Showing posts with label wheelchair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wheelchair. Show all posts

Friday, May 24, 2019

My Huntington’s disease sister – and a hero who strives for the unthinkable


Sharon Shaffer is my Huntington’s disease sister – and my hero.

Afflicted with progressively worse HD symptoms the past 15 years, San Diego area resident Sharon decided to once again attempt the unthinkable for someone heading into the final years of the fatal, incurable disorder: she rowed the equivalent of an aquatic marathon (26.2 miles) on a gym machine in six and a half hours.

The May 10 event, with loved ones and supporters cheering her on, was called “Sharon's Marathon Row for Huntington's Disease Awareness Month.” 

Sharon’s feat was captured in a five-minute video titled Magic on Marathon Row, produced by filmmaker Nathan Apffel, who also directed the feature-length documentary The Longest Journey, about the Shaffer nuclear family’s epic battle against Huntington’s.


A scene from Magic on Marathon Row

“When disease takes your health and mobility and will take your life, you have a choice,” the video’s overlying text says. “Meet Sharon, a real-life super woman. As Sharon’s body gives out, her determination grows. As her world contracts, her commitment to raising awareness intensifies. As her body breaks down, one thing remains consistent: her determination to fight.”

Sharon’s husband Renato told me in an e-mail that, despite her advanced HD symptoms, she did the "marathon" through “sheer perseverance.”

“It is the only exercise she is able to do without assistance,” he added.

“Sharon, you truly are an inspiration to so many,” wrote E.J. Garner, the chair of the board of the Huntington’s Disease Society of America, in response to my Facebook posting of the video. “Thank you for being such a beautiful example of persistence to fight and bringing awareness to Huntington's disease.”

“She completed a feat only few in the entire world, even healthy and athletic, would not dare approach, let alone finish,” observed LeeJ Razalan, a friend and the owner of Stay Classy CrossFit, the San Diego gym where the event took place. “Sharon's statement in life and in disease will forever ring: we shall overcome and we will finish this together."

Watch Sharon in the video below.


Advancing symptoms

The “marathon” exhausted Sharon. “She could barely move when we got home and took a good three days for full recovery,” Renato explained.

With her family’s help, Sharon has remained one of the most physically active HD-afflicted individuals I have encountered. The highly demanding CrossFit workouts have been one of her favorite activities.

Renato believes that CrossFit delayed Sharon’s need for a wheelchair.

“I also believe the people she worked out with gave her motivation,” he added. “She always looked forward to working out.”

However, Renato also described CrossFit as a “barometer” of HD progression.

In recent years she has become physically weaker, and the involuntary movements caused by HD have increased.

“We have witnessed a rapid decline in the past twelve months,” Renato wrote. “She is no longer able to walk unassisted, and her speech is becoming more labored every day. We have full-time in-home care and are so fortunate they are doing a really great job taking care of her.”

Sharon still exercises, but “it gets more difficult every week,” Renato added.

Renato allowed Sharon to row in the “marathon,” he wrote, because as symptoms worsen, exercise will become impossible. That moment will be "heartbreaking."

An upbeat family

I met Sharon about two decades ago at the HDSA-San Diego support group. With others in the breakout group for presymptomatic gene carriers like us and also the untested at-risk, we shared our fears about the disease and its consequences for our children and extended families.

The Shaffers became one of the most active supporters of the cause. Between 2005 and 2015, with Sharon, family members, and others following in support vehicles, Renato and three other riders competed four times in the Race Across America, a non-stop coast-to-coast bicycle race. They always completed the race in fewer than the required eight days.

The Longest Journey documentary chronicles the 2015 race. “In contrast with most presentations of HD I’ve witnessed in the two decades since my mother’s diagnosis for the disorder, this often emotionally wrenching film left me, an HD gene carrier, feeling upbeat,” I wrote in a review of a private screening of the film in 2016 (click here to read more)

The closing words of Sharon’s rowing video ask viewers to learn more about Sharon’s story by watching The Longest Journey. (It’s on Amazon and free to Prime members.)

According to Renato, Amazon statistics reveal that the film has been viewed 200,000 times.

The essential goal: treatments

Sadly, I’ve witnessed how HD has overcome Sharon, transforming her from a healthy and vibrant woman into someone now dependent on a wheelchair and the assistance of others.

