When I visit Gregory during meal time, which I often do, Manny and I take turns helping him with his meal.
When Gregory is with Manny, I help the other people at the table with their cloth napkins (do not call them bibs,) open and pour their thickened juice drinks, get a glass of ice water for Gregory and Martha (they seem to prefer it to the juice) and sometimes I help with feeding those who cannot do it themselves.
Directly across from Gregory is Alvira (close but not really her name to protect the innocent.) She is blind from what I can tell and when she does feed herself it is usually with her hands. Most often she waits patiently until one of the CNAs can help her, but on very busy days, I chip in.
She opens her mouth very little and therefore it is hard to get any food in. It is kind of like a balancing act but if one pays careful attention, one can get the spoon to her mouth at the right time and unload most of the food. She is on a "Puree Diet" so the food is creamy, moosey, custardy and it goes down easily.
When she is ready for the next bite, she will put her gnarled hand on your arm and stroke it. When helped patiently, she eats quite a full meal.
Yesterday I was helping her eat and I noticed that Gregory was watching us. He had such an engaged, empathetic, grateful look on his face watching me help Alvira. He needed no words to communicate to me that he was happy I was helping her and in some ways wished he could. His empathy for those around him is great and it is beautiful to see.
Showing posts with label Helping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Helping. Show all posts
Friday, September 11, 2015
Friday, July 10, 2015
Expect the Unexpected
With July 4th over, I decided it was time to take the small American flags out of the flower center pieces that live on each table in the dining room. B was wandering around and when she saw one of the aides she asked, "Can I help you?"
The aide, busy as they always are, said, "Thank you B, but I do not need any help."
It was obvious to me so I asked B, "Would you help me get the American Flags and put them away?"
She followed me from table to table. I removed the flags and handed them to her. With each new set of flags, she asked, "Where should I put them?" B has the habit of repetitive speaking.
Each time, I replied, "Just follow me and I'll show you where they go."
When we had collected all of the flags, and B did a good job of gathering and holding on to all 26 of them, and having asked 13 times about where she should put them, we went over to the hutch and I opened the door. I pointed, "They go here."
"Here, you take them," she said.
"No, you put them here," I replied, pointing again.
After a "back and forth" of three or four times, she finally put them on the shelf in the hutch and I thanked her.
"You are welcome," said B.
The entire activity took about ten minutes (B moves slowly) but both she and I felt successful. B for having helped, me for having allowed B to help!
The aide, busy as they always are, said, "Thank you B, but I do not need any help."
It was obvious to me so I asked B, "Would you help me get the American Flags and put them away?"
She followed me from table to table. I removed the flags and handed them to her. With each new set of flags, she asked, "Where should I put them?" B has the habit of repetitive speaking.
Each time, I replied, "Just follow me and I'll show you where they go."
When we had collected all of the flags, and B did a good job of gathering and holding on to all 26 of them, and having asked 13 times about where she should put them, we went over to the hutch and I opened the door. I pointed, "They go here."
"Here, you take them," she said.
"No, you put them here," I replied, pointing again.
After a "back and forth" of three or four times, she finally put them on the shelf in the hutch and I thanked her.
"You are welcome," said B.
The entire activity took about ten minutes (B moves slowly) but both she and I felt successful. B for having helped, me for having allowed B to help!
• • •
At the table behind Gregory sits S, a very tall strong man of 70 or 75. He sits at the table by himself because he is very unsocial and has a tendency to throw his food, juice, glass, napkin, and cutlery at people or at the wall if there are no people.
On the same day I helped B, I was helping Gregory with his dinner and S was banging his cup of juice on the table quite energetically. The cloth and everything else had been removed but he had the cup, three quarters filled with juice, firmly in his hand. I thought I would be helpful if I could take the cup from him and put it down on the table out of reach. "S, may I have the cup?" I asked. I was able take it from him.
Next S began lifting and bouncing the table at least as energetically as he had been banging the cup. The cup was about to go over when I grabbed it and began to put it on the chair next to his table. Then I had an idea. I offered him a drink by lifting the glass to his mouth as I asked, "Would you like a drink?"
He didn't fight me but drank as if he had been as parched as the desert. I stopped to let him take a breath and offered the juice again. He drank again. In fact he finished all the juice in the cup before I placed it over on the chair.
Maybe he just wanted a drink and didn't know how to do it or how to ask for it. Instead of reacting to his negative responsive behaviors, it was so easy for me to turn the situation around.
• • •
Across from Gregory at the dining room table sits A.
A is blind, has a repetitive habit of tapping the table and/or smoothing her napkin or the table cloth. She needs to be fed by one of the aides so she sits in front of her meal until one is free to help her.
