#old age home delhi

[vardaanhealthcare]

We've established strict protocols and processes to ensure constant medical supervision without interfering with the fun of taking care for senior citizens.

[manoshan]

𝗠𝗮𝗻𝗼 𝗦𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗢𝗹𝗱 𝗔𝗴𝗲 𝗛𝗼𝗺𝗲 की तरफ से सभी को धनतेरस को हार्दिक बधाई एवं शुभकामनाएं।

भगवान धन्वन्तरी आप सभी के जीवन में आपार खुशियां दें एवं उत्तम स्वास्थ्य प्रदान करें।

[shashirajoldagehomecare]

Old Age Home In Delhi – Shashiraj Foundation

Shashiraj Foundation, we believe every senior deserves a warm and caring environment to enjoy their golden years. Our Old Age Home in Delhi is designed with comfort and dignity in mind, offering personalized care, medical support, and a range of activities to keep our residents engaged and happy. We focus on creating a true sense of home where every resident feels valued. With our dedicated staff ensuring the highest standards of safety and care, we provide a nurturing space where seniors can thrive and feel loved .

Click here for more info - Old Age Home In Delhi

[quality-elder-home]

An old age home, also known as an assisted living facility or retirement home, is a residence for older adults we may need some level of support with their daily activities. Paid Old Age Home in Delhi can vary in size and scope, with some offering independent living options for relatively independent seniors, and others providing more comprehensive support and care services for seniors who need more assistance.

Are you seeking exceptional care and comfort for your beloved elders in Delhi? Look no further! Our paid old age homes in Delhi offer unparalleled services tailored to meet the unique needs of seniors, ensuring their well-being and happiness. At Quality Elder Home, we understand the importance of providing a nurturing environment where seniors can thrive. Our dedicated team of caregivers is committed to delivering personalized attention, round-the-clock support, and a wide range of amenities to make our residents feel at home.

Why Choose Us?

1. Compassionate Care: Our caregivers are trained professionals who provide compassionate care with respect and dignity.

2. Comfortable Accommodation: Our facilities boast well-appointed rooms, spacious common areas, and beautiful outdoor spaces for relaxation and recreation.

3. Nutritious Meals: We offer delicious and nutritious meals prepared by experienced chefs, catering to specific dietary requirements.

4. Medical Support: Our on-site medical staff ensures prompt attention to any health concerns, providing peace of mind to both residents and their families.

5. Engaging Activities: From recreational outings to cultural events, we organize a variety of activities to keep our residents active and engaged.

6. Family Involvement: We encourage family involvement and provide opportunities for meaningful interaction with residents.

Experience the Difference!

Choosing the right paid old age home is crucial for your loved one's happiness and well-being. With Quality Elder Home, you can rest assured knowing that they are in caring and capable hands. Contact us today to schedule a tour and discover why we are the premier choice for paid old age homes in Delhi. Your loved one deserves the best, and we are here to provide it.

Our contact -Mob no: - 828-6-828-828

Mail ID:-qualityelderhomes@gmail.com

Web:https://www.qualityelderhomes.com/our-services/paid-old-age-home-in-noida/

Address:- SD-09, Sec-116 Noida (UP) 201301                                                                            

[epocheldercare]

To raise awareness about Dementia, people must hear and read about it and understand what is being communicated. This is important for everyone, but the taboo surrounding mental health issues and dementia has been a significant barrier in preventing many people from accessing information about dementia.

Given the rising number of dementia cases, it is necessary to raise awareness and normalize the help required to manage dementia. There has been considerable variation in what is considered dementia to be and their understanding of symptoms and possible causes of dementia.

To know more visit us at www.epocheldercare.com or call us at +91 9899 681 595.

[thegoldenestat]

The Golden Estate | Your Serene Retreat Old Age Homes in Delhi NCR

Get ready to enjoy a journey of comfort, care, and contentment at The Golden Estate, a haven for Old Age Homes in Delhi NCR. Our thoughtfully designed residences, coupled with world-class amenities and exceptional healthcare services, foster an environment where you can embrace the golden years of your life with grace and vitality. Contact Us today to get more information!

