For lots of good reasons, a long-term care facility hallway should not be the same as a hiking trail.
Protruding rocks and exposed tree roots would create a fall hazard, and make med cart navigation difficult. Bear-repelling bells on every employee’s ankles would generate an unhealthy cacophony. And we would certainly prefer that staff and residents use a proper bathroom, rather than ducking behind the nearest potted plant.
But in at least one way, acting like we’re on a remote mountain path should be a high priority for every facility leader and staff member.
Why? For the human connections.
I’m usually a rather shy person, easily meeting the definition of a Canadian extrovert — someone who looks at the other person’s shoes. But for some reason on the trail, I turn into a regular chatterbox. As other hikers approach, I say hello if they didn’t say it first, and in passing we often engage on pressing topics such as weather, route or dog cuteness level.
I call it “trail banter,” and I’ve come to genuinely enjoy the interactions, no matter how brief or superficial. Sometimes if I’m feeling especially brave, I’ll make some sort of joke at my own expense, usually targeting my advanced age, sluggish pace and pitiful fitness level. Some folks would rather breeze on past without acknowledging my existence, but most seem eager to connect, and regardless, I’m usually glad I tried.
Because hiking is always on my mind these days, lately I’ve been noticing how much some facility hallways can feel like one of those chatty forest trails. While visiting a post-acute care campus recently, my administrator host kept interrupting our conversation every few feet to greet a resident or staff member, asking about their day, their kids or grandkids, their mood, how they slept last night or any other little thing. No matter who it was or the important task we’d left her office to accomplish, she still took the time to stop and engage. It was really just trail banter, long-term care style.
You’ve probably noticed the same thing, or its absence, depending on a facility’s culture and people. One harried CNA in a dreadful hurry sees a resident sitting in a wheelchair and still pauses to say hello, while another rushes on like he didn’t notice. Stroll with any staff member down one of those halls and you’ll get a clear window into who’s there to create moments of true meaning and connection, and who’s just doing a job.
Now that I think about it, perhaps this would be a good exercise to help evaluate potential new employees. Once you’ve conducted your typical job interview, send the candidate out on the floor alone and watch whether they try to engage with residents or other staff. If they make an effort, even despite the discomfort of being a stranger, welcome them to the team. If not, they should probably keep right on walking.
At every step on every hike, I’ve learned I’m better and happier whenever I reach beyond my personality or comfort zone and engage with others on the same journey, and I believe that applies equally well in the world of long-term care. Far from forests and mountains, in any facility hallway, you can transform someone’s world, and probably your own, through the honesty and power of a little trail banter.
Things I Think is written by Gary Tetz, a two-time national Silver Medalist and three-time regional Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Association of Business Press Editors (ASBPE) awards program, as well as an Award of Excellence honoree in the APEX Awards. He’s been amusing, inspiring, informing and sometimes befuddling long-term care readers worldwide since the end of a previous century. He is a writer and video producer for Consonus Healthcare Services in Portland, OR.
The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.
