Making room for disabled adults

Foster families open their homes

By Steven Rosenberg, Globe Staff, 6/29/2003

In the sun-drenched living room of an old farmhouse in Amesbury, Jennifer Croswell was busy telling ''knock-knock'' jokes, and describing the pleasures of eating Chef Boyardee ravioli for dinner, when Rosey, a black long-haired rottweiler, sauntered up to her and licked her face.

As her laughter filled the room, there was joy on the face of Marilyn Rock. Rock is one of 10 host families who have opened their homes to disabled and elderly adults who can no longer live safely alone. Croswell, who is 25 and has cerebral palsy, arrived at Rock's home a month ago. She shares a room with Rita Bastien, a 56-year-old woman with schizophrenia and diabetes.

Chances are the three women, who eat all their meals together, and who hold hands while they walk down the back streets of Amesbury, would have never met if Dr. Cynthia Bjorlie hadn't decided that she wanted to do something different with her life.

Bjorlie is still on the staff of Beverly Hospital, but in 2001, she decided to open Adult Foster Care of the North Shore. The program -- which pays host families $12,045 a year per individual -- was modeled after a pilot program that began at Massachusetts General Hospital in 1975. In 1980, Medicaid agreed to fund the program, and today, 22 social ser

vice agencies have placed 800 people throughout the state. On the North Shore, 10 adults are living with host families. ''The concept is just amazing, it's so obvious,'' said Bjorlie, who took out a personal loan of $35,000 to get the program off the ground. ''What I'd love to do is get 20 homes in each of the towns in Essex County, and I'd like to fill them up with clients. It's great for the taxpayers.'' Besides the human interaction and meaningful relationships that develop for the clients, there's also a significant savings to taxpayers, said Bjorlie. She said nursing homes and group homes, where many of the clients ordinarily would be housed, bill Medicaid $2,400 to $3,400 per individual per month.

The North Shore program began 22 months ago when Bjorlie hired two part-time employees and secured a small office at Action, Inc. in Gloucester. One of her first hires was Jane Montenero, who worked with Bjorlie over the years at Addison Gilbert Hospital.

Together, the two women interview potential clients with a wide range of disabilities. Referrals come from the state's Department of Mental Retardation, nursing homes, hospitals, and doctors. After clients and host families are interviewed, clients meet the families at their homes. An overnight stay is arranged, and if both sides agree, then the client will move in, and receive a room, meals, and help with bathing and dressing if they need it.

Most clients are covered by Medicaid, but individuals who are not eligible for aid but who can pay $55 to $60 a day also can be placed, said Bjorlie.

Host families are subject to interviews, home inspections, criminal background checks, and training that's specific to the client's disability. To date, Bjorlie has placed adults in homes in Amesbury, Lynn, Groveland, Ipswich, Salisbury, and Methuen.

Bjorlie and Montenero do not provide medical support, but do make monthly house calls to check on the clients and families. The ideal situation, say the two women, is when the host families embrace the adults and integrate them into their family life.

''You can't look at it as a job. They're people and I love them. They become part of your family,'' said Rock, who paused and corrected herself. ''They become your family.''

The retired bookkeeper sleeps with ''one ear open,'' just in case Croswell or Bastien call for her in the night. The three women are up by 5 a.m., talking and having breakfast, and after Rock helps them get showered and dressed, Croswell and Bastien head off to state-sponsored programs. When they return, they watch TV, play with Rosey the dog, and talk about their day.

''I love my room,'' said Croswell, motioning toward her bedroom that's just opposite the main entrance. In a matter of moments she is chatting again, describing Robin Williams as her preferred comic, and identifying the Cookie Monster as her favorite muppet. Why the Cookie Monster? ''I like cookies,'' she explained, ''chocolate chip on vanilla wafers.''

Down the highway in Groveland, Jill Osborn sat at the end of Cheryl Wilson's kitchen table and smiled. ''Hi Mia,'' she said, cooing to Wilson's granddaughter.

Osborn, who is 45 and grew up in Essex, has lived with short-term memory loss since a 1988 car accident put her in a coma, clinging to life. Until the accident, her life had seemed on course. Married with three children, she had put her associate's degree from North Shore Community College to use as a bookkeeper for a Manchester tennis club. But after her accident, there was a divorce, and a long rehabilitation process that separated her from her family. She bounced from nursing homes to ''mentor homes,'' and most recently lived in Canton.

''The kids come here, and they call me a lot,'' said Osborn, who spends nearly all of her waking hours by Wilson's side. She proudly shows visitors her room, and the pictures of children that crowd her dresser are a reminder of a different life. On the door is a list Wilson has prepared to make life easier for Osborn. The list reads: ''shower every morning, brush teeth, make bed and pick up stuff from floor.''

''I get a lot of satisfaction out of her being here,'' said Wilson, who is married and has five children in addition to her grandchild. ''Jill comes with us everywhere -- dance recitals, shopping, movies, the kids' games, and dinner.''

Bjorlie looked on as the two women spoke. ''I was born to do this,'' said the internist. ''It's a way to bring love into your home.''

Steven Rosenberg can be reached at rosenberg@globe.com.

This story ran on page 1 of the Globe North section on 6/29/2003.

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