Caregiving - A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words
Pictures tell a delightful story. I love taking lots of them, creating albums, and sometimes sharing them with my friends and family.
The act of taking pictures has changed. I remember when it was necessary to carry around a camera and film, snapping pictures, dropping film off at the drug store, and waiting excitedly for a week to see how things turned out, only to discover the picture was over exposed or not aligned properly.
Today, taking pictures is incredibly simple. I can use my phone, and if I do not get a shot exactly right, I can see it immediately and retake it to get that perfect one (and quickly share it with friends and family).
Mom gave up her cell phone. I was never sure why she even had a cell phone because she did not turn it on, could never remember how to retrieve messages and was unable to make or answer a call (recently, she got a new cell phone and still faces the same challenges).
Cell phones are a part of life. One really cannot get away without having one. Like anything, it has both positives and negatives. One the positive side, it gives people the ability to connect quickly with one another, you can take pictures, you look up information – the list goes on. If one cannot use a phone or has no interest in learning how, it makes it challenging for people to connect with you, not to mention getting help if there is an emergency. We have tried to help Mom learn – I have tried, my siblings have tried, even my daughter has tried.
I am concerned about leaving because if anything happens, she cannot figure out how to make a call. Every time someone wants to contact her, whether that be confirming a doctor’s appointment or showing her a picture of something, they must go through me. I am the communication liaison.
Making and answering a phone call and sharing a picture may sound like simple tasks, but nothing regarding technology is simple with Mom. For instance, she cannot get the hang of swiping (whether that be to look at a picture or make/answer a call), touching the screen to enlarge an image or determining how to keep the screen from going to sleep. That means that someone (mostly me) must sit with her to show her everything. Mom stares for what seems like an hour at each picture, so I am constantly swiping back and forth (she wants to see the picture again), making something larger and preventing the screen from going black. What should take minutes, takes an hour (or more).
Technology has brought us convenience. When Mom approaches me excitedly because my sibling is sending me pictures to show her, I can only think about the inconvenience technology brought me because I must for an hour with a woman who refuses to learn anything new, and instead likes to enjoy by having it done for her.
Questions for you:
What technology do the older adults that you know use?
What suggestions do you have for teaching an older person how to use technology?
Helpful Resources
Optimizing tech for older adults (apa.org)