Many of the elderly would have a looser definition of what “taking care of myself and enjoying life” is than younger people.
My mother was able to stay in her apartment in the staged care community where she wisely moved to in her late 70’s until the end. Towards the end of her life, we had a woman come in for several hours a week to supervise the shower and shampoo, fill the pill boxes and just check on things in general. My sis, her husband or I popped in also several times a week also for a chat, a cup of tea, and a general appraisal. We did all her finances and took her to all doctor’s appointments…very few towards the end, mainly the cardiologist for her pacemaker.
Until the day she had a massive stroke (which took her out three days later), she chose to hobble on her walker to the communal dining room twice a day, easily ¼ mile each way. It took her forever, but the exercise was not a bad thing and it was better than sitting in the apt., alone, getting a meal on a tray.
She did say that she was ready to die, but kept going to meals with a hearty appetite. She continued to read and watch TV and enjoy her very brief (15–20 minutes) with us. Was it fun? I don’t know.