We hired a cleaning lady. Dad almost died in 2003 from aspirating pneumonia and spent time in various nursing homes. He rallied and returned to his beloved home but he was so lonely. When I called and asked him about his day, he responded, "Where is there to go? What is there to do?" Every time I mentioned that it was time to consider moving to independent living where he would have good nutrition and develop some friendships, he waved his hand in dismissal. Looking at the accumulation of stuff acquired in 50 years of never throwing anything away, he would tell me that it was too difficult, too overwhelming. Anything that didn't require food could remain in his home and so it did. In 2005, Dad was hospitalized 7 times for COPD and aspirating pneumonia. He refused to cooperate with the doctors' orders and was released from the hospital only to return again to the emergency room, sometimes on the same day. He had another stint in the nursing home where I spoke often about the urgency of moving to a safer place. He continued to resist, presenting me with a list of reasons why he couldn't afford to move. Every reason centered on an expense that he would no longer have once he sold the home. In desperation, he finally said, "I'm just not a social person!"  After much cajoling, he agreed to a respite at a nearby retirement community. We moved dad to a model apartment along with some of his clothes and his desk. Dad's desk was symbolic of the control he could still exercise over his life since it's where he paid his bills and reviewed his investments. Moving dad's desk to the respite room with dad made all the difference in his willingness to try something new and pretty scary. After three days he told me that he'd like to stay. In the next few years, he enjoyed good meals, friendships and fewer hospitalizations. He even told me I saved his life which prompted me to start Senior Move Services (www.seniormoveservices.com) so that I can help other people achieve the same quality of life as my dad enjoyed. 

In my next blog, I'll discuss how adult children can achieve the same results with their reluctant senior parents.