Instead of haranguing seniors to stave off dementia by choosing healthy food, make it easier for us to shop for them.
We’re in the alleyway of 1940’s Chicago. Uncle Jack is driving a horse-drawn wagon filled with fruits and vegetables. Housewives are on the wooden porches at the rear of their apartments. Jack is shouting the names of produce he is hauling this day. The women wave and signal their selections.
Wouldn’t it be nice to have a similar option today.
At age 84, I ofttimes enter a room to wonder, “now why did I want to go here.” And occasionally, find the name of a friend dissolving mid conversation. Then, I wonder, “is this dementia?” So, tips for staving off the dread are always heeded.
This caught my eye: In a New York Times article, Dr. Uma Naidoo, the director of nutritional and metabolic psychiatry at Massachusetts General Hospital, is quoted as saying, “One big change you can make to your diet, is to ‘up your plant game.’ Leafy greens are packed with nutrients and fiber, and some solid evidence has linked them with slower age-related cognitive decline.”
Alas, Dr. Naidoo, and other dieticians, physicians, and experts who lecture us about fresh produce, please consider how difficult it is for many seniors to purchase them.
Let’s take me as example. I no longer drive. If I want to walk to any of the three supermarkets within a mile of my apartment, I must pay for a shared ride to haul the groceries back. Returning home with three bags full of veggies and other healthy food requires assistance.
Why can’t the health departments of local governments mimic Uncle Jack’s vocation, but switch from horse and buggy to a veggie van? Old folks like me, people with disabilities, and others who can’t afford the extra tab for shared rides, can be stand-ins for housewives on porches.
I envision the vans to travel throughout the city and to all neighborhoods, especially those that lack a supermarket. These veggie vans would have a regular schedule and a specific corner so that customers can rely on a particular day of the week and an accessible locale to purchase the highly touted produce.
These vans could also be small business opportunities. Funds could be offered to worthy individuals who complete a course on healthy eating and another on entrepreneurship.
Another way to make veggies more accessible is to use another chapter of my 1940s Chicago as example. My family operated a mom ‘n pop grocery store on the ground floor of our apartment building.
I’m heartened to see some new construction emulating that concept, with a Whole Foods on the ground floor in one setting, and a Jewel on an interior level in another. Why don’t local building departments mandate that in order to receive permission to construct a new high rise, a portion of the property must be devoted to a food store.
Of course, farmer’s markets are a fine option for purchasing produce. But, in my city of Chicago and others with similar climates, these are not year-round alternatives. Also, some farmer’s markets can be too expensive for those with tight incomes. And others are criticized for not offering ethnic or culturally favored foods.
Here’s another idea: Why not bring farmer’s markets with diverse vendors and sensible prices to fill the empty spaces now depressing many city downtowns. For seniors living too far from my imagined markets, our health department can sponsor an additional fleet. This one will stop in various neighborhoods to pick up shoppers and provide free rides to and from downtown.
Many senior housing facilities have this sort of transportation for their residents. But for others who live on their own, and for people with disabilities, these rides would be appreciated.
Of course, ordering veggies online from the many supermarkets that offer them is an option. I do that often, but occasionally I am disappointed in the produce pulled from the delivered grocery bags. My last purchase disappointed with wrinkled tomatoes and iceberg lettuce scared by age.
Alas, too many folks my age are timid with tech. Others enjoy switching on the five senses: seeing, touching, smelling, tasting, and listening to the veggie vendor’s pitch. Scrolling through a supermarket’s website can be difficult and disheartening for these customers.
I also want these vans to be free to ride. The financial and human cost of treating dementia is staggering. The budget for the van fleet I propose would be miniscule in comparison. (According to the Alzheimer's Association Facts and Figures report, nearly $272 billion worth of care is provided by unpaid caregivers each year. $27 an hour is the average cost of a home health care aide. And, $10,000 is the average cost for in-home dementia safety modifications.)
So next time an expert with the well-being of seniors is top of mind and insists on pushing fruits and vegetables on us, let’s insist he/she/them consider how to ease the difficulty in getting them.
Think of Uncle Jack, our mom ‘n pop store on the ground floor, and other very old ideas to keep me and my cohorts healthy.