Brighton Gardens of Edison

My mom has been with Brighton Gardens, Edison for over 4 years. We (our entire family) are very happy with her care. I visit weekly, at events, and whenever I choose. My visits are welcomed by a friendly receptionist, busy, but smiling staff and residents who have always returned my greetings, and a concerned and aware medical staff. Her room is clean, her meals are taken in a regular dining room looking like a fine restaurant. Her care is in our hands, and the Brighton Gardens staff is well suited and welcomed by us. We feel blessed that she is being cared for.

As the son of a parent who stayed here and visited every single day, I noticed a lot and had a lot to say about what I saw there. As this is all new to me, I didn’t know what to expect, but I did expect more empathy and understanding than I got. Right from the start, I was unaware I needed to put my mother’s name on her clothing, and was informed after the fact that this is basic, by the staff. Basic for those who do this for a living, not me. Anyway, a few days in, I noticed another resident wearing my mother’s clothes for a few days, and brought it to their attention. So, if no name is on the clothes, they are just given out to whoever? Really? My dealing with the social worker there was usually unpleasant as well most of the time. (I don’t appreciate being spoken to like a child-I’m an adult, she should have known this as at one point she responded inappropriately to one of my comments to her «You’re a grown man») My mother has a tendency to fall out of bed, I told them this, she fell out at least twice, and got called in the evening advising me, I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that but they said they are required to call me. They make NO effort to address this, I made a few suggestions, and was told no constantly (no rail on bed, no chairs by bed, no to sitting in a chair until she gets sleepy, no to this, no to that) These people are in this business, my mother can’t be the only resident like this, but apparently based on one conversation with a staff member there, I was told yes, she is. Odd for sure. Upon moving her to the assisted living side, I mentioned this, was told a rubber mat (later on advised for purchase) could be placed along side the bed, (but it wasn’t at first), and the bed could be lowered. The staff seems to stick to a standard script with a smile. I got «yessed» a lot, but them being more proactive would have been nice. They tell me they are not allowed to restrain residents, but allowing them to fall out of bed is fine, it seems. Additionally my mother developed a huge bruise on her upper thigh, the nurse who I had a few issues with as well, advised me with very little concern that Mom was bleeding internally due to this. One time, after I made my thoughts known about something connected to Mom’s care that I wasn’t happy with-​I can’t even remember what specifically it was, as there were SO many, this same nurse came up to me, to explain herself in a somewhat defensive manner. My guess is mother got this bruise falling out of bed, it didn’t just happen by itself, and I refuse to believe my mother who is frail and fragile would NOT bruise after a fall out of bed. My take on this whole experience is that the place exists to make money first, and providing care is secondary. The staff all seem to speak from a rehearsed script (probably due to hearing it all over and over) The place looks great, and the dog and cat there are a nice plus too. Some of the staff went out of their way to be pleasant, but I expected more as I was there every day. I didn’t expect to make friends there, but didn’t expect to be ignored either. It doesn’t cost anything to smile and say hello, and at what they charge, that should be included by the staff. I now think after my dealings with them, a smile and a hello from the staff could be requested, with an added extra over-​charge to the bill From my daily observations, it appeared most residents got very few visitors, so my being there daily had to stand out. I was told of many visitors to the residents there, one of many lies and stories I was told on a regular basis.