However, Sharon has demonstrated that, despite the ravages of the "devil of all diseases," the core of her personality has survived.

As we enter the final week of HD Awareness Month, Sharon’s gutsy fight reminds us all that we must not give up in the face of Huntington’s difficult challenges.

For me, Sharon’s devotion to exercise is a cue to spend more time swimming.

At the same time, exercise, although certainly important, has not stopped Sharon’s HD from progressing.

We need effective treatments – urgently.

In the HD movement, advocates create moments that capture the essence of the cause.

In defying seemingly insurmountable obstacles, the Shaffers remind us of the immense scientific, financial, political, and social challenges that the HD community faces in seeking to find the first effective treatment – and perhaps even a cure – for a neurological disorder.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Staying when the Chargers leave: a leading Huntington’s disease advocate sets a gutsy, loving example

After the San Diego Chargers’ recently announced move to Los Angeles, team public relations director and Huntington’s disease advocate Bill Johnston made a gutsy, loving decision: after 38 years with the Chargers, he will quit so that his HD-afflicted wife Ramona can stay at the highly-regarded San Diego nursing home where’s she spent the last decade.

Bill made his decision after thoroughly researching nursing homes in Orange County, which is much closer to the Chargers’ new Los Angeles headquarters than San Diego County. He visited seven facilities, paying special attention to their ability to conscientiously care for someone with HD. As the HD community is all too painfully aware, such facilities often provide poor care.

Bill did not find what he wanted. He opted for Ramona to remain at Edgemoor Hospital in Santee, located next to San Diego. A public nursing home, Edgemoor has cared for dozens of Huntington’s patients over the past several decades.

“Everybody would make the same decision I am making if they were in my shoes,” Bill told the San Diego Union-Tribune. “It’s just the situation I find myself in.”

Bill awakes at 4:55 a.m. daily and visits Ramona at Edgemoor before heading to work. She was diagnosed with HD in 1999 but had showed symptoms earlier. She is now in the late stages of the disease, confined to a wheelchair and unable to care for herself. The native San Diego couple met in high school and married in 1983.

“She can’t talk anymore, but she’ll make some sounds,” Bill told the Union-Tribune. “Sometimes, I think she’s trying to say my name. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.”


The Johnston team at the 2014 Rock-n-Roll Marathon raising funds and awareness for the Huntington's Disease Society of America. Bill has his arm around Ramona, in wheelchair. Daughter Hayley stands directly behind Bill (photo by Andrew McClanahan/PhotoRun.net)

‘I’ll always do what I can’

By interrupting his career and staying in San Diego, Bill is rolling with one of the many punches thrown by HD. His son Jared, 31, tested negative for HD. Daughter Hayley, 28, remains untested; she has a 50-50 chance of having inherited the HD genetic defect from Ramona.

Other HD families have adapted their lives dramatically to meet similar challenges. In my family, my mother died of HD, and I carry the gene. Since my mother’s diagnosis in 1995, HD has frequently dominated my family’s life. Fortunately, our daughter tested negative and is today a healthy teenager.

Bill’s situation reminded me of my own. In 2007, in a wrenching, career-changing decision, I turned down a major job offer in Miami to remain in California, a biotech state with crucial public support for stem cell research. California also has HD-involved companies such as Ionis Pharmaceuticals, Inc., which is currently running a historic Phase I clinical trial of a gene-silencing drug. Most important, remaining in California allowed my wife to keep her relatively well-paying teaching job and pension, our financial lifeline if I become disabled.

I had also bonded with Bill and many other members of the San Diego Chapter of the Huntington’s Disease Society of America (HDSA-San Diego). Through chapter events, Bill and his family have raised nearly $3 million for HDSA. Their leadership and fortitude have inspired people in the local HD community and beyond.

In response to my e-mail query about his plans for future advocacy, Bill wrote: “I’ll always do what I can.”

“Bill has been a ‘tour de force’ in advocating for the HD community in San Diego and nationally,” HDSA-San Diego president Beth Hoffman, Ph.D., wrote in an e-mail. “Bill has tremendous energy and passion, and brings wonderful and new ideas to our fundraising efforts. He’s always been there to drive the chapter’s success. We are thrilled that Bill will remain in San Diego and look forward to expanding our efforts towards the HDSA mission with him.”