[readymedi]

Readymedi Care: Bringing ICU at Home Services to Gurgaon's Doorsteps

Introduction: Readymedi Care, a trusted healthcare provider, is revolutionizing critical care services in Gurgaon by offering ICU at Home services. With a commitment to excellence, this article highlights how Readymedi Care is ensuring top-notch medical care right at the doorsteps of patients in need. Discover the convenience and benefits of availing ICU at Home services from Readymedi Care in Gurgaon.

Immediate Access to Critical Care: During medical emergencies, quick access to critical care can be life-saving. With ICU at Home services from Readymedi Care, Gurgaon residents no longer have to endure the challenges of hospital transfers. The expert medical team can promptly respond to emergencies, ensuring patients receive the necessary care without delay.

State-of-the-Art Medical Equipment: Readymedi Care equips its ICU at Home services with advanced medical technology and equipment. From monitoring systems to life-supporting devices, patients can be confident in the high-quality medical care provided by the well-equipped healthcare professionals.

Round-the-Clock Medical Support: Critical care demands continuous medical attention. Readymedi Care offers round-the-clock medical support, with skilled doctors and nurses available at all times. This unwavering presence brings peace of mind to patients and their families, knowing that expert care is just a call away. Read More

Personalized Care and Attention: At Readymedi Care, each patient receives personalized care and attention. The healthcare team takes the time to understand the unique medical needs of patients, tailoring the treatment plans accordingly. This personalized approach ensures the best possible outcomes for patients.

Comfort of Home Environment: Being in the familiar surroundings of home can significantly improve a patient's well-being during critical illnesses. Readymedi Care's ICU at Home services prioritize patient comfort and emotional support, providing a nurturing environment for recovery.

Conclusion: Readymedi Care's ICU at Home services are transforming the way critical care is delivered in Gurgaon. With a focus on prompt access, state-of-the-art medical equipment, and personalized care, Readymedi Care is setting new standards in home-based critical healthcare. Residents of Gurgaon can rely on Readymedi Care for exceptional medical services, knowing that they have a dedicated healthcare partner by their side during challenging times.

[suraj1160]

Old Age Home in East Delhi

Welcome to the Human Peace Foundation Old Age Home in East Delhi, where compassion meets care and smiles find a home. Nestled amidst serene surroundings, our old age home is a sanctuary for senior citizens seeking love, support, and a sense of belonging.

At the Human Peace Foundation, we believe that every elderly person deserves to live their golden years with dignity and respect. Our dedicated team of caregivers and volunteers works tirelessly to create a warm and nurturing environment, ensuring that our residents feel cherished and valued.

The old age home east delhi boasts state-of-the-art facilities, ensuring the comfort and well-being of our esteemed residents. From cosy, well-furnished rooms to nutritious meals tailored to individual preferences, we leave no stone unturned to cater to their specific needs. Regular health check-ups, medical assistance, and access to a team of healthcare professionals ensure that their health remains a top priority.

But it's not just about physical care; it's about fostering a vibrant community. Our residents actively participate in a range of engaging activities, including music sessions, art classes, yoga, and group outings, which not only enrich their lives but also provide an opportunity to forge meaningful connections with others.

At the Human Peace Foundation, family isn't limited to blood relations. The bond between our staff, volunteers, and residents is one of mutual affection and support, creating a familial atmosphere that sets us apart. We encourage intergenerational interactions, where children from local schools visit regularly, bringing joy to both young and old alike.

Our commitment to social responsibility extends beyond the confines of our home. We actively collaborate with the local community, organising workshops on senior care, awareness campaigns, and fundraising events to support the elderly population in East Delhi.

Join us at the Human Peace Foundation Old Age Home in east delhi  where laughter echoes in the hallways, memories are cherished, and the spirit of companionship thrives. Whether you're a senior seeking a haven or a compassionate soul looking to make a difference, we invite you to be a part of our journey towards spreading love and peace in the twilight years of life. Together, let's build a world where every elderly person can find solace and happiness.

Together, let's build a world where every elderly person can find solace and happiness. As we open our doors to new residents, we welcome them with open arms, understanding that the transition to an old age home can be both challenging and emotional. Our empathetic staff and volunteers work closely with new arrivals, ensuring a smooth integration into our close-knit community.