Gregory pointed at her a couple of times and mumbled affectionately about A, to me it felt he was empathizing with her. He gestured so gently and lovingly at her. At one point, Gregory began to cry over A's situation.
This caused F, who also sits across from Gregory, to begin keening at a loud, shrill pitch. "Where is my husband?" she cried. "I am worried about my husband," she informed and continued keening.
This caused Gregory to begin grieving over both A and F and crying as well.
Eventually A got fed, F was taken out in the hall to be soothed, and Gregory was at peace again.
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
5 Simple Ways To Help
Thanks to Kate Swaffer for sharing this:
Taken from India Times: http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/life-style/health-fitness/health-news/5-simple-ways-to-help-someone-with-dementia/articleshow/35617213.cms?
Connect with the person
Often just finding out about a person's history can help you understand them better -and give you things to talk about.
One true story that proves this theory is about an old woman with dementia in a care home. She was always tapping on the table and irritating people, until one day someone discovered she worked at Bletchley Park during the war and helped crack the famous Enigma code. All her tapping was actually Morse code.
Make surrounding dementia-friendly
Dementia can affect perception and vision, so shiny floors look wet and slippery, or swirly carpets look like snakes. Being aware of this and looking out for potential problems can help. For example, labelling how things work -such as kettles or TVs.
Be patient with them
A person with dementia can get easily confused and this can be very frightening. Avoid showing signs of anger or frustration -give them plenty of time to speak and keep calm -this will ensure they don't feel unduly anxious or stressed.
Avoid correction them
It's natural to want to `help along' if someone keeps forgetting important facts or events, for instance finishing a sentence for them -but experience proves this can leave both parties frustrated. Try embracing what they can remember instead.
Be sure to reminisce
Short-term memory loss is often a first sign of dementia, but that doesn't mean long-term memories are forgotten. So sharing old stories from the past can still bring a smile to someone's face and make them feel like themselves.
- Daily Mirror
Taken from India Times: http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/life-style/health-fitness/health-news/5-simple-ways-to-help-someone-with-dementia/articleshow/35617213.cms?
Connect with the person
Often just finding out about a person's history can help you understand them better -and give you things to talk about.
One true story that proves this theory is about an old woman with dementia in a care home. She was always tapping on the table and irritating people, until one day someone discovered she worked at Bletchley Park during the war and helped crack the famous Enigma code. All her tapping was actually Morse code.
Make surrounding dementia-friendly
Dementia can affect perception and vision, so shiny floors look wet and slippery, or swirly carpets look like snakes. Being aware of this and looking out for potential problems can help. For example, labelling how things work -such as kettles or TVs.
Be patient with them
A person with dementia can get easily confused and this can be very frightening. Avoid showing signs of anger or frustration -give them plenty of time to speak and keep calm -this will ensure they don't feel unduly anxious or stressed.
Avoid correction them
It's natural to want to `help along' if someone keeps forgetting important facts or events, for instance finishing a sentence for them -but experience proves this can leave both parties frustrated. Try embracing what they can remember instead.
Be sure to reminisce
Short-term memory loss is often a first sign of dementia, but that doesn't mean long-term memories are forgotten. So sharing old stories from the past can still bring a smile to someone's face and make them feel like themselves.
- Daily Mirror
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
This Evening at Lieberman
When I arrived, Gregory was already at dinner. When he saw me, without the usual delay in focusing time he loudly said, "Oh, so you did come!" He was very pleased to see me then cried the requisite "Tears of Joy." He was very present, in a good mood, and ate what seemed like a triple portion of spaghetti and meat sauce, green beans, and mandarin oranges for dessert.
Batia, one of Gregory's table mates was complaining to me that the chair (wheel chair) was not cooperating. It was as if someone had "pulled out the bottom and I can't make heads or tails of it." I tried to help her sit further back in the chair but to no avail. I folded up four or five cloth napkin/bibs to make a sort of back support. She cooperatively leaned forward and I placed the "pillow." I asked how that felt and she said it did some good but not enough. I went back to Gregory's room and grabbed one of his extra pillows, brought it into the dining room and placed it behind Batia's back. "Much better," she told me, "Where did you get your training?"
Martha was having trouble using her arthritic hands to maneuver her fork around the long strands of spaghetti. I offered to help and this time she accepted. I cut the strands into smaller pieces, mixed them with the meat sauce, and asked her to try. She was able to scoop up a mouthful and seemed grateful. To distract from the situation and to soften her need for help, I stated, "You know I was a waiter many years ago." "Oh," said Martha, "That makes sense." A bit later when she was eating her oranges, I asked her what her favorite fruit was. She thought for a moment, giggled, and said, "I am so old and tired that I do not have a favorite!"
Haroon was sitting at a table just behind us. I gave him my usual smile, head nod, and a whispered "Hello." "F U C K Y O U ! ! !" was his usual response. I smiled and said, "Thank you."
