My computer hates me

I found out last night that my computer won't go to the blogger.com homepage. Yeah it's not good. But anyway...

I work as a cook in a nursing home, so I found this very interesting. The world's oldest woman recently died, and it got me thinking. What kind of quality does one's life have once there is such a lack of freedom that one is forced to reside in a nursing home? I know, I shouldn't be bashing the places since I make good money, but watching the residents is really difficult at times. Of course, confidentiality laws say I can't reveal too much about what goes on behind the scenes, but I'll give it my best shot here. In the unit I work in (long term care), three-quarters of the residents are in wheelchairs, many of them can't bathe or even use the restroom without help, some of them can't eat on their own, one cannot talk but understands everything that's said to her, one understands nothing that's said to him but talks constantly, a few of them can't hear unless you're two inches from their ear and yelling. But the dementia unit is worse, I rarely work there because I just can't handle it. I've decided that if I ever get to the point where I'm losing my mind or have to wear depends and sit in a wheelchair all day, I want someone to do me a favor and shoot me. And what's worse is so many of these people have no visitors. In some cases it's because family is across the country, but many of these people's family and friends are in the community and just don't take the time except at big holidays like Christmas and Easter. It's pretty depressing.