Life at the Human Peace Foundation Old Age Home east delhi  to the spirit of resilience and lifelong learning. We believe that age should never be a barrier to pursuing one's passions and interests. With a variety of workshops and classes, such as computer literacy, gardening, and storytelling, we encourage our residents to explore new hobbies and stay mentally agile.

Moreover, spiritual well-being is at the heart of our philosophy. We offer meditation and prayer sessions, respecting the diverse faiths and beliefs of our residents. Our beautiful meditation garden provides a tranquil space for reflection, encouraging a sense of inner peace and contentment.

Safety and security are paramount at our old age home in east delhi . Equipped with modern surveillance systems and 24/7 monitoring, we ensure that our residents feel protected and at ease. This allows them to focus on making the most of their time with us and enjoying their relationships with newfound friends.

The Human Peace Foundation also acknowledges the vital role families play in the lives of our residents. We actively encourage family visits and organise regular gatherings to celebrate special occasions together. Our goal is to create an atmosphere where families feel like an integral part of our extended family.

At the core of our efforts lies a strong commitment to sustainable practices and environmental responsibility. We have adopted eco-friendly initiatives to reduce our carbon footprint, making our old age home a green oasis for our residents and the surrounding community.

[workdigital]

 old age home for dementia patients in delhi | hope ek asha 

Looking old age home for dementia patients in delhi | Hope Ek A.S.H.A. offers both Daycare and Residential in-home Dementia Care in Delhi NCR. We extend our services to Persons with Dementia more information call us at  9910494958 or email info@hopeekasha.org or visit us https://hopeekasha.org

[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Annniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard : historical AU

Whispers of the Heart | Chapter 02

I am not very good at writing ffs. I even read ffs very selectively. But it was an attempt of me to participate in the 13th-anniversary arshi fiesta. I might be wrong about certain aspects of that age and era, but it's a fantasy, so why not?

I don't own Arnav and Khushi and the story is purely fictional and has no relation to any living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter 2

After 10 years

Arnav was threading the busy traffic of the Bazar with his ambassador mark 1 to reach the St.Stephen all-women college of Delhi to pick up certain someone who he hadn't talked to, for almost 2 years. Though it was the cheapest car of that generation, it was his most prized possession at that moment, brought by the profit he got from his first export shipments of the textile factory he bought 1 year ago. But his mind was on that girl who lived in his mind rent-free till that fateful day 2 years ago and hadn't left ever since. Even at that moment, he could still feel her, if he closed his eyes.

Shaking himself off to get rid of that feeling, he concentrated on the road. Arnav's focus cleared to zoom in on that girl of question, no no, a young woman, in a simple white saree with a blue border, a mandatory college ware. The way she drapped the saree over her was very modest, but modesty seemed to allude Arnav today. His heart gave a thud realizing he could vividly feel how that petite body felt pressed to his. 'control yourself, Arnav. you've done so much damage already', Arnav chastised himself, willing his heart to a normal rhythm. Her jet-black hair was pleated into a single braid and a simple black bindi in the middle of her eyebrows that brought out her hazel-coloured doe eyes even more highlighted by a thin line of kajal. That was what Arnav was so scared of. Her little bindi had the power over him that the whole Oxford female fraternity didn't. He might have not talked to her but he saw her secretly every time he came to Dehli and watched her spread her wings like a butterfly to be the beautiful woman she ended up being. Roma Chachi had given her an apt name 'titliya'. All those times watching her from a distance Arnav tried his best to control his heart and mind, but ended up failing every single time. There was a reason why he avoided her for 2 years.

Khushi was standing at the gate of the college with her classmate, Sarita Chauhan, waiting for Akash Vai to pick her up. Khushi was irritated, she insisted on taking the rickshaw back home but due to the overprotective nature of Bhai and Babuji, she couldn't do that. But she didn't expect to see Him that day and somehow she knew he had come to pick her up. The last two years did a kind of magic to him or was it London or the girls of London to be exact, she didn't know. The Arnav sitting in front of her in that car donning the black glasses and clad in a rolled-up white shirt and black suspenders was a far cry from the man she last saw. But he was still Arnav among all of these, Her Arnav. That's why it didn't surprise her when her heart went overboard 'dhak-dhak,dhak-dhak,dhak-dhak'. Her friend beside her produced a small sound of appreciation,

"oh Khushi, you've never introduced me to your brothers. now I understand why." giving her a little nudge with her shoulder.

