I road shotgun as a Meals on Wheels "runner" yesterday afternoon through the impoverished streets of Trenton, New Jersey.
My company sets up lots of philanthropic programs during the holiday season. I had never before delivered meals to the elderly or disabled, so I signed up. Yesterday’s hot meal was ravioli. I can still smell it. The day was sad and sobering and not one that I’ll forget anytime soon.
Like a tour guide, my driver added color commentary as we pulled up to each home.
"I call this one the Cat Lady," he said.
Aptly named. Three sets of tiny kitten eyes peeked out of the door when the Cat Lady opened it.
"This next one is Polish I think. She only knows the word "open." You put the food down on the table and she’ll be watching The Price is Right. Her brother lives with her. I almost hit him on his bike once."
He laughed. He loved his job.
I walked up steps covered in green Astroturf and knocked just once before the door opened. Knowing that Minnie was 94 and in a wheelchair, I was surprised at how quickly she got to the door. I guess the door opens swiftly when it’s your only meal of the day.
"How are you doing today?" I asked.
"It’s hard," she said weakly, taking the bag of food from my hand.
"when you can’t walk."
Before we went out on our route, the director of the program gave a brief talk about the "clients," mentioning that several of them have diabetes.
Looking at the many containers of ravioli set for delivery, I just had to ask.
"Do they know about the carbs in the food they’re eating?"
The director said that all of the meals are low in sodium and low in calories.
"And the carbs?"
She admitted she wasn’t so much sure about that.
Who’s watching how much they’re eating? I wondered. Who's giving the right amount of insulin? Even if there was a nurse at the home, how could she possibly know how many carbs were in a heavy tin of pasta with sauce? They’re not going to find nutritional information on these containers. That would be a luxury. They're lucky just to have food to eat.
Troubling.
It was an interesting and sad afternoon. On the bright side, I was glad I didn’t have to deliver food to the one guy the volunteers feared the most.
The guy who comes to the door completely naked.