“I am not surprised by Bill's decision to stay,” long-time HDSA-San Diego board member Misty Daniel wrote. “His dedication to Ramona and our HD community has never faltered over the years. Bill's decision to stay reaffirms what most HD families know: that family truly is everything.”


Ramona with Chargers star and HDSA supporter Antonio Gates at the 2007 Celebration of Hope Gala (photo by Gene Veritas)

Change means new opportunities

After 56 seasons in San Diego, the Chargers’ departure angered local football fans and civic leaders. “The Los Angeles Judases have betrayed us for 30 pieces of silver,” wrote Union-Tribune sports columnist Nick Canepa, who is also a member of HDSA-San Diego’s advisory board, in reference to the move

The team’s’ exit has also posed a huge challenge for HDSA. Bill’s involvement since 1999 added the team’s high-profile pro-football brand to most major fundraising events, including the chapter's annual gala. For years, HDSA-San Diego board meetings took place at Chargers’ headquarters, and team owner Dean Spanos allowed use of that facility for fundraisers. In 2003, Spanos and his wife Susie received HDSA’s Harold Leventhal Community Service Award at a dinner in New York City.

However, Bill’s decision to remain has helped offset the feelings of desertion resulting from the Chargers’ move. His connections, creativity, and dedication will help the chapter strike out in new directions. As Bill has always made clear, he’s also in this fight for Hayley – and for all families affected by HD.


Bill and Hayley Johnston exchange ideas at an HDSA-San Diego event in May 2016 (photo by Gene Veritas).

Over the years, other chapter members and even Bill himself recognized the danger of relying too heavily on the Chargers. As a result, the chapter has strived to diversify its sponsor and donor base.

The Chargers’ exodus might also provide unforeseen benefits such as distancing HDSA-San Diego from the uncomfortable connection to a sport now linked to brain diseases similar to HD.

“The Chargers organization has been stellar in its support,” Dr. Hoffman wrote, noting the chapter’s gratitude for the players’ “enthusiastic participation” at fundraisers. “We will miss our Chargers.

“That said, the HDSA-San Diego board and all of our wonderful volunteers are hard at work attracting sponsors and making our events even more exciting. Whenever there are changes, there are new opportunities. Our job is to find and leverage these opportunities to their maximum potential.”

Monday, February 08, 2016

The little things that are really big: caregiving in families with Huntington’s disease


The everyday kindness of the back roads more than makes up for the agony of the headlines – Charles Kuralt

As a member of a Huntington’s disease family, I have become deeply familiar with the common yet often unheralded human practice of caregiving.

My “HD warrior” father Paul Serbin cared for my HD-stricken mother Carol for more than a decade.

My mother died ten years ago this week. Her passing sent me into a months-long dual spiral of anxiety and depression: I had inherited the HD gene from her, and seeing her demise provided a portent of my own future (click here to read more).

Because of the inevitability of HD onset, I know that I too will require caregiving.

Furthermore, as a father, I’ve spent the past fifteen years helping my wife Regina raise our daughter Bianca, a special form of caregiving. Bianca tested negative in the womb, thus avoiding the specter of juvenile Huntington’s. As we teach her to drive and begin discussions about college, our role as parents becomes both more rewarding yet more complex.

Three weeks ago, the balance shifted, as Bianca and I became temporary caregivers for Regina: she underwent an operation to repair a torn rotator cuff and must keep her right arm in a sling for at least six weeks.

Completely interdependent

Caregiving is about all of the little – but really big – things we humans do for each other.

It’s how families, hospitals, and nursing homes run.

We are completely interdependent.

As we’ve helped Regina over the past several weeks, the meaning of caregiving has become ever more clear to me.

It involves small but important tasks: bathing her, spraying on deodorant, buttoning her shirt, adjusting her sling, driving her to doctor’s and physical therapy appointments, taking over her share of car pool duties, providing assistance in the kitchen, exercising her disabled arm – these and many more tasks have highlighted for me the importance of caregiving, taught me to be more sensitive to Regina’s needs, and reminded me of what’s most important in life.

Despite a busy high school life, Bianca has helped out, too.

It’s brought us closer together.


Bianca (left), Regina, and Kenneth Serbin (aka Gene Veritas) (photo by Bianca Serbin)

Valid and important emotions

I’m certainly no saint. I’ve done my share of grumbling! And sometimes I feel overwhelmed.

