Assisted-Living Facility Gets Technology Assist 

By Janet Kornblum, USA TODAY 

July 6, 2006

A screen grab from a website that lets family of elderly residents at Oatfield Estates monitor where their loved one is and what their living habits are.


Sometimes late at night, Rayna Jacobson needs to know her dad is OK. He lives only across town, but he's 83 and has Alzheimer's disease. She worries.

So she logs onto the website for the assisted-living facility where he lives and sees with her own eyes: a little icon of a figure in bed. It means her father's asleep. 

"It's kind of like, 'ahhh," she says. "It gives me a comforting feeling."

Her father lives at Oatfield Estates, a high-tech assisted-living facility set in the shadow of Mount Hood, where residents are electronically measured and monitored 24/7. And for the most part, they love it. So do their families.

Jacobson, 55, and the rest of her family can visit the website any time to check on her father, Jack Jacobson, a retired nuclear engineer and financial planner. They can see where he is at any moment; what he does throughout the day, week or month; how warm or cool his room is; and how often he calls for help. 

They can even see how often he socializes and how much he weighs.

As the USA's 79 million baby boomers grow older, the nation is about to hit a caregiver crisis, says Andrew Carle, director of the Program in Assisted Living/Senior Housing Administration at George Mason University in Fairfax, Va. 

"We're not going to have enough labor in the coming decades to take care of up to 20 million 85-year-olds in their homes," but technology "can enhance our productivity and make us better at our jobs."

Facilities such as Oatfield Estates, which opened in 2000, "represent a future of assisted living. Technology can work in combination with human touch to improve quality of life for seniors," Carle says.

Nestled in the wooded Portland suburb of Milwaukie, Oatfield is the first development opened by Elite Care, owned and founded by husband-and-wife team Bill Reed, 58, and Lydia Lundberg, 54. 

Though using technology to help care for older people may sound cold and machinelike, they thought it would help humanize care. 

For instance, while many facilities for people with Alzheimer's have locked doors, Oatfield uses sensors to determine when people wander off the 6-acre campus, so doors don't have to be locked.

The technology also can help track the health of residents less intrusively than humans do. Sensors track how social a resident is, how often he goes out, how much time he spends alone, how much weight he has gained or lost, or how restless he is. Families and staff can use that information to notice possible problems, such as a resident spending more time sleeping or getting up at night more often.

Lundberg got her first taste of institutional care for the elderly in 1971 when she came to the USA from Germany and took a job in a nursing home. 

"I remember pushing this gentleman down this long hallway. He was yelling and screaming, 'I don't want to go! I don't want to go!' And I, as a 19-year-old, had the power to make him go. It was fundamentally wrong, and I knew that, but it was my job."

More than three decades later, she's trying to change the system. 

"The underlying philosophy is: We would live here," she says.

Homey surroundings 

"Here" is the six-acre property where 72 residents live in six two-story homes, each with its own staff. Each home has two separate central living areas. 

Upstairs is the open kitchen and adjoining dining room with country-style wooden tables and chairs. Cooks make everything from scratch, and residents have a say in menu choices. On one recent evening, a cook was preparing a typical dinner of sautéed shrimp, onions, feta cheese and fresh-baked bread.

Downstairs is a family room with a large-screen TV. Activities include outings, computer classes and meditation — a request of one resident. Residential suites, built around the central area, consist of a small bedroom and living area for each resident or couple. 

Rooms are as homey as a resident wants, with their own decorations and furniture. Some are bright colors; many are filled with family pictures, art and heirlooms.

Several staff members live on site, though not in the same house where they work, to create a kind of intergenerational community.

Kelly Nickerson, 34, moved in 3½ years ago with her son Jake. Now 4, Jake is like an adopted grandchild. On a recent day, his lemonade sale had plenty of customers.

Nickerson says she had planned to raise her son alone but "fell in love with this place. I just saw this unconditional village to raise my child." In fact, it has become so much her home that when she was recently accepted to nursing school in Hawaii, she decided not to go. She's hoping to go to school nearby and continue working at Oatfield.

The property has a fish pond and organic gardens with prized roses and edibles such as basil, parsley, green peppers and shallots. Residents meander the paved paths plucking strawberries or raspberries off the vine.

On first impression, a visitor probably would not even think about technology.
There are no visible wires; the telltale signs that this might be a high-tech facility are largely unobtrusive. But the technology is there. One just has to know where to look: a closet door where wires connect with servers; a basement where generators and gray metal utility boxes are mounted on the walls; a bell that chimes from a computer in the kitchen, prompting the cook to walk over to the screen to see who needs help.

Residents and staff wear small black infrared badges that send invisible signals to sensors scattered around the property. The sensors can pinpoint the location of the badge wearer. Employees can access the information on a computer network through a password-protected website; family members have password-protected access to their loved ones' information.

When residents need help, they just push a button on their badge, and staff members get an alert. Bed sensors can be programmed to monitor weight and alert staff when someone gets out of bed.

Oatfield demonstrates what can be done with today's technology, says Russell Bodoff, executive director of Center for Aging Services Technologies in Washington, D.C., a not-for-profit membership organization that promotes technology for the elderly. Elite Care is one of more than 600 members.

Not for everybody 

Not all residents would thrive in this environment, Lundberg says. Applicants are screened for their ability to fit in. Those who are combative, aggressive or otherwise antisocial are generally rejected.

And there's a cost barrier. Oatfield Estates costs $3,580 to $6,000 a month, depending on the level of care. The national average cost for elderly assisted living in 2005 was $2,905, according to Metlife Mature Market Institute. 

Some people might feel that having their activities constantly tracked borders on Big Brother. But residents are allowed to revoke access to anyone at any time.

Lester "Ray" Croft, who has had a leg amputated and uses a wheelchair, holds up his badge and says, "This is a lifesaver. The other day I was in the rose garden, and I got stuck twice," he says, explaining how the wheels of his chair sometimes get hung up in the dirt.

Not long ago, he decided to revoke his oldest daughter's viewing privileges. "I love her to pieces." But "she got into too much of being a caregiver from the side and wanted me to do more than I thought I could do." 

When residents come to live at Oatfield, they decide who can access the information collected through the technology. Residents are given full control over the information. Most are happy to have family members checking in on them.

Florence Westerhausen, 94, loves the fact that her daughter checks in on her: "I'm glad that she's interested in me."

Westerhausen says she'll stay at Oatfield the rest of her life. 

"And I'll be happy here, too, because I'm involved in a whole lot of activities — tai chi, meditation and literature, group singalong. It's exceptionally friendly. I don't feel like I'm 94 now." 

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