ExtraCare for the Third Age

It's still the case that 'care for the elderly' can mean dozens of incapacitated people drowsing in front of an institutional television.  It's no surprise that such places are viewed with dread.   The northern-England based charity ExtraCare has pioneered an alternative model: a place where people can rent or buy their own home in a village-like complex, and have as little or as much support as they need for the rest of their lives. 

The atmosphere on entering Ryfields, the Warrington branch of ExtraCare, is more like a large university halls of residence than an 'old people's home'.  All sorts of enterprises are taking place in the busy shared area.  A market stall, which visits twice a week, is selling fruit and veg.  A dozen or so people have gathered for an art class.  People chat together in the cafe.  In a back room, one lady is massaging the feet of another.  'Poor circulation'  she says 'but it's been much better recently'.  In another room, registered nurses are taking blood pressure and monitoring weight of residents who want this.  It's hard to find anyone sitting by themselves, let alone staring emptily into a screen.

The scheme offers a balance between dignity and security.  Many people decide to move into the project in their 50s, wanting to find somewhere they can stay until the end of their lives.  The scheme's affordable even for people who only have a basic state pension.  The mixture of the 'young-old' and 'old-old' adds to the vibrancy of the place.  A large number of the residents volunteer as ambassadors, either sitting on reception, or educating each other about healthy eating and sources of help. 

There's nothing to stop people drinking and smoking themselves into the ground if they are determined to do so.  But the culture of the 'village' means that it is easy for people to access help if they want it.  Sometimes this may be after a health shock - a mild stroke may be a cue to get a gym training prescription from registered nurse and wellbeing adviser Julie McGlough.  As well as running around managing a plethora of classes, McGlough is also a listening ear and an essential support.

Shared experience is also a powerful factor.  One resident tells us 'I went to the doctor and he said "It's bad news - prostate cancer".  And there was my wife beside me weeping, and I felt terrible.  Then I went to talk to some of the other blokes here and they said "Oh yes, I had that a few years ago"  and it didn't seem nearly as bad.'

People stray far from the centre - sometimes to exercise classes at the local swimming pool, sometimes to Blackpool or Las Vegas.  The staff are careful to make sure that wheelchair bound residents don't get trapped by their disability. 

The result is that people retain a passion for life.  Melanie Howard, who acts as a manager for several centres, says 'The local doctors are asking what we do to people in here, because everyone seems to live forever'.