Khushi scoffed at her comment " he is not my brother. "

It's been 10 years since she lost her parents. And in the middle of all of these when Mahindar Chachu became her Babuji and Manoroma Chachi became Amma, she couldn't exactly pinpoint. And as a result, she got two brothers who loved her fiercely as their own. Abba had arranged a home tutor for her when she was 10 years old, because she couldn't bear the stress of public schooling. As soon as she started to form complete sentences her tutor advised her to write letters to her brothers, studying in Darjeeling. She wrote letters to Akash bhai and Aman bhai and then she wrote another letter to Arnav addressing him as 'Dear Arnav'. Her tutor chastised her for not adding a 'bhai' or a 'ji' at the end of his name. But Arnav was never her 'bhai', was he? He never felt like a 'bhai'. He was so much more. But above all, he was Her 'Arnav'.Just 'Arnav.' she used to call her 'Arnav' since she was 8. Nobody corrected her till she was 16. Then she started to call him 'Arnavji'. Now she didn't know what to call him anymore.

Arnav parked the car in front of her. when she made no move to sit inside, he took off the glasses unleashing his dark brown eyes on her. he opened the car door from inside and addressed her -

" what are you waiting for Khushi Kumari Gupta? Pandit bulake mahurat nikal na parega kya?" giving her the crooked half-smile that she adored. His familiar husky voice sent a wave of wistfulness through her. A thousand memories spun in her head, tangling together. God, she missed him so much. "Akash bhai and Aman are busy in the printing press. Cachu asked me to drop you home."

Khushi stared at him for another moment then with a huff she entered the car, which was a bad decision she understood not long after. Being in a closed space with him was torture. His enchanting woody scent engulfed her and transported her to a particular day that was in the centre of conflict between them. Both of them stared at anything but at each other, but soon Khushi couldn't resist the temptation to steal a look at him, which was a far worse decision than the previous one. Her eyes found his hands on the steering wheel, clutching it and as soon as a flashback of those hands flooded her mind - those hands clutching her smaller ones when they used to take a walk, those hands closing the hook of a payal around her ankles, those hands teaching her smaller ones to hold the chalk to write on the black slate, those hands helping her to plant rose plants on the garden. Her mind shifted to her smaller hands giving prasad to his larger ones, his hands cracking open the peanut shell for her whenever they went to the mela, his hands pulling her braids.'Have those hands become larger till the last time she saw them?' Khushi mused silently. Then a switch flipped in her mind, more flashbacks, she started to feel his hands on her cheek, on her waist, on the back of her head. Khushi closed her eyes tightly and clutched the books in her hands and to drive away those visions from her mind, blurted out what came to her mind at that moment " Anjali di said, you could not come to Delhi for another 3 months"

Arnav, looking at Khushi from the corner of his eyes, said "I didn't plan to. But My best friend is marrying my little sister. I wouldn't miss that wedding for the world and Roma Chachi said no more auspicious 'mohurat' after this month until the end of this year. And it's not like I have not been travelling to and fro between Delhi and London in the last couple of years."

Khushi nodding and trying to swallow down the hurt, said solemnly "I know."

Arnav had been studying law at Oxford University for the last couple of years. He had passed his bar exam and had been doing an apprenticeship under a Barrister in London for the last year. She knew all of this from Aman bhai. On the other hand, Arnav sold the land that his grandfather gave him and bought a run-down textile factory in old Delhi. She knew he had been very busy and she also knew he had been to Dehli multiple times in the last 2 years. He didn't stay in Rajput haveli nowadays when he came to Delhi. He had rented a two-storied bungalow on the outskirts of the town. But what hurt her more was he went to Rajput haveli to meet Amma and Babuji every time he came to Delhi, only when she was in school. So, it was not so difficult to figure out, who he was avoiding. Why, why she have to ruin the most important friendship she had in her life??? If only she wouldn't have done what she did 2 years ago.

It didn't escape Arnav's eyes the pain that flashed through her face. He still could read her like an open book, could decode the emotions that transpired through her pretty eyes. He regretted hurting her so much, but it was for the greater good. Sometimes he thought he preferred to remember her as still eight years old because she'd adored him then. She would gladly follow him anywhere. In fact, whenever she saw him leave, heading toward the garden where he liked to walk and think, she would come running after him. Even though she frequently fell, her little legs no match for his long, strong ones, she never cried and never complained. She was strong even back then.

