My friend lived here for about eight years, most of them in misery because of the management and staff of this awful place. Physically, it's beautiful. It offers many intellectual activities for residents. However, the fun and stimulation the activities might have provided were greatly offset by a truly appalling lack of care and concern for my friend's well being. She felt like a prisoner there, and the only reasons she did not leave earlier than she did were that she felt arranging a move would be a tremendous burden on her busy family, and she also had two dear friends living at Montgomery Place (M.P.).
The majority of the people who work at M.P. appear to greatly resent being there. They are surly, slow, and punitive. They spread a mortifying and completely untrue rumor about my friend early on in her stay, then used that hostile rumor to justify ignoring or responding ridiculously slowly to any request for help my friend had, even when her husband was dying. After his death, her response to the unwarranted hostility she encountered from the staff was to hide in her apartment and read most of the time she lived there, so afraid was she of encountering staff members en route to an activity.
Her apartment was so hot in the winter that she had no choice but to keep windows open an inch or two, which in turn made the thermostat pour still more heat into the rooms. Whenever she asked the maintenance man to correct the problem with the thermostat, which she did every year, he took literally weeks to show up. I visited every year for a week in the winter, and every single year, I was either sweltering or freezing in that apartment at night. It was never a comfortable temperature.
The food was okay in the beginning, but the salad bar, the best part of meals at M.P., was taken away some years ago. Most food at M.P. is now canned, frozen or bottled, food that is worth FAR less nutritionally and is FAR less palatable than is reasonable for daily fare, given the high price residents are forced to pay for it. Canned tomato soup and dry, cheap pizza for dinner? That's a meal?
On the rare occasions when my friend or her family needed to talk to management about something, responses took literally weeks or months. Without repeated calls, no one responded at all. I had the impression that the management was simply unavailable, regardless of the issue, so there was no point in asking for help from administration about anything. The only time in eight years that administration at M.P. was visible to me was when there was a problem with my friend's monthly bill toward the end of her stay. More precisely, management was trying to get more money from her. Then, and only then, did she and her family hear from administration.
I think the institution promises families that someone will knock on the door of every apartment every morning to make sure that every resident is okay, but M.P. does not do that. I rarely heard anyone knock on my friend's door to check on her.
I'll tell you the experience that finally broke the camel's back, though, convincing my friend that she HAD to leave M.P. She broke her leg, and after returning to the retirement home following her hospitalization, she was sent to the skilled care unit rather than her apartment because she could not get around yet without help. The call button in her shared room did not work, so she had no choice but to defecate and urinate on herself in her bed, then lie in her own waste for literally hours, the odor wafting around her and her roommate, until the unconcerned staff happened to wander into her room. My friend had this experience every single day she was in the skilled unit. No one wanted to help her or her roommate. On this unit, the neglect was nothing personal -- they just didn't care. My friend developed a bad rash that would have become bed sores had she been forced to stay in that unit any longer than she was. She was bathed and had help washing her hair once a week. Once a week. Can you imagine how dirty you would feel, especially if you had been lying daily for hours in your own excrement? My friend found her experience there disgusting and humiliating, and as soon as she got back to her apartment, she made arrangements through her family to move to a place where actual care is provided to the elderly and incapacitated. She left because she was terrified that if she ever needed long-term skilled nursing care, she would be left in a bed to rot at Montgomery Place.
In sum, regardless of the intellect of the population at Montgomery Place, regardless of the stimulating activities, I would not allow my dog to move in. I hate that place for what they did to my sweet, wonderful, kind friend, who spent most of her adult life teaching and loving underprivileged kids in the ghetto of Chicago. She did not deserve the cruelty she was shown at Montgomery Place, nor does anyone else. read more