Geriatrics in Internal Medicine at KUMED

02/12/2026

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PLACEMENT

I have a love-hate relationship with euphemisms. There are times that it is nice, and even funny, to allude to something without having to say that undesirable word, right?

It took me a while to accept the euphemisms related to dying, such as "pass away." But I came to realize that once the term "dying" is used clearly, it need not be repeated ad nauseam. Euphemisms can soften the blow of a harsh reality.

However, when referring to a move to the nursing home, the use of "placement" is disturbing. It feels cold and, in a disingenuous way, makes it seem as though this is happening outside anyone's control and maybe even a special honor — "Her Placement." Perhaps this term, which dances around the truth, also perpetuates the negative perception of nursing homes. Of course, moving to a nursing home is emotionally difficult for all involved. Still, active supportive language such as "It looks like it is time to move your family member to a nursing home" might in fact be more loving and responsible than "they will be placed."

Think carefully about the accuracy, kindness, and implications of euphemisms.

01/06/2026

I'm ramping up new content on Age Old Wisdom, https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61585429130808

If you’ve ever wondered how to face aging with strength instead of denial, I’d love to have you there.

Helping people learn how to soften the blows of aging.

01/06/2026

I'm ramping up new content on Age Old Wisdom
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61585429130808

a page devoted to the lived experience of growing old and facing it honestly and well.

You're warmly invited to join me there.

Helping people learn how to soften the blows of aging.

09/10/2025

So many words of wisdom. "Time hangs heavy on your hands"

What does it take to live more than a century? Five centenarians shared the lessons they’ve learned about love, health, and money after 100 years of life. They reflected on the challenges they faced, the transformations they witnessed, and the habits that kept them strong as the world changed arou...

08/28/2025

08/24/2025

07/03/2025

An old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town. It was believed that he had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, They found this poem.

Cranky Old Man

What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see?
What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . . .. with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his 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 sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . ... lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, .. ...Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future ... . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . .. . 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, people .. . . . .. . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man .
Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. .... . ME!!

06/05/2025

https://www.buzzfeed.com/mikespohr/older-people-on-the-hard-parts-of-being-old

"You become invisible to every man, woman, and child on the planet. Younger people want us to go away because they don't want to look at their future."

05/20/2025

Blanche carefully pulled the freshly washed sheet up over her mother’s legs. Cornelia was just a teeny wisp of an old lady now bedbound with her arms and legs contracted into a semi-fetal position. The family had made her place in the dining room where the traffic of the family would keep her involved in their lives. They placed a small bed on cinderblocks so Blanche could more easily reach her to help her with bathing and care of her body....

Blanche carefully pulled the freshly washed sheet up over her mother’s legs. Cornelia was just a teeny wisp of an old lady now bedbound with her arms and legs contracted into a semi-fetal position.…

03/13/2025

The great fact of old age, no matter how you look at it, it's diminishing in one form or another. So the question recurs: why is life as I now know it, as it affects me in my present existence, such a curiously diminishing thing? Why must I change so much? Why must I grow weak? Why do I have to resign from occupations? Why do I find myself becoming confused, forgetting names, and misaddressing envelopes? What, on the other hand, is the meaning of the finer things of my latter existence? Why do I clearly see now many perspectives and relationships that carried no patent meaning for me in earlier days? -- The Precious Gift of Old Age. Fr John Lafarge, SJ

08/22/2023

Another Beatitude
By Elizabeth Clark

Blessed are they who understand
My faltering step and shaking hand,

Blessed, who know my ears today
Must strain to catch the things they say,

Blessed are they who seem to know
My eyes are dim and my mind is slow,

Blessed are they who looked away,
I spilled my tea on the cloth that day!

Blessed are they who, with a cheery smile,
Stopped to chat for a little while,

Blessed are they who know the way
To bring back memories of yesterday,

Blessed are they who never say,
"You've told that story twice today!"

Blessed are they who make it known
That I'm loved, respected, and not alone,

And blessed are they who will ease the days
Of my journey home, in loving ways