Little Khushi used to fill their conversation with a million inquisitive questions though, looking at him with trusting big eyes. Her questions made him laugh and stumbled over answers.

When she was eight, he was her Hero.

As soon as the car reached Rajput Haveli, she all but sprinted away from him. Arnav sighed grabbing the package from the backseat he also entered the house. As soon as he reached the living room, he was met with Madhumati ji scolding Khushi for running around carelessly, even at the age of eighteen and her praying to God to give her 'sanka devi' same 'satbuddhi'. Then there was Roma Chachi, who came rushing towards him to give him a hug. Roma Chachi never failed to make him feel loved. Arnav admired this woman for her enormous capacity to love those who weren't hers.

"London suits you, Arnav Bitwa, look at you, how handsome you've turned out to be!!!! "

Arnav's tall figure folded itself to return her hug, teasing her he proceeded "And you didn't change at all Roma chachi. Still as gorgeous as ever. I missed you so much."

Manoroma smiled at him fondly. A child she once wished was hers so that she could have protected him from the heartbreak he endured at such a tender age " I missed you too, Bitwa. Don't be a stranger now like you have been for past years, ab toh hum ristedaar bhi banne wale hain."

Arnav smilled at her " I'll try."

Manoroma continued, "I hope you are staying with us this time, aren't you?" seeing Arnav nodding his head, she continued "Good, now I am going to the temple, we'll talk after I come back. chaliye, madhumati ji."

Arnav watched them leave and then silently proceeded toward the first floor crossing the stairs. At the very least, he could try to save whatever was left of the friendship he once shared with Khushi.

Khushi sat cross-legged on her bed, looking at the payal that broke as soon as she entered her room hurriedly a few minutes ago. It had been her room since her parents had died. It had seen so many of her tears and held so many of her secrets. Bua ji nowadays, began to get on her nerves, reminding everyone of her spinster status, but Khushi was adamant not to get married before she enrolled for college, now that she finally did it, she didn't have any excuses left.

Looking at the payal, Khushi thought of how it's been almost 10 years since she was wearing that particular payal. One morning 10 years ago, in the garden, looking at her rag doll, she confessed to Arnav that she used to have a similar payal like her doll once, that the bad guys had stolen from her too. And she missed wearing the payals. It was one of the first things she had admitted to Arnav during their long walks.

He'd asked her why she didn't just ask Mahindar Chachu and Chachi for payals and Khushi had tearfully confessed her fear that if she wanted too much, her new guardians would give her away. And the sound of payals must disturbed them as well.

That very weekend, he'd bought her this payal and its pair. She'd loved it. It was the first time since her parents died that she'd bounced in places with joy like she was really eight and not eighty. She giggled with her delighted-little-girl pleasure.

Khushi stared at the payal with a sad smile on her face. The clasp had been given away. Just like their relationship now. She still remembered how the payals were too big for her small ankles, he had to make a loop at the end to adjust them to her size.

Arnav had adored her once.

But she'd messed that up good and proper a long time ago. But did she really mess it up beyond repair?

A knock on the door drew her thoughts out of the past. To her surprise, it was Arnav standing in the doorway, his expression as passive as ever. "Can I come in?"

She nodded, automatically scooting backwards to lean back against her headboard. He came to sit in front of her, and Khushi smirked, remembering playing Ludo with him at that same position, at that same spot when she was 10, 11, 12.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked, curious. A smile played at his lips that made her heart feel like a thunder about to strike.

"I was just remembering beating you in ludo," she said quietly. In her room, it was harder to be aloof as she tried to be with him. How long had she been trying to show him she was grown up, grown past the foolish girl she'd been when they...

His smile broadened but only slightly. Still, it was enough to make her blood feel warmer. "So you found a game you can actually beat me at, Phati sari. Don't get arrogant." He pointed a finger in her face.

