Tales of Hurricane Sandy survival will likely emerge for years — particularly about the sick and elderly who were trapped in their homes or forced to evacuate under harrowing circumstances. Many of those stories have happy endings, like this one of social media and neighborliness I recently heard.
It is about two ailing 90-year-olds who, because of social media, formal and informal, and the ingenuity of one of their daughters, were located amid the rubble of Long Beach, N.Y., after the storm’s initial fury, and in short order gained admission to one of the few elder care facilities in the region that could meet their divergent needs.
“The pluses of social networking really come into play in a situation like this,’’ said Alice, 66, the couple’s daughter, a social worker for senior services in the office of a New York State senator who found herself almost as flummoxed as a nonprofessional when she needed help for her own parents. “More people are willing to help others than we think, but nobody is going to help if we don’t ask.’’
Alice’s social media search, first to locate her parents and then to find them a new home, began on a Facebook page for missing persons, one of many that sprang up after the storm. Long Beach, one of the hardest-hit areas, had no phones or power and was, for the most part, inaccessible. A Facebook page, Long Beach NY Hurricane Information, was meant to help residents find free hot food, a mobile medical van, somewhere to do laundry, revised school bus routes, lists of open stores, suggestions for good contractors, warning of price-gougers and, increasingly, share tales of recovery.
“I put up a post and sure enough some wonderful man from Brooklyn got back to me,’’ Alice said (we tell Alice’s story using only her first name to protect her parents’ privacy). The man had braved the miles of dark back roads to get to his own mother, who happened to live in the same co-op building as Alice’s parents.
He volunteered to check on the old couple and their home health aide on the third floor. Alice’s father, who has dementia, is incontinent and cannot walk because of a neurological condition, and her mother, who is deaf, suffers from depression, but by comparison is the “well spouse.’’
Their personal belongings were not destroyed, although her mother’s medical records were lost when her doctor’s office was damaged. But the old building would be uninhabitable for an indeterminate time, surely too long for a pair of 90-year-olds to ever return. Still, the information that they were O.K., coming from a total stranger, “provided a night of sleep I otherwise never would have had,’’ Alice said.
The next morning, she and her younger sister, Sharon, were able to get to Long Beach and tell their mother that the evacuation would be permanent. They brought the couple to Alice’s home in Queens for a few days, then to a nearby hotel and finally to a borrowed apartment in a neighboring building.
“It is so painful for them to be uprooted all of a sudden, at this age,’’ Alice said. “But in a way this may be one of those blessings in disguise. The way they were living, it was only after we actually had them with us that we realized my mother’s description of how things were going were not exactly accurate.’’
This is the case with many elderly parents, getting by in their own apartment and putting the best face on it lest their children tell them it is time to leave. So in the short window before she and her husband left for Chicago, and Thanksgiving with their own children and grandchildren, Alice had to set in motion the next step.
Her sister and brother-in-law on Long Island would keep an eye on the old couple in the short term. But the long-term solution, Alice said, with the clear-eyes that came from seeing others in this situation day-after-day, was a senior community where her father could live in the skilled nursing section and her mother in the less restrictive assisted living area. They would see each other as often as they wished, but each would get the correct level of care.
So before leaving for Chicago, using a more informal kind of social media, Alice e-mailed 40 friends — from her synagogue, her social work circle, her Rolodex of elder care lawyers and Medicare advocates. The e-blast was a plea for help.
“Each of you on this email know me personally,’’ she wrote. “As you all know, many years of my professional life have been dedicated to helping seniors . . . . Now I find myself in the position of needing help for my mom and dad.’’ She told them the story of her parents evacuation and how “exhausted and completely stressed’’ she and her sister and both of their husbands were. Now her “biggest hurdle was to find a place that can accommodate each of their needs.’’
She essentially asked this group to put on their thinking caps, and they did. Alice and her husband left for the holiday on a Monday. That Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, she got a phone call from an admissions person from exactly the kind of facility she needed, who had been contacted by her friends. Alice was told what kind of records she would need for their application. A plan was made to reconvene by telephone the Monday after Thanksgiving.
On Friday, Nov. 30, Alice and her sister toured the place. In that same blur of a week, the sisters took turns going to Long Beach to deal with their parents’ possessions. Alice’s mother slowly moved from reconciled to relieved. When it was time to tell Alice’s father “he went from sad and crying to angry at my sister and I for not being able to take them to live with either of us.’’
Through it all, Alice kept her e-mail committee up to date. She had crowd-sourced one of the hardest problems she would ever face. She had tapped the viral nature of hastily created Facebook pages, where strangers literally “friend’’ each other, and sent e-mail blasts to the kind of friends who take no offense at receiving the same message as a bunch of people they may or may not know.
In the “new old age,” this is one of many ways of doing what nobody really knows how to do. And in all likelihood, with the paperwork almost complete, Alice’s parents will have a new home for Christmas.
