Moment’s after each year’s Super Bowl triumph, in an ancient ritual known as selling out, a jubilant football player is bribed to shout, “I’m going to Disneyland!” (Or Disney World, depending on what the marketing gurus have decided.)
Recently I had an opposite, far more sobering realization: I’m not going to Disneyland.
The way I said it in my mind was melancholy, teetering toward sad, proving why I’m rarely hired to scream corporate slogans in public settings.
I’ve always loved Disneyland, and have spent many happy days there as a child, with a child, and as an adult or whatever I am now. So to suddenly be struck with the knowledge that I’ll likely never see it again was unwelcome and … probably true.
Not because I couldn’t. I’m sure I could somehow make it happen if I allocated the time and resources while wishing upon a star. But life gets crazy and decades spin past like tea cups, and now that I’m far closer to the end of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride than the beginning, it’s just a reality.
I’m not going to Disneyland.
I’m sure you have something like that in your own life — maybe a different favorite place, or a treasured activity or interest. Somewhere you used to love to go, or something you used to passionately do. But then, for a multitude of possible reasons, you just didn’t anymore, as the years flew by.
That’s why I’m such an advocate for wish fulfillment programs in long-term care facilities. Every resident we serve has a Disneyland (or many), in their past, and they carry a gnawing void inside where so much of their old life used to be. Finding and filling it should always be top of mind.
I’ve witnessed so many beautiful moments over the years, dreams come true that were mostly facilitated by facility staff who truly took the time to listen, care and act.
Like the resident on oxygen who was lifted into the saddle for one last horseback ride, or the former hiker pushed uphill by staff for a mile in a wheelchair just to help him experience his favorite view one more time.
I’ve seen residents ride motorcycles, sky dive and swim with dolphins. One beautiful lady I knew even came off hospice for a time after her impossible dream was fulfilled.
Fulfilling wishes yields benefits for all concerned. Residents display an excitement and energy they haven’t felt in years, and staff feel a boost in meaning and purpose that can get obscured in the daily challenges of delivering long-term care.
And it starts with just one simple question for every resident we serve: What’s your Disneyland?
From the July/August 2024 Issue of McKnight's Long-Term Care News