Laughing lightly, she remembered the origin of her nickname at the kanya puja day, when she was 10, Amma had made her wear a red saree made for little girls. it was so beautiful. She ran to the garden to show it to Arnav where he was helping Babuji to sow the vegetable seeds and ended up tearing the pretty saree in that process. She cried the whole day so much that Babuji ended up buying two more similar sarees just like that. But she couldn't get away from the torment of Arnav's teasing. She gained that nickname a day later. she stared down at her lap, tracing the broken payal with the pad of her finger. He sounded like his old self just then addressing her with the name he gave her, the one who wasn't so uncomfortable and cold around her. 'O Devi maiya, what do she need to sacrifice to have that again.' she sighed and asked "So what did you want to talk about?"

"This is awkward," he said after a moment of silence. "It seems almost pompous for me to say I'm proud of you."

"Why do you think it's pompous?" she asked, curiously. "I mean, everyone else has said it... unless you don't mean it."

"Of course I mean it," he said, his tone sincere. "A graduate degree in English literature" He looked down, then back at her again"You always wanted to be a writer. I am sorry I wasn't there when you enrolled on college, I should have been there." he said with a decisive, displeased tone. "I know I haven't been as supportive as I could have been these last few years."

Khushi shook her head. Arnav had always been something of an enigma to her. Well, not always. There was a time when their relationship had been simple. At some point, something had changed. What that was, Khushi was still at a loss as to explain. She knew when the switchover had happened, though.

"Arnav," she said with a sigh. "If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have even tried to get into a college. You have always encouraged me to write and kept me interested in the world of literature with the books you used to send me."He even sent her books when he was avoiding her those last few years.

Looking up at him, she smiled. "you were the only one who never doubted my capabilities. You just seemed so certain I could do it - even if it would be hard."

"Most things worth doing are difficult," he said quietly. "It never occurred to me to doubt you. If that was what you wanted, I knew you were capable."

And because he knew, she believed, she thought but didn't say. "It was difficult. Still, I did it, and I think I made the right choice. You had everything to do with that."

Their silence then was not so awkward, but more comfortable. Then Arnav reminded the package in his hand and extended it to her. As soon as she saw the package, her face brightened with a brilliant smile and she all but tore the packaging of the book. 'A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens ' It's her favourite book, but it was special.

"you brought me the first edition" She looked in awe both at the book and at the man. When the awe subsided awkwardness seeped in. Arnav was about to leave.

"Arnav," she began hurriedly, blowing out a breath in a huff, she was ready to right wrongs in her life, and start fresh. "I know you've been... wary about seeing me since... since then. And I don't blame you. I know things have been strange for a long time. But I was a stupid girl then. A lot has changed - I've changed. I'm not going to... do that again. So if that's what you're worried about-"

"Khushi," he said quickly, reaching across the space that separated them, putting his index finger over her lips.

For the space of a few breaths, Khushi's heartbeat began to stutter. Time stood still, their breaths caught. She didn't know how long it had been since she was watching his hooded eyes, looking at his dilated pupil.

And then a moment later, a curtain seemed to fall over his expressive eyes, hiding all the secrets she so desperately wanted to reveal, his eyes holding hers. He let his hand drop slowly before he broke eye contact, staring out the window. For long moments, he was silent. "It's not you. It's never been you."

She waited, but he didn't seem inclined to explain further. "Is it so unthinkable ?" she asked finally. She cringed because she'd feared the answer to this question for years. He was her best friend, her confidant - the most important person in her life since almost before she could remember. That had never changed. And she didn't want to lose him. She would take him in whatever capabilities he would like to share with her.

"Is what so unthinkable?" he asked, dreading the answer himself.

"Can't we try to be friends again?" Her voice was quiet, and she struggled to make it not waiver. It felt strangely like her world would crumble if he put the final nail in the coffin of their relationship, as melodramatic as that sounded.

To her surprise, his eyes were wide, almost horrified. He shook his head, chuckling nervously. He thought she would ask about something else. "I never imagined you would interpret my attitude that way." He rubbed a hand over his chin, tracing the line of stubble - it had been some days since he'd shaved. She'd noticed that almost instantly when he walked in the door. She still remembered the way that little bit of stubble felt, brushing against her cheek.

"To answer your question, of course, we can be friends. I've never not been your friend," he said finally.

This cheered her considerably, and Khushi sat up straight, smiling. "Good."

