Nestled on a quiet tree-lined street in suburban Portland, Sunset Valley Senior Living has long prided itself on feeling more like a home than a "facility." With 85 residents—most in their 80s and 90s, many living with mobility challenges like arthritis, post-stroke weakness, or Parkinson's—its hallways are usually filled with the hum of conversation, the clink of coffee mugs in the dining room, and the occasional sound of a wheelchair rolling by. But three years ago, that hum was often overshadowed by a quieter, heavier tension: staff were stretched thin, residents were spending more time in bed, and falls were on the rise.
"We had a team of incredible nurses and aides, but the physical demands were breaking them down," recalls Maria Gonzalez, Sunset Valley's nurse manager, who's been with the facility for 12 years. "Aides were lifting residents 10-15 times a shift, and we were seeing more strains and burnout. Meanwhile, residents who once walked to meals or played bingo were stuck in their rooms because getting them into a standard wheelchair felt like a production. Morale was low, and we knew we needed to find a better way."
Sunset Valley's struggles weren't unique. Like many senior care facilities, it faced a perfect storm: an aging population with complex mobility needs, a nationwide shortage of direct care staff, and the pressure to keep residents safe while preserving their independence. In 2020, the facility tracked some sobering numbers:
For 89-year-old Tom Bennett, a retired teacher who'd suffered a stroke in 2019, the loss of mobility was particularly hard. "I used to walk to the garden every morning to feed the birds," he says. "After the stroke, even getting to the dining room felt impossible. I'd wait 20 minutes for an aide to help me up, and by then, I didn't have the energy to eat. I started skipping meals. It wasn't just my body—it was my spirit, too."
Staff felt the strain, too. "I'd go home with a sore back and worry if I'd have the strength to come back the next day," says James Rivera, a certified nursing assistant (CNA) at Sunset Valley. "We were doing our best, but there just weren't enough hands. And when you're rushing to get someone out of bed, you can't stop to chat or ask how their grandkids are doing. The connection—the heart of this job—was getting lost."
In early 2021, Sunset Valley's leadership team—including Gonzalez, physical therapist Dr. Lina Patel, and executive director Mark Thompson—began researching mobility solutions. They knew standard wheelchairs weren't cutting it: they limited movement, required heavy lifting, and didn't encourage residents to rebuild strength. "We wanted something that would empower residents, not just transport them," Dr. Patel explains. "Something that could grow with their abilities, whether they needed a little help or a lot."
After months of research—attending virtual trade shows, consulting with other facilities, and even visiting a neighboring care home that had adopted new technology—they narrowed in on two types of equipment: electric homecare nursing beds with integrated mobility features and robotic gait training devices. The goal? To combine "passive" mobility (getting residents out of bed safely) with "active" rehabilitation (helping them rebuild strength and balance).
"We didn't want a one-size-fits-all solution," Thompson says. "Some residents needed a bed that could gently lift them into a standing position, while others could benefit from a gait trainer that let them practice walking with support. We also needed something that was user-friendly for staff—no complex controls that would slow them down."
After demoing several models, the team chose two key pieces of equipment:
The price tag was significant—around $150,000 for 10 beds and 3 gait trainers—but Thompson and his team saw it as an investment. "We crunched the numbers: if we reduced falls by even 30%, we'd save on hospital readmissions. If we cut staff overtime and burnout, we'd reduce turnover costs. And most importantly, we'd be giving residents their dignity back."
By early 2022, the new equipment arrived, and Sunset Valley launched a 12-week implementation plan. The first step? Training—for staff and residents alike. "We didn't just hand over a manual and say, 'figure it out,'" Gonzalez laughs. "We brought in reps from the manufacturer to lead workshops, and we paired experienced CNAs with newer staff to practice using the beds and gait trainers. We even did role-plays: aides pretended to be residents, and residents pretended to be aides. It helped everyone feel comfortable."
Residents were involved from the start, too. Dr. Patel and her therapy team assessed each resident's mobility level, then created personalized plans. For Tom Bennett, who had partial paralysis on his left side, they started with the electric homecare bed. "The first time they used the stand-assist mode, I was nervous," Tom admits. "But the bed moved so slowly—like a gentle hug lifting me up. When I stood there, unsupported, for the first time in a year, I cried. The aide said, 'See? You've still got it, Tom.' And I thought, 'Maybe I do.'"
