Elder Paper Clutter: How I Turned My Mom’s Medical Files into Confetti (and Why You Should Too)
Top 5 Reasons to Start the Shredding Now
Protect Private Info – Old bank statements make great starter kits for identity thieves.
Clear the Clutter – Less paper, more peace.
You Don’t Need Bank Statements from the Turn of the Century – Seriously, you don’t.
Avoid the Shredding Truck Chase – They leave when they leave.
Because You Can – And because procrastination breeds paper piles.
In 2012, my mother—late sixties, suburban Boston—got six second opinions for hand surgery. That’s six doctors, six thick reports, each printed, paper-clipped, tucked into a labeled manila folder, and slotted neatly into a hanging folder under HAND.
For someone who was in relatively fine health (it’s all relative), my mom had a medical paper trail so vast it deserved its own Dewey Decimal number. Three portable file boxes with handles. These were not just files; they were companions. They traveled from Boston to California, stopped in San Francisco Assisted Living, took a detour to UCSF Hospital, recovered in Santa Rosa Rehab, and then back to Boston. Honestly, they should’ve earned frequent flyer miles.
When she moved to California in 2014, I thought, Now we’ll finally figure out what’s actually wrong with Mom. Naïve. Before every doctor’s appointment, she’d fish out the relevant file like a proud librarian of her own body. Allergies (none). Joint Replacements (some). Meningioma (benign). Thyroid (yawn). Feet, Metatarsals (bunions doing the cha-cha). Medications (benzos: yes; SSRIs: over her dead body). The most well-documented non-medical medical history in the Western Hemisphere.
Fast forward to 2021. Post-COVID-vax, Sandra and I visit Mom with a mission: attack the paper piles under her card table (aka “desk” since 2014). Sandra runs interference—“Hey Phyl, let’s watch The Bodyguard!”—while I go full stealth op.
Boxes in hand, I start the bend-and-dump, twist-and-toss routine. It’s all online now, I mumble. I try not to look, but then—an Explanation of Benefits from four years ago. Tempting. No! Keep dumping. You can do this. You’ve waited your whole life—and hers—to do get rid of them. Even the X-rays. Even the X-rays? (Can you shred X-rays? Asking for a friend.)
I stack the loot in her foyer. Sandra and I head out on foot toward the Toronado bar. One pint in, Sandra says, “Honey, stay here. I’m getting the car to grab those boxes.” Did I just marry the patron saint of shredding?
The next morning, I drive to the industrial shredder and watch my mom’s medical saga turn into a bazillion paper confetti bits. The end. Or at least, the end of HAND.
dōteworthy
Local “free shredding day” events—often hosted by banks, libraries, and city waste departments.
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How do you handle your elder’s ever-growing paper mountains? Do you stealth-shred? Outsource? Or let the piles live on? Drop your shredding sitch in the comments.