As I’ve learned from news items posted on Facebook HD discussion pages, caregiving experts say it’s okay to experience feelings associated with caregiving such as anger, boredom, frustration, and impatience.

“Whether you become a caregiver gradually or all of sudden due to a crisis, or whether you are a caregiver willingly or by default, many emotions surface when you take on the job of caregiving,” a recent article at Dementia Today states. “Some of these feelings happen right away and some don’t surface until you have been caregiving for awhile. Whatever your situation, it is important to remember that you, too, are important. All of your emotions, good and bad, about caregiving are not only allowed, but valid and important.”

As another article suggests, caregivers need to face emotions directly, find healthy ways to release anger, share feelings with close friends, and take breaks to pursue enjoyment.

These recommendations can apply to short-term caregiving situations such as recovery from an operation but also to long-term situations involving HD, Alzheimer’s disease, and other afflictions.

Overlooked and undervalued

Until my mother went into a nursing home in the final months of her life, my father cared for my mother’s daily needs with the assistance of a professional caregiver who visited their home a few hours each week. He helped her in the bathroom, fed her, and pushed her wheelchair.

She was the love of his life. He was stubborn about accepting more help at home and getting her physical therapy, but each day he climbed with her into the HD trenches.

Not once did I hear him complain. Maybe he should have!

In our celebritocracy, such dedication goes unrecognized. Each year family caregivers are estimated to provide the equivalent of nearly half a trillion dollars in unpaid care.

In America, care and caregiving are “overlooked and undervalued,” writes Zachary White, Ph.D., the author of the blog The Unprepared Caregiver.

Unlike highly valued, professional jobs, informal caregiving isnt considered a career.

“Parents and relatives and friends won’t be able to brag about your experiences.” Dr. White writes. “There are no ‘schools’ of informal caregiving no Harvard or Stanford to use as a guiding goal from which others can respect and admire. Others may speak highly of your role and your efforts, but it begins and ends there.”

While taking care of loved ones, members of the HD and other neurological disease communities have long advocated for better caregiver assistance and nursing home care including disease-specific instruction for health aides. These will remain daunting challenges for the foreseeable future.

Preemptive caregiving

I believe that Regina’s devotion to me and our family is a big reason why I’ve passed my mother’s age of HD onset. She helps provide for the family by working as a full-time elementary school teacher; she sees to it that Bianca and I eat healthily; and she supports my HD advocacy.

She has done a lot of preemptive caregiving.

Caring for Regina during her recovery and remembering my mother’s struggles with Huntington’s have led me to reflect on my future caregiving needs.

As I race against the genetic clock and await the development of treatments for this incurable disorder and a health care system more responsive to those with brain diseases, I want to avoid becoming a burden on my family.

By maintaining good health in the present, I can perhaps reduce that future burden.

However, I know that, for each HD family, this is uncharted territory. We can forge ahead by caring for our our family members – and for the larger community.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Creating a Christmas memory for a Huntington’s family

As he slowly succumbs to Huntington’s disease, Dan Boyle of Bakersfield, CA, is building a legacy for his five-year-old at-risk son Colby to remember when the symptoms make impossible his greatest professional love: conducting music.

On the evening of December 19, with his musically inclined wife Audrey and Colby present, Dan, 45, will lead the Poway High School Band in a performance of “Russian Christmas Music,” the piece that inspired him to pursue a musical career when he played trumpet in the band in the mid-1980s.

“Every aspect of music is cool,” Dan said as we sat outside the Poway High band room this morning after he conducted a half-hour rehearsal of the song along with 175 band members. “I just want him to see this particular aspect. He can already pick up my trumpet and make a sound. He’s been to all our performances. The more avenues he can see, the better.”

A tradition more than three decades old, the annual Poway High Winter Band Concert involves band alumni in the performance. This year, because of Dan’s popularity and his struggle against HD, alumni from around the country and as far off as Japan will visit and play their instruments under his direction.

“He’s the last person in the world that deserves this, although we knew there was a possibility,” said Ron Schei, a childhood friend who lives near Toyko, referring to Dan’s diagnosis and his family’s history of HD. “It’s just a horrible, horrible thing.

“It’s a beautiful event. It’ll be important for Dan and for us. And if it leads to more awareness – most people don’t know about Huntington’s – and brings in some donations for the cure, it’ll have a positive effect.”

