Having lived through the great depression of the 1930s, Nana and Gramps lived very frugally on my grandfather's salary as a construction worker. As a result of careful planning, after Gramps passed away my grandmother was able to live comfortably on the money they had stashed away under the mattress (literally!).

When Nana first went into a nursing home, she went as a "private pay" patient. Allen and I were very impressed with the facility and the first few times we went to visit her.

Within a few months, Nana had spent all of her savings and we now officially a Medicaid (welfare) patient. No longer on the first floor, Nana was "housed" on the second floor—away from the beautiful lobby with fresh flowers, the library with original works of art, and the community room. Our first impressions of a caring facility were suddenly replaced by genuine concern for her care as we noticed a "distinct odor" permeating the hallway. Not long after that, Nana became bedridden and within a few weeks of going on Medicaid, passed away.

Would Nana have deteriorated so fast if she had remained a private pay patient? We'll never know the answer to that question.

—Eileen Hamm