Meet Murphy and All His Inlaws

I make frequent reference in these posts to Murphy's Law, a principle I'm very familiar with, but until this morning I didn't know who Murphy was. Thanks to Robin Stephens, whose blog appears on About.com, we are now enlightened:

Captain Edward A. Murphy was an air force engineer who worked at Edwards Air Force base on a 1949 project studying how much sudden deceleration a person can stand. During the experiments, 16 accelerometers were mounted to a human subject's body to measure impact during a crash. Upon discovering that a technician had installed all 16 incorrectly, Murphy exclaimed angrily, "If there is any way to do it wrong, he'll find it." Murphy's comment was quoted at a press conference and due to its nugget of universal truth, a generic form of the "law" quickly spread. It made it to the dictionary in 1958.

Robin also included 17 other maxims you can take to the bank, like:

• Whatever you set out to do, something else must be done first.

• The buddy system is essential to your survival; it gives the enemy somebody else to shoot at.

• The opulence of the front office decor varies inversely with the fundamental solvency of the firm.

That last one applies perfectly to the corporately-owned nursing home my mother just moved out of Monday. An imposing, airy common room with vaulting ceilings, lots of glass, lovely carpeting and art on the walls...and a staff that was constantly revolving, turning over and clueless. They would gather together for group chitchats in the shower room while Mother was getting a bath, an unnerving experience (she finally started begging my sister to be there for her showers). Patients were carted out and parked in front of the TV all day, with no assistance to the bathroom. Cries for help, even fights in the hallways among the more pugnacious patients were ignored. Nobody knew where anything was, there were rarely clean towels. Mother's clothing was passed out to other patients. Bed checks were supposed to be made at night, every two hours, but Mother fell out of bed twice because the rails weren't put up. No one seemed to be accountable, there was talk of mass layoffs and we suspected the whole enterprise was in trouble.

So she has been moved again, for the fifth time in a year, to another home which was recently rated one of the highest in the region in terms of quality care. It's not a pretty place. I was there when Judy and I did our tour in August, and was put off by the unattractive building (it looks like it was constructed from prefabs), but appearances aren't everything. This one is employee-owned rather than corporate-owned, and most of the staff have been there for years. The cost is the same.

And how's she doing? She's out of her wheelchair and getting around on a walker my sister bought at a yard sale for two bucks. She needs a little navigating help; without it she tends to angle off into the walls. Recently she remarked: "This thing has a mind of its own." She can feed herself, so she doesn't have to sit with the catatonics.

Things may still go wrong. I'm not expecting perfection, but I have hope that life will be better for Mom in her new home.

Happy New Year, Mom.