“They want to share that experience with him,” Sylvester Sybilski, the assistant band director, said of Dan’s friends. “That’s what I think is touching everyone’s heart: how he’s trying to create these moments for his son and videotape them so that eventually, when the disease gets the best of him, his son will have a record of all these events he’s going to be doing for the next five, ten years.”

Christmas this year has a special meaning for Dan. “Seeing how many friends are coming, it really makes you feel good,” he said.



Ron Schei (left) with friends Colby and Dan Boyle at Poway High School (photo by Gene Veritas)

The first symptoms

Over the years, Dan had garnered recognition for his musical talent and leadership. A native of Rancho Bernardo, CA, he was part of a world champion drum corps team at the University of California, Los Angeles, where he and Audrey met while both receiving degrees in music education. In Bakersfield, CA, where the couple worked as music educators, he was teacher of the year at Highland High School, and in Kern County he was named jazz educator of the year, orchestra educator of the year, and band director of the year.

However, Dan’s fate would include an encounter with HD. His mother, aunt, and grandmother all died of HD. He first noticed symptoms in himself in 2009 and received an official diagnosis in 2010.

After more than a decade of employment, he was no longer able to work. He receives a public school teacher’s pension and Social Security disability, while Audrey, 40, continues to work as a junior high school music instructor and band director.

In a typical progression of HD symptoms, Dan said that he can no longer multi-task, and his short-term memory is bad.

“Packing yesterday, there were three different times when I went to get the same item,” he said with a bit of a chuckle. “In the big realm of things, I would rather have short-term than long-term memory loss. Long-term is your real memories. Short-term is convenience.”

Fear of falling

HD is also affecting him physically. He has a still mild version of the involuntary movements experienced by most HD patients. His eyes move irregularly or sometimes seem to stare into space, and his face freezes up. He also has some difficulty in speaking.

“I used to hike and ski,” Dan said. “I was never very fast, but I hiked the Grand Canyon rim to rim back in 2005.

“I just started to feel weaker. I hadn’t gone skiing since Colby was born, and last winter we went. Before I was diagnosed, I could do the intermediate slopes. (This time) I was on the easiest slope there was, and I fell like ten times.”

He adds, chuckling, “I have no sense of balance! I think I know when to say when.”

Falling presents the biggest threat to Dan’s health. He recently needed to receive staples for a gash he suffered on his head. During our conversation, he turned his head to show me a very large, red bump on the back of his head from another fall just yesterday.

He plans to start using a motorized wheelchair soon.

Dan also suffers from diabetes caused by another genetic condition, hemochromatosis.

“I won the lottery, I guess,” he said with a laugh.

The conductor’s passion

However, HD’s onslaught has not stopped Dan from conducting again for the first time in several years. In today’s rehearsal of “Russian Christmas Music,” he sat in a conductor’s chair and will do so again at the concert.

“I conducted ever day, five hours a day,” Dan recalled. “When you teach music, you stand all day. It would never bother me, even a little bit.

“Over the last six to eight months, I have noticed an extreme shrinking of the time that I can stand without pain.”

Sylvester and band director Mike Cook are “bending over backwards” to make it possible for him to conduct, Dan said. He happily complied with Mike’s request for a taped audition.


Poway High School band director Mike Cook (left) and assistant director Sylvester Sybilski (photo by Gene Veritas)

“You can easily ruin a performance as a conductor, and because the score is an advanced score, he just wanted to make sure I could still do it,” Dan said.

Although Dan experienced some HD movements during the rehearsal, he successfully finished the piece along with the students.

“’Russian Christmas Music’ is a very challenging piece of music,” said Sylvester. “So, even for someone in perfect health, it would be a challenge. I think it went very well.”

“His mind seems pretty clear,” noted Mike, adding that Dan has “an extremely bright wit” and an “obviously still strong” sense of humor.

“It’s a pretty cool feeling to get to control all that sound at once and have it respond to you,” Dan said of the work of conducting. “I couldn’t believe I didn’t really have any good videos of me conducting. I have lots of me playing, but not of my conducting. I’m glad they gave me the opportunity to do this.”

You can watch the rehearsal in the video below.


Planning a future for Colby

Dan is also writing an autobiography he wants Colby to read someday. It will include fatherly advice for a young man. It will also address the family’s experience with HD.

