Most people do not come to visit nursing home residents because they get scared of the elders—I was one of them—and nursing homes are not the environment that they are used to, but after a period of time, that feeling will be gone. People get scared of the elderly because they have not thought about being old; humans are born, grow up, and get old—it is the cycle of life, and no one can change it. Everyone will get old eventually, but sometimes a lot of people try to deny this fact because no one wants to be old. The elders at nursing homes are people just like everyone else; they have problems, likes, dislikes, and dreams.
The first time I entered a nursing home, I freaked out because I had never seen a place where most people were in the wheelchairs with breathing tubes, could not speak or hear well, and sometimes were unconscious. One night, I came to the nursing home to help with the bingo; when I stepped into the nursing home, I was not comfortable and thought of what I had gotten myself into—I did not belong to that place. The first thing that I noticed was the smell of the rubbing alcohol that doctors or nurses usually use before they give someone a shot. After that, my eyes wandered around to the small room filled with elders who could hardly move; it gave me a chill and a thought of getting old, “Will I ever end up in this place where no one cares about me?” During the bingo, I felt more comfortable because the elder who I stood next to was so nice. She told me that I brought luck to her because she won three pumpkins, and she was glad that I 
was there to help her play bingo. There was also a lady who tried to tell us jokes; she said, “This thing [the pumpkin] is so hard; I could hit someone with it.” At the end of the bingo, the lady who I helped her play bingo even gave me a big hug and thanked me many times. Then, she went back to her room for the night.
The bingo night also reminded me of my paternal grandfather after he got hit by a car, when I was about thirteen. I was not close to him because my mother’s side and my father’s side did not get along well. He was unconscious when I visited him in the hospital; then, when I touched his left hand, he squeezed my hand and did not let go. I was scared and never touched him again. A few weeks later, I lost him forever. Even though there was nothing I could do to help him, I felt that I was not being a great granddaughter—I left him when he needed me the most. Like him, the residents at the nursing homes are just waiting for someone to visit and talk to them; they need someone to show them that they are cared and loved.
Elder Neglect 