The box remained unpacked from coast to coast. Needing to clear out the closet in my office, I finally opened it and looked at the contents. At the bottom of the box was a plain journal, pages folded over from time.
As I folded them back, the words leaped out at me. I had written them over 40 years ago: “My goal is not to be defined by my age.” These were words written through the lens of youth and ignorance.
I wrote those words several weeks after my grandmother had passed away. She was a woman who treated everyone with kindness. I cherished her love and wanted to emulate her heart and spirit as I matured. I saw her as a woman who aged gracefully.
Sadly, her doctors and care providers did not know the woman I knew; they only saw a woman who had lost her vision and ability to walk. In the journal was a piece of paper where her doctor had written, “Mrs. W. is an elderly woman who is legally blind, with limited mobility.” The words on the paper jumped out at me as I read them repeatedly. My grandmother is being defined by her age and her co-morbidities.
Nothing in those words described the woman I knew. Yes, she was legally blind, yet she adapted. She was a gifted seamstress, and when she could no longer see, she developed a system of placing her needles in certain parts of the curtains to tell her the thread’s color by the needle’s placement. When I would visit, I gingerly opened the curtains, trying not to be stuck by needles.
I sat on the office floor, holding the doctor’s history and physical (H&P). Why had I kept this for more than 40 years? I then started crying as I remembered the why. I had tucked her H&P into my journal to remind myself how healthcare saw her and how it drastically differed from my viewpoint. I saw her not as a blind old woman but as a beautiful, talented individual who had lived in the wilds of Montana. She met hardship head-on and never let it break her spirit.
When I reread the words, I felt like I was reading a recent dictation about an older adult in 2024. The words have stayed the same, and the lack of understanding of the person in totality is still glaringly absent. Older adults are still being defined by their age and the labeling of body systems failing or potentially failing. Where is the person’s life story? How do we, as caregivers, know what is important to them?
I never thought I would say that artificial intelligence might be the answer to our struggles with knowledge and truth. Yet here I go. It was a routine doctor visit. He asked if I would be comfortable using artificial intelligence to capture the visit. I wanted to appear as technology-suave; of course, I was OK.
He asked me to share what I wanted him to know. The first words out of my mouth were, I am a nurse. Then, I went into further details. When I read the encounter, it stated, “Ms. Moore is a nurse. She wants you to partner with her in her healthcare. She will not respond well to not listening or talking down to her.”
Through just a few minutes of conversation and the power of artificial intelligence, I was accurately described to anyone who would read the dictation.
Our older adults deserve to be seen without the bias of ageism or labels of diagnoses — artificial intelligence just might lead the way in reshaping the lens of healthcare and the older adult.
It is about time!
Martie L. Moore, MAOM, RN, CPHQ, is the President/CEO of M2WL Consulting. She has been an executive healthcare leader for more than 20 years. She has served on advisory boards for the National Pressure Injury Advisory Panel, American Nurses Association, Dean’s Advisory Board at the University of Central Florida College of Nursing and Sigma, International Honor Society for Nursing. She was honored by Saint Martin’s University with an honorary doctorate degree for her service and accomplishments in advancing healthcare.
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