During our interview, Colby sat next to Dan. Engrossed in a hand-held video game, Colby raised five fingers when asked to tell his age.

Like many HD families, the Boyles faced difficult decisions. Colby was born not long before Dan’s symptoms began. Even though the couple knew of Dan’s risk for HD, he had not been tested. Nor did they resort to methods for avoiding the transmission of the mutation. They preferred to let life take its natural course.

“Obviously I worried about passing it on,” said Dan. “I just figure there’s always hope for the cure. He could get hit by a bus tomorrow. I could, too. I got a scholarship to UCLA. I played trumpet in 40 of the 50 states. I’ve travelled. I’ve done a lot of good things. Hopefully he’ll be able to experience those things before whatever.”

However, Dan and Audrey are proactive about his HD. They keep informed about the latest developments in HD research. They attended the annual convention of the Huntington’s Disease Society of America in Jacksonville this year and in Las Vegas in 2012. Dan is also participating in a clinical trial to examine the efficacy of the supplement creatine. He plans to enter any other trial for which he qualifies in the future.

“I just want to make sure, whether Colby has it or not, that I’ve done everything possible to help the cause of research,” Dan said. “That’s one of my big responsibilities. When I was a kid they said, ‘Oh, you don’t really have to worry about it, because by the time you’re old enough, they’ll have it cured.’ I remember hearing that time and time again. But that didn’t happen.”

It’s never too late

For now, Dan is taking advantage of every moment.

He uses music, especially playing the trumpet, to try to stave off the impact of HD on his brain.

“There’s so many decisions every second in music,” he said. “It's unbelievable how active your brain is while you’re playing.”

He, Audrey, and Colby will spend Christmas at home in Bakersfield – preceded, of course, by Dan putting out milk and cookies for Colby and Santa Claus.

Audrey didn’t believe people still did that. “She found out the hard way,” Dan said.

“One of the silver linings of this is, because I am home for Colby, I feed him every day, I give him his bath, I wash his clothes, I do his homework with him, I read to him,” Dan said. “We have a really close relationship.”

Dan has a simple message for the HD community, one he will put into practice on December 19: “It’s easy to withdraw and just go into a shell, but it’s never too late to do some of the things that you’ve always done.”

(The winter concert, which will take place in the Poway High School gymnasium, starts at 7. The event is open to the public. Admission is $5. The band directors recommend arriving early to obtain seating. The school is located at 15500 Espola Road.)

Friday, May 31, 2013

Strangling of patient in nursing home a shuddering reminder of subpar care for Huntington’s disease

The strangling and serious injury of a 49-year-old, late-stage Huntington’s disease patient at an Oregon nursing home has shocked the HD community and provided a shuddering reminder of the subpar care, fueled by ignorance and approaching neglect, that some affected by the disease face.

Anne Haskins was allegedly strangled by another patient who used  a call cord ripped from the wall after Haskins, wheelchair-bound and cognitively disabled, wandered into the other woman’s room shortly before 9 p.m. PDT on May 28, said Rebecca Ambrose, 29, Anne’s daughter.

There’s no evidence Anne deliberately provoked the other patient, whom police described as suffering from “severe dementia,” but her HD chorea – the involuntary movements typical in HD – means she can inadvertently hit people with her arms.

Anne was taken to Bay Area Hospital, located in Coos Bay, OR. After the attack, her heart rate dropped to the dangerously low rate of around 30 beats per minute, said Rebecca in a phone interview on May 30.

Anne is currently in the hospital’s cardiac unit. Doctors offered the option of a pacemaker, but the family decided against one because they believe it would simply help to prolong suffering, Rebecca said.

“She may have lost too much oxygen to the brain to recover from this,” she added.

The incident took place at Avamere Rehabilitation of Coos Bay, a private facility where Anne has resided since August of 2009.



Anne Haskins, grandson Andrew, and dog Scarlet, about ten years ago, before HD left her unable to speak and care for herself (family photo)

‘Where was the staff?’

According to the Coos Bay police, the alleged perpetrator is under observation in the psychiatric ward at Bay Area Hospital. Avamere has prohibited the alleged perpetrator from returning to its facility, Rebecca added.

“Where was the staff???” Rebecca exclaimed in several private Facebook HD discussion groups. Rebecca agreed to allow inclusion of her Facebook comments in this article.