@arshifiesta @featheredclover @phuljari @msbhagirathi

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[vardaanhealthcare]

Get world class facilities at Vardaan Senior citizen care in India

Various facilities like short term and long term living assistance, post stroke rehabilitation, physiotherapy and dementia care are present for medically challenged senior citizens. Get facilitated by Vardaan Senior citizen care in India.

[handeaux]

Ringing Down The Final Curtain: A Most Curious Assortment Of Cincinnati Deaths

Over the years, quite a few Cincinnatians have shuffled off this mortal coil under very curious circumstances. Here are eleven examples from the macabre annals of our city’s history.

Death By Clown #1 It was Halloween night in 1921. Joseph Clark, a factory worker, was walking home through Lower Price Hill near the intersection of Eighth and State. He may not have noticed, across the street, that a fracas involving three men wearing clown costumes battling a half-dozen rowdies had escalated beyond mere fisticuffs. One of the clowns, William Shewmaker, pulled a gun and fired several rounds either very poorly aimed or as warning shots. One shot hit Clark squarely in the chest and he died at the scene. One of the assailants, Robert Cahill, died later from a gunshot wound. A jury failed to convict Shewmaker, the killer clown.

Death By Tin Horn #1 On a delightful spring evening in 1877, fourteen-year-old James McKenna and his friends chased each other along Ellen Street, then located along the base of Mount Adams. Their game appeared to involve grabbing and holding a child’s tin horn. The street was steeply inclined and poorly maintained. As he ran down the hill, tin horn in hand, James tripped on a tree root bulging out of the pavement and fell lengthwise on the slope. The tin horn punctured his jugular vein and blood spouted profusely from the wound. James attempted to struggle home, just a block away, but fainted halfway there. His friends carried his lifeless body to his distraught mother.

The Chalk Will Julia Butterfass, an invalid aged 67 in 1895, was despondent and regularly announced that she planned to end her life. So often had she declared her morbid intent, and so often failed to carry out her threat, that her family stopped paying attention. Her chronic condition was exacerbated by the declining health of her husband, Jacob, a varnisher who could not hold a steady job because of his own health issues. One morning, Julia arose to prepare breakfast and then made a fateful decision. She returned to her room and scrawled her last will and testament in chalk on the floor of her closet. When the rest of the family woke up and noted her absence, they searched the house and found her note, which read: “Good-bye friends. I am tired of life and am going to commit suicide. I leave all my clothes to my daughter.” Searching outside, the family discovered that Julia had drowned herself in the backyard cistern.

Incinerated By Mouthwash In November 1894, Leah Clifford was 20 years old and worked as a prostitute in Georgia Hudson’s brothel at 145 George Street in the West End. As she dressed to attend the theater one evening, Leah opened a bottle of mouthwash, prescribed by Dr. Charles Muscroft and prepared by druggist David Allen. Whether improperly prescribed by Dr. Muscroft or improperly compounded by Mr. Allen, the bottle contained a dentifrice known as pyrozone dissolved in highly flammable ether. When Leah lit a match, the bottle exploded, spraying her with incendiary liquid. She ran screaming from the house, setting fires wherever she stumbled. Transported to the hospital, she died hours later and is buried in Spring Grove Cemetery.

Sledding Into Eternity Frank Mauntel was 19 in 1919. He was a linotype operator and lived on Milton Street, just off Sycamore Hill. In December of that year, the snows landed heavy and froze overnight. Sycamore Hill was the hottest “coasting” hill in the city and young people assembled there in packs to try their skill navigating the precipitous drop down to Liberty Street. Mauntel took his turn and hurtled downhill, just as an automobile driven by Albert Schraeder of Delhi chugged through the intersection. Mauntel didn’t stand a chance. He was the 71st death by automobile in Cincinnati in 1919 and the second to die by sledding or “coasting” in the streets.

Frozen In A Quarry Henry Mastrup and John Mastrup were brothers who lived in South Fairmount at the base of Bald Knob. In 1905, they eked out a spare existence digging limestone out of Anthony Spitzmueller’s quarry at the top of Amor Street. Henry had been feeling poorly, but rallied one February afternoon and said he would take a walk, wrapping himself in three layers of clothes. When Henry did not return in time for dinner, John went looking for his brother. In the winter darkness, John found Henry frozen to death, sitting on a large stone in the quarry. John lit a match to examine the body, determined that he was in fact extinct, then walked home to eat dinner, leaving his brother’s corpse in the quarry all night. In the morning, John flagged down a cop, who called a patrol to remove the body. The coroner, incredulous, asked John why he had left his brother’s frozen body outside all night. John said he knew the quarry could not be reached by a wagon in darkness and he knew no harm would befall his brother overnight.