Not everyone was on board at first. Mrs. Elena Hernandez, 87, who'd lived at Sunset Valley for five years, refused to try the gait trainer. "I'm too old for gadgets," she told Dr. Patel. "Just let me be." But when she saw Tom using the trainer to walk to the garden ("He was feeding the birds again!"), she changed her mind. "I told Lina, 'If that stubborn old man can do it, so can I.'" Within a month, Mrs. Hernandez was using the gait trainer three times a week to walk to the craft room.
Staff also needed time to adjust. "At first, I worried the equipment would replace us," James Rivera admits. "But it didn't—it freed us up. Instead of spending 20 minutes lifting Mrs. G., I could help her use the bed to stand, then sit with her while she ate. We talked about her daughter's wedding. That's the part of the job I missed."
A year after implementing the new equipment, Sunset Valley saw dramatic changes—both in data and in daily life. Here's how the metrics shifted:
| Metric | Pre-Implementation (2021) | Post-Implementation (2023) | Change |
|---|---|---|---|
| Average hours per day spent mobile (out of bed/chair) | 10 hours | 14 hours | +40% |
| Staff time spent on physical transfers | 35% of shifts | 15% of shifts | -57% |
| Fall incidents | 22 per quarter | 8 per quarter | -64% |
| Resident satisfaction (independence) | 62/100 | 89/100 | +44% |
| Staff burnout rates (self-reported) | 42% | 18% | -57% |
But the numbers tell only part of the story. Walk down Sunset Valley's halls today, and you'll see residents like Tom Bennett leading a weekly bird-watching club in the garden, or Mrs. Hernandez teaching a watercolor class. The dining room is busier, with residents arriving on their own—some using gait trainers, others using the electric beds converted into chairs. "It's like night and day," says James Rivera. "I come to work excited now. I get to be a caregiver, not just a lifter."
For Mark Thompson, the impact goes beyond the facility's walls. "We've had other care homes reach out asking how we did it," he says. "The key wasn't just buying equipment—it was remembering that mobility isn't just about moving bodies. It's about moving spirits. When residents can walk to a meal or hug a friend, they feel alive again. And when staff can focus on connecting, not just lifting, they stay longer. It's a win-win."
Of course, the journey wasn't without hiccups. The initial cost was a hurdle—Sunset Valley had to apply for a grant from the state's senior care innovation fund to cover part of the expense. There were also technical glitches: one gait trainer's battery died mid-session, and a few residents found the bed controls confusing at first. "We solved the battery issue by creating a charging schedule, and we added picture labels to the bed controls for residents with memory loss," Gonzalez explains. "The biggest lesson? Flexibility. You can't plan for everything, but you can plan to adapt."
Another challenge was resistance from family members. "Some thought the equipment was 'too fancy' or that we were replacing human care," Thompson says. "We held family meetings, showed them videos of residents using the beds and trainers, and invited them to try the equipment themselves. Once they saw their mom or dad walking again, the skepticism faded."
Three years after implementing gait wheelchairs and robotic gait training, Sunset Valley Senior Living is unrecognizable in the best way. The halls are busier, the laughter louder, and the focus has shifted from "managing care" to "celebrating life." For Maria Gonzalez, the takeaway is clear: "Mobility is medicine. When you give residents the tools to move, you're not just preventing falls—you're giving them back their sense of purpose. And that's the best care we can provide."
As for Tom Bennett? He's now the facility's unofficial "gait trainer ambassador," and he's even planning a trip to visit his granddaughter's college graduation next spring. "I'll use the electric bed to get to the car, and maybe the gait trainer to walk across the stage with her," he says, grinning. "Who says 89 is too old for new adventures?"
Sunset Valley's story isn't just about wheelchairs or beds. It's about remembering that behind every mobility challenge is a person—someone who once walked, danced, or simply strolled to the mailbox. And with the right tools, that person is still in there, waiting to move again.