On the night of the attack, the certified nurses assistants (CNAs), the main caregivers at the facility, should have put Anne to bed by 7:30. However, she was still moving around in her wheelchair around 9. No CNA noticed that she entered the other woman’s room. A CNA came upon the injured Anne sometime later, said Rebecca.

The police received a call for help at 8:49 p.m. According to Officer Randy Sparks, the lead detective on the case, a nurse, responding to the call alarm from the room, intervened to assist Anne.

“It just makes me angry,” Rebecca said. “I felt that it could have been foreseen. It makes me angry to think that my mom could be killed, and neither the person who did it nor the nursing home could be liable for it.

“How could one bedridden patient strangle another bedridden patient and no CNA have a clue? There were five CNAs on the floor, according to the director of the home.”

According to Deborah Nedelcove, Avamere’s vice president of risk management and its chief compliance and privacy officer, 42 residents currently occupy the 90-bed Coos Bay facility.



Above, the strangulation mark on Anne's neck. Below, daughter Liz with Anne in Bay Area Hospital (family photos)



Detective Sparks has concluded his investigation and forwarded his report to the district attorney’s office. However, those authorities have already have informed Rebecca that criminal charges will not likely be filed because of the mental state of the alleged perpetrator, Rebecca explained.

The alleged perpetrator is not currently under arrest.

“The police can investigate if there is a criminal action by a patient,” she added. “They cannot investigate neglect by nursing home staff.”

Avamere’s response

Debbie Lane, the Avamere director of nursing, refused comment on the case, as did Britta Milius, the nurse in charge when I called the facility the evening of May 30.

VP Nedelcove, who works at the Wilsonville, OR, corporate headquarters of the 50-facility private company primarily doing business in Oregon and Washington, declined to comment on specifics of the case but offered some observations about the facility and Avamere’s policies, procedures, and philosophy.

“I have never heard of an incident like this,” Nedelcove, who has some thirty years’ experience in health care, said of the strangulation and Rebecca’s allegation of inadequate monitoring of patients. “This is an isolated incident. It was not expected. You can’t account for people who decide at a moment’s notice to do something.”

Nedelcove insisted that Avamere CNAs “definitely keep an eye on all of our residents all the time…. There are many residents in our facilities, and many of them have behavior issues.”

Avamere is conducting an internal investigation of the incident and, based on its conclusions, may alter procedures at the facility, Nedelcove added.

Seeking assistance

However, Rebecca has already contacted state oversight agencies and local media outlets.

She has also obtained assistance from the Northwest Chapter of the Huntington’s Disease Society of America (HDSA). However, HDSA cannot assist with placing Anne in a different facility because Anne, before symptoms worsened, had refused to give power of attorney to any of her relatives, preventing the sharing of medical information with an outside agency, Rebecca explained.

Rebecca posted pictures of her mother’s injury on the Avamere Facebook page, but the company removed them and then blocked her from posting additional images. She also placed a sign on the front door of the facility denouncing the strangling but doesn’t know if it remains.

Rebecca and other family members fought a hospital’s staffer's recommendation that Anne return to Avamere and will place her in a different facility, Myrtle Point Care Center.

Rebecca is also consulting private attorneys about potential legal action.

Denouncing neglect

“I’m really disgusted with this,” said Rebecca, a family advocate for a non-profit who tested negative for HD in 2006 and has identified some 50 descendants of an HD-stricken great grandmother who are at risk of inheriting the mutation. “I’ve told them I’m not going to be quiet about this.



Rebecca Ambrose (personal photo)

“I feel like I already have to be robbed of my mother. I feel a lot of times like I have to be the mother to my siblings and my child, and I have to take on a lot of what a grandparent would do, because my mom isn’t able to.

“I can still visit my mother. That’s being taken from me slowly. I didn’t expect my mom to be in a nursing home and have an incident that could cause her death. I always thought her disease process would cause her death. I understand that there are going to be falls out of the shower or the bed. But there’s no excuse for somebody to strangle my mother and for her not to be protected in facility that gets $80,000 a year to care for her.

“I’m livid and I’m horrified. My mom used to watch that movie One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. I hate that movie. It’s one of the saddest movies I’ve watched in my life. That’s the state of nursing homes in America today.

