10 Dementia Blogs You Should Be Reading
Dementia By Day made the list! 10 Dementia Blogs You Should Be Reading
March 30, 2017
Tag: dementia blog
The Memory Care Cat
I did something this week that I’ve been hoping to do for a while: I picked out a cat for our Memory Care Neighborhood at work. The executive director of our community met me at the local animal shelter to help find the right cat. Immediately upon entering the “cat room,” I saw a sign for a cat named Fred Astaire (pictured above) Fred Astaire was the perfect name for a cat that would be living in our Memory Care—all of our residents love the human Fred Astaire for his dancing. I brought Fred to work with me the next day. The residents took to him instantly. Even though he was new to the environment and still adjusting, Fred Astaire seemed more than happy to meet some new friends. Heather, one of my residents, absolutely loves animals—especially cats. She gasped as she came into the room and spotted Fred. “Oh, aren’t you a beautiful cat?” she asked him. Heather picked him up and put him on her lap. “My mother used to bring cats home to us all the time when I was a kid,” she said. “We took such good care of them.” Heather told us many of her memories about growing up. It was really more than I’d ever heard her talk. This cat was encouraging her to express herself in the most fantastic way. When it came time for lunch, the caregivers tried to coax Heather out to the dining room. “No,” she said, smiling. “I think I’ll just stay here and keep the cat company.”
March 13, 2016
An Imaginary Marriage
“Henry! Get your keys, we gotta go!” “I can’t find my keys, Irene! Where did you put them!” “I didn’t put your keys anywhere! Where did you lose them!” They argued like a married couple, but they were not actually married. Jeff and Ellen were two of my residents who believed that they had been married for years. In fact, they usually called each other by their actual spouse’s names (Henry and Irene) instead of their real names. Still, they each responded to the other’s call. “Henry! Get your shoes on, we gotta go,” Ellen would call. “Irene! Help me with my shoes!” Jeff would yell back. I happily found that, instead of being distraught, Ellen and Jeff’s adult children were agreeable about the “union” between the two. The relationship between Ellen and Jeff consisted mostly of trying to convince the other person to “drive” them home. This was actually a helpful union for the staff because the pair would bug each other about “going home” instead of getting other residents worked up. I have found that many adult children become uncomfortable when relationships develop between their parents with dementia. Sometimes, when the actual spouses are still alive–like in this case–the adult children suggest that it’s “unfair” to the living spouse. But, that’s dementia. It’s not a “fair” group of diseases. And, sometimes, a little bit of confusion provides a person with a partner–and that can be for the best.
February 9, 2016
Is This For Me?
I handed Helen one of the stuffed dogs from our new Pet Shop area. I knew how much she enjoyed the baby dolls we had, so I hoped that she would also like the dogs. “Ohh,” she cried with delight, opening her arms to accept the stuffed dog. “Is this dog for me? Can I keep him?” she asked with wonder. “Sure, you can keep him,” I smiled. “You are the sweetest dog,” she said, softly, holding it to her chest. Helen closed her eyes as she rested her head against the stuffed animal’s fur. Everything we do, we do for our residents. It has to be that way if we are going to truly help and care for people with dementia. Even the smallest gesture—such as handing a stuffed dog to someone—can make a world of difference in that person’s day. I saw her later, walking down the hallway with one of the baby dolls in her arms. “Helen, do you want to come listen to music with us?” I asked her. “No, I can’t. He’ll start to cry,” she whispered, motioning to the baby doll.
February 22, 2015
Easy Bathing.
I walked into one of our “Spa Rooms” to wash my hands. It’s one of three rooms where we help our residents take baths or showers. I paused and looked around. No wonder no residents want to bathe in here, I thought. It looks like a hospital bathroom! Think about your bathroom at home. You’ve probably designed it just the way you want it: warm colors, fresh soaps and candles, and a shower curtain you picked out to match the rest of the decor. Now imagine that you just moved into a community where another person (or two) has to help you bathe. You’re taken into an unfamiliar room, it’s cold, it looks like a facility, and someone helps you take off all of your clothes. You would be uncomfortable and upset—or maybe even angry. I picked up a copy of Bathing Without a Battle to get some new ideas about how to renovate our bathrooms. Here’s what we added, and it completely changed the look and feel of the room: CD player and CDs for residents A corner table Pictures on the walls Flower arrangements A basket A shower curtain Change up your community’s bathroom, or even the bathroom your loved one uses at home, and see the difference it can make. For personalized tips or answers to questions, leave a comment on this post.
February 4, 2015
A Marriage.
A lot of people fear that their spouse or life partner will get dementia. Many people are already coping with it. It’s incredibly hard to watch someone you love struggle with cognitive decline. But what if you both had dementia? Martin* and Joyce* have been married for over fifty years. They both have dementia, but Joyce is far deeper into Alzheimer’s disease. The couple lives together in the same room in a dementia care community, just as they had lived in the same home for decades. Joyce can often be found walking the halls of the community, picking up objects and carrying them around with her. She tends to bring items back to their room and leave them on the couch beside Martin. She’s a big fan of the dementia-care baby dolls, and typically has at least one in her arms. Martin doesn’t say anything about her babies, even though he knows that they are not real. He watches her carefully as she places the doll on the dining room table they share. I think, in some sort of tragically beautiful way, that it is wonderful that this couple has not been split up by dementia the way many others have. Instead, they live much as they always have lived: together.