A Commercial Toxin On her 1908 death certificate, Daisy Sherman was described as a “harlot.” Under the name of Madge Simpson, she entertained customers at a brothel operated by Nan Newman at 309 Longworth Street. It was, sadly, all too common for sex workers of that era to end their lives by suicide. The most frequent method chosen by women was to ingest some vile potion, usually morphine or laudanum or carbolic acid. What distinguished Daisy Sherman’s exit from this vale of tears was her swallowing a commercial product that had only recently been introduced to Cincinnati – Lysol disinfectant.

Poem To A Pipe Bookkeeper Charles Drinker, aged 54, shot himself in the head one chilly morning in December 1905. He was estranged from his family and out of work, yet he went to his reward after leaving behind two light-hearted compositions. One was a jocular note to the coroner, hoping that his earthly remains might find some use in an anatomy laboratory. The other was a farewell poem to his tobacco pipe, the stalwart briar that had accompanied him for some years. Drinker’s final encomium read:

From thee, old friend, I have had my last puff; To leave thee thus, I know, ‘tis rough For in trial, trouble and tribulation You have been my only consolation. Now, alas! of use no more You can’t accompany me to the other shore. For on that shore there is no smoke – I tell you, old friend, this is no joke. You, like myself, have had your day – You remain briarwood – I return to clay.

Drinker was not shipped to one of the medical schools. He was buried in the Potter’s Field.

Death By Tin Horn #2 John Schaeffer was a shoemaker who lived in Covington. In 1897, he was unemployed and so purchased a supply of gewgaws and set up a little streetside stand on Fifth Street in downtown Cincinnati. One evening, a customer asked for one of the tin horns Schaeffer had for sale. The horn was at the bottom of a display hanging from a long pole. Schaeffer lifted up the pole to extract the desired tin horn and made contact with an arc lamp hanging over his little toy stand. The electrical current paralyzed Schaeffer immediately and the strength of the current repelled anyone attempting to come to his rescue. When someone finally switched off the streetlight, Schaeffer’s corpse slid to the pavement.

Death By Clown #2 On the evening of January 10, 1854, there was a "small Spanish theatrical representation” on Stockton Street in San Francisco. A 13-year-old boy named William Snyder, who had been born in Cincinnati, was peddling candy and peanuts. For whatever reason, Manuel Reys who was described as being a "mentally defected" circus clown grabbed William by the heels and swung him around several times. By the time Reys released the boy, blood was flowing from William's mouth. William was rushed to a hospital where he died. Manuel Reys was arrested for murder and his case was sent to the grand jury, but it doesn't appear he was ever legally charged. The death was eventually found to be accidental. William was buried in the Yerba Buena cemetery.

Was It Poison? The coroner’s official verdict claimed that Elbert Wise died from blood poisoning as the result of a ruptured spleen, but there were many unanswered questions. Wise’s wife, Katherine, found her husband slumped on the front stoop very early on the morning of 14 April 1895. He claimed he had been poisoned; that he had drunk some beer and found a greenish substance at the bottom of his glass. He lingered in a delirious state for three weeks before he died. It turned out that he had been “keeping company” with the unmarried 26-year-old Frieda Eisele for a couple of years. Freda discovered that Elbert was married and attempted to break off the relationship. Elbert persisted in seeing Freda over her mother’s objections and it was with Freda and her widowed mother that Elbert drank that fatal glass of beer. The coroner’s finding of natural causes ended any investigation. It was very curious, therefore, twenty years later, when Freda’s aged mother killed herself by swallowing an arsenic-rich dye known as Paris Green. One wonders whether she had ever used that substance before.

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By recognizing the early signs, such as tremors, slowed movements, muscle stiffness, balance issues, and changes in speech and writing, caregivers and family can recognize Parkinson's disease and work closely with healthcare professionals to provide appropriate care and support.