“I just want to talk to whoever is going to listen to me. This can’t happen to people –when you entrust someone’s life! My mom is in a facility for her own protection, not to be neglected. I can assure you that nobody in my home would strangle my mother. I wish there were options that were not for profit. These people do it for profit.”

Care providers: a mixed bag

According to Rebecca, in early 2012 a man visiting Avamere to see his wife became angry at Anne and tried to punch her because an employee had accidentally taken his chair to Anne’s room.

Anne also suffers from bed sores, and she sometimes does not get her spoon-fed evening meal until late at night, Rebecca said. The CNAs bathe Anne, left incontinent by HD, just once a week, which understandably leaves a patient uncomfortable.

“It’s really a mixed bag with the care providers,” Rebecca said, referring to the CNAs, the main caregivers but also the lowest rung in the nursing home hierarchy. “Some love and care for her and take the time to feed her and meet her needs. Others fear her and skip over her as a patient or try and put it off on somebody else.”

Rebecca said that she has witnessed CNAs taking as long as two hours to respond to a call for assistance from patients. Nedelcove said CNAs usually respond within minutes.

Because the law prohibits a patient from being restrained, the facility cannot legally set the brakes of Anne’s wheelchair, to which she is bound by two straps.

As a result, Anne bumps into other residents in the dining room, knocks over food, and inadvertently hits people with her arms because of her chorea. To avoid these difficulties, Anne takes her meals in her room, Rebecca said.

Many of the CNAs have few or no qualifications, Rebecca continued.

Nursing homes hire “anybody off the street,” she said, adding, however, that several good facilities exist for HD people in various parts of the country.

“It’s an entry-level job,” Nedelcove admitted, noting that it’s “not a glamorous field.”

“It’s a calling rather than a profession,” she said.

However, she emphasized that all Avamere CNAs receive academic and clinical training and are state-certified.

“Most of them come to us with a great deal of experience,” she said.

A criticism of public agencies

In 2009, Anne was sent to the nursing home to recover from an operation needed after her HD symptoms had caused her to fall and injure her brain.

For a while, Anne had hospice care, as her weight had fallen to about 90 pounds. However, after her diet and weight improved, she no longer needed hospice.

Public agencies will not fund the 24-hour home care that would serve as an alternative to placing the patient in a nursing home, Rebecca explained.

“They will pay the nursing home over $6,000 a month to pay for somebody to give such little attention to my mother that she could get strangled, but they will not pay for better care at the same rate in my home,” she said.

Grossly misunderstanding HD

CNAs, Rebecca said, need better preparation in order to take “care of our elderly and the most vulnerable in society.”

Those vulnerable include thousands of HD patients, who, along with their families, face enormous difficulties in finding facilities that understand the disease and will take in someone with HD.

Rebecca recalled her family’s encounter with a past director of nursing at Avamere.

“They usually deal only in comatose patients, not the kind that can call down the hallway,” she said. The nursing director told Rebecca that “my mother needed to stop calling down the hallway, because HD is not a crutch and my mom is responsible for her own behavior.” The nursing director stated that if Anne couldn’t control her calls down the hallway, she could be evicted from the home.

“If you even say the word Huntington’s disease, nursing homes don’t want to talk with you,” Rebecca said, noting that most facilities focus on young people who are developmentally delayed or on the elderly, thus missing the middle years, the period where most HD people experience onset of symptoms.

Rebecca worked to educate the Avamere staff about HD. She arranged for the facility's previous director to participate in HDSA-sponsored caregiving webinars. He passed on information about HD to many of the staff. This “gave them some enlightenment,” Rebecca said.

However, because of recent high turnover at the home, including the removal of that previous director, few current employees have knowledge of HD, she said.

HDSA’s response and recommendations

Staffers at the HDSA national office in New York expressed deep concern about the incident and are closely monitoring the situation in Coos Bay. However, HDSA cannot comment on the specifics of the case in order not to violate patient privacy.

HDSA urges families to carefully research facilities before placing a loved one. It provides a number of publications, articles, and other materials regarding long-term care on its national website.

It also offers free in-service trainings for long-term care facilities.

As previously reported, many in the HD community have asked HDSA to provide funding for care. However, with an annual budget of only $8.5 million, the organization could not begin to provide such assistance. Families must rely on Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, and other government programs, as well as long-term health care insurance and other private insurances.


(In a future article: how segments of the HD community have strived to provide better care for patients).