In aged care, a shower is more than a task: it’s a moment that can either honour a resident’s dignity or leave them feeling exposed and uncared for. Yet, there’s a divide among workers: should you turn the water off to soap a resident, saving water but risking their comfort? Or keep the shower running to ensure warmth and dignity?
his debate goes beyond technique, touching on health, cultural habits, and the systems shaping care in Australia. So, what’s the right approach?
Why do some workers turn the water off?
For many aged care workers, turning off the water while soaping a resident is second nature. In Australia, where “short showers” are drilled into us from childhood, and in countries where water is scarce, conserving it is a deeply ingrained habit.
For workers who grew up during droughts, wars, or economic hardship, whether here or overseas, saving water feels like common sense. Many migrant workers, who make up a large part of Australia’s aged care workforce, bring these practices from their home countries, where turning off the tap is standard.
But there’s another factor: training. Too often, aged care workers are rushed through online modules or handed checklists that prioritise efficiency over empathy. These rarely teach the nuances of keeping a resident warm or ensuring they feel respected. When time is tight, turning off the water can seem like a practical shortcut. But is it worth the cost?
Does turning off the water harm residents?
Older adults aren’t just “old”: their bodies work differently. Their skin is thinner, their ability to regulate temperature is weaker, and their immune systems are less robust. Sitting wet and exposed, even for a minute or two, can lead to chills, colds, or worse: chest infections.
For residents with dementia, who may struggle to voice discomfort, the risk is even higher. A cold, rushed shower isn’t just uncomfortable: it’s a health hazard.
Then there’s the emotional side. Workers have shared stories of residents feeling “scrubbed down” or “hosed off” when the water is turned off mid-shower. One resident compared it to being “treated like a dog at the groomer’s.”
Another became withdrawn, as if their sense of self was eroded by impersonal care. These aren’t just complaints: they’re signs that we’re failing to treat residents as people with dignity and worth.
Are workers set up to succeed?
This isn’t about blaming workers. Aged care staff are often overworked, underpaid, and stretched thin. Understaffing means showers are rushed, leaving little time for warmth or conversation.
Training often focuses on tasks, not the human side of care. And for migrant workers, cultural differences can create confusion without proper guidance. If we want better showers, we need to support workers with better training, fair wages, and enough time to do their jobs properly.
How can we make showers better for everyone?
So, should you turn the water off or keep it running? The answer lies in putting residents first. Here’s how we can do it:
What would you want in their shoes?
Every shower is a chance to show care, not just clean a body. A warm, gentle shower can remind a resident they’re valued.
A cold, rushed one can make them feel like a task to be checked off. Ask yourself: if I were in their shoes, how would I want to be showered?
If the answer doesn’t match what’s happening, it’s time to change. Because every resident deserves to feel clean, warm, and above all, human.
What a excellent article. My experience of being left to shower myself was equally awful as I had to keep one foot dry due to an infected toe. I never found a way of putting on the water proof stocking and feeling safe. Carers were told not to help me as I had capacity. I often felt rushed as others residents waited to follow me in the shower. All in all a horrible experience. I may have had capacity but balancing on one foot to keep the other dry was beyond me on most occasions. No wonder I was reluctant to shower! How lovely it was when I went home after leaving that dreadful place. I also caught scabies while I was in there as a voluntary resident just seeking a little support after living on my own had become diffuicult.
This article reminds me of a dear friend of mine, since departed the mortal coil, was an aged care nurse in a facility. She was the epitome of empathy and love. She respected her residents and each and every one in her care was never rushed to shower, eat or move at the home.
Of course, not all staff considered her care special; rather, she held up ‘showers’ each day before the day staff took over, putting them behind.
I’m pleased to say, she was aware this bothered staff, but her empathy for the residents outweighed how staff perceived her work.
I don’t look forward to having to deal with this and the thousand other issues facing me when I have to go into care.
I think a shower room should be heated to a temperature that’s suitable for the resident.
I feel that the art of delivering personal care in total to any one who is in an aged care facility, respite service or hospital is now lost. I am not very old but through out my training the feedback from all unwell people was about brushing there teeth, a nice hot shower or washing there hair, no one really carer that I dressed their wound well or gave them the correct medications. All staff need to understand that the basic human needs of someone when they are unwell or less capable or just even tired of doing it themselves; is to feel assisted and comforted. Just because someone can brush there hair often for an older persons with dementia a brush of the hair can bring back great memories. Lets prompt independence but also compassion. As the article states we need to allow staff time to delivery these deeply personal services well.