January 25, 2015
The Woman Who Wouldn't Sit Down.
“She’ll sit down on couches, in a chair, wherever—but I cannot get her to sit down on the toilet!” one of our Resident Assistants, Brittany, sighed in our morning meeting. “Susannah gets really stiff and tries to hold her pants up,” she continued. Susannah is incredibly pleasant, but she is also in a moderately advanced stage of Alzheimer’s disease. She walks throughout the community during the day, picking up objects, putting them down, and using small, sweet phrases to speak. About an hour later, Brittany and I stood in Susannah’s bathroom. I was intrigued by this problem and wanted to solve it. Thinking that Susannah was feeling uncomfortable having her pants down in front of another person, I had her hold a towel in front of her legs while I reached for her pants. “Hmmmm, yep, that’s that,” she said, gripping her pants. I then tried another technique and handed Susannah her favorite baby doll. “Ohh, hello,” she cooed at the doll. This time, she let me take her pants down to her ankles while she “watched” the baby. Brittany and I then asked her to sit down on the toilet. Susannah stiffened like a wooden board. “Do you want to sit down?” I asked her. “Hmmm, look at this,” she said, misunderstanding the question, pointing to the baby. Then she said, “There’s a hole.” This statement confused me at first. A hole? I thought. I looked at the toilet and remembered Brittany’s first statement, she’ll sit on chairs, couches… I grabbed a bright blue towel from the bathroom wall and laid it over the toilet seat. “Hey, Susannah, sit down here,” I said gently. “Oh, okay,” she agreed, and sat down. After she sat down on the new blue seat, Brittany and I gently lifted her slightly and quickly slid the towel out from under her. It was not the modesty that was upsetting her: it was the toilet itself. She was afraid of falling into the toilet bowl. Susannah went to the bathroom using the towel method twice that day without any problems.
January 23, 2015
I'm Not Old Like These People.
“I’ve made a mistake. I came here once to visit this place with all of the elderly people, but I don’t want to be here anymore. All these old people live here,” Mary* whispered to me. Many of my residents do not know how old they are. Every once in a while, Mary will become very agitated and demand to go “home” to her parents. “My mother will be very worried about me,” she’ll say. “She doesn’t know that I’m here.” Mary is in her early 90s. Her parents have been dead for decades, but she does not believe that she is anywhere over the age of 25. She will look up and see all of the “elderly people” around her, and she’ll become confused, wondering why she’s there. Here’s what you don’t want to do in this situation: remind her that she’s 93 and living in a dementia care community. Meet her at her level and engage her in her reality. “That’s okay, Mary,” I replied, touching her hand. “I know it’s strange to spend time with all these old people. I’ll call your mom and let her know that you’re here.” “Oh, that would be wonderful, thank you,” she sighed with relief.
January 18, 2015
Community College.
Our nurse stopped by my office around lunchtime. “William* is really irritated this morning,” she said. “He keeps saying that he has sign up for community college classes, and he’s apparently been asking people about it all day!” William is in his 80s, has dementia, cannot ambulate without assistance, and definitely cannot sign up for classes at the local community college. I also happen to know, however, that when William starts on a mission, he needs to feel like he’s completed that mission. It is so important to embrace his reality and provide him with what he needs: validation and care. It’s not about “lying” or “tricking” him—it’s about understanding his needs as a person with dementia. We sat in my office and I pulled up a Word document. I looked up the local community college’s logo and pasted it on the blank page. “Thank you for your interest in community college,” I typed. We grinned as I printed the page and attached it to a clipboard. I walked down the hallway and found William sitting at his lunch table. “Hey, William,” I smiled. “I heard that you wanted to sign up for classes at community college?” His eyes widened and he looked up at me with wonder. “Here’s the sign up sheet! Just write down what classes you’re interested in and sign it,” I explained. “Oh! Thank you! You are the sweetest girl!” he cried with happiness. His eyes were bright and he picked up the pen with enthusiasm. “I’ve wanted this all morning! Thank you so much!” I left the sheet with him and exited the dining room. Our nurse was standing at the doorway. “That was great just to see the smile on his face,” she said.
January 15, 2015
My Shadow.
One of my residents, Vera*, was laughing so hard that tears were brimming at the corners of her eyes. She dabbed them away with a tissue and tried hard not to continue laughing. “He’s following you around,” she said, pointing to the man behind me. Charles* stood there quietly, not two feet away. “Where are we going?” he asked in his usual soft tone. Charles has recently begun following me around the dementia care community where I work. It’s not always just me: sometimes he’ll attach himself to other people who work there. He can’t come with me everywhere, of course, so I often try to get him engaged in an activity or introduce him to another resident. Usually, other residents are happy to have a friend to walk with. “I would ditch him, quick,” Vera whispered, smiling, dabbing at her eyes. Sometimes people with dementia will “shadow” someone who they care about for a sense of comfort. Charles didn’t realize that his behavior was slightly disconcerting. In fact, he was most interested in where we were going next. Most of all, he didn’t want to be alone. Check out an article on Alzheimer’s Reading Room for more information.
January 10, 2015