Batia, one of Gregory's table mates was complaining to me that the chair (wheel chair) was not cooperating. It was as if someone had "pulled out the bottom and I can't make heads or tails of it." I tried to help her sit further back in the chair but to no avail. I folded up four or five cloth napkin/bibs to make a sort of back support. She cooperatively leaned forward and I placed the "pillow." I asked how that felt and she said it did some good but not enough. I went back to Gregory's room and grabbed one of his extra pillows, brought it into the dining room and placed it behind Batia's back. "Much better," she told me, "Where did you get your training?"
Martha was having trouble using her arthritic hands to maneuver her fork around the long strands of spaghetti. I offered to help and this time she accepted. I cut the strands into smaller pieces, mixed them with the meat sauce, and asked her to try. She was able to scoop up a mouthful and seemed grateful. To distract from the situation and to soften her need for help, I stated, "You know I was a waiter many years ago." "Oh," said Martha, "That makes sense." A bit later when she was eating her oranges, I asked her what her favorite fruit was. She thought for a moment, giggled, and said, "I am so old and tired that I do not have a favorite!"
Haroon was sitting at a table just behind us. I gave him my usual smile, head nod, and a whispered "Hello." "F U C K Y O U ! ! !" was his usual response. I smiled and said, "Thank you."
Monday, September 30, 2013
The Scourge of Helpfulness
There is an old story that goes: You can tell the difference between old age and Alzheimer's Disease. In old age you forget where you put your glasses. In Alzheimer's you forget you wear glasses!
This morning Gregory came into the bedroom. Something is wrong. He had been trying to take his morning pills in the kitchen but his glass of water was in the bedroom. Sometimes, when I am in the kitchen with him, I remind, "Your water is in the bedroom." Sometimes this helps, other times it doesn't. Other times I walk him into the bedroom and point at the water. Sometimes this helps, other times it doesn't. Still other times I take him over to the nightstand and hand him his water. Still yet other times I bring the water into the kitchen to avoid all this confusion. Either way, he does not associate having a glass of water with part of the process of taking his pills. At least not all of the time and now-a-days less and less.
Next he was at his table in the living room (which he cannot associate by name as in "Please go put this on your table.") fumbling with his reading glasses. He put them on his glass case, then next to his glass case, then under his glass case. I helped, "Put them IN your glass case." Didn't help so I backed out. This upset him so I explained, "No problem ... I tried to help but it didn't help so I backed off ... No harm done ... No babies are dying ... I love you ... That is all that matters." To which he replied, "OK."
When he sat down to read the newspaper, I realized the problem. He had some vague idea that he needed his reading glasses to read the newspaper but didn't connect the pieces, i.e. get glasses, sit down in front of your newspaper, put glasses on, read the newspaper. Instead, after the previous short circuit, he just sat in front of the newspaper confused. Again, I tried to help. I asked, "Can you read the newspaper?" "What?" "Can you see the newspaper?" "What do you mean?" So I went over and got his glasses and handed them to him. "Yes, I was going to get my glasses," he replied. OK.
Now how to handle all of this may seem obvious to you. And what I should have said, or not said, may be what you are thinking about. And I too, in looking back, realize several different ways I could of handled this. And maybe next time I will be able to handle it differently. At least this time I didn't get angry, or rude, or short, or impatient. But also I wasn't helpful. I also realize that no matter what I do, being helpful most often backfires on me.
And don't judge until you are the one trying to figure out how to go about ANYTHING with a person who is fairly advanced in Alzheimer's.
A final example. This morning he got his undershirt and underpants on correctly but had his sweatshirt on backwards. He realized this and corrected it. Next he got his sweatpants on backwards and corrected it three times only to have them on backward again. I helped, "You keep putting them on the same way. Try turning them around." So he held the pants up in front of himself and turned around. Not the pants but rather his body. Then holding the pants in front of him (oriented incorrectly) he walked forward and then backward and did this two more times. I got up and using his hands, slowly helped him to turn the pants around the correct way, in my mind trying to demonstrate the process. "Now try them on I suggested." He did, they were on the right way, but I don't think he really understood what had happened.
Somehow, I keep going.
This morning Gregory came into the bedroom. Something is wrong. He had been trying to take his morning pills in the kitchen but his glass of water was in the bedroom. Sometimes, when I am in the kitchen with him, I remind, "Your water is in the bedroom." Sometimes this helps, other times it doesn't. Other times I walk him into the bedroom and point at the water. Sometimes this helps, other times it doesn't. Still other times I take him over to the nightstand and hand him his water. Still yet other times I bring the water into the kitchen to avoid all this confusion. Either way, he does not associate having a glass of water with part of the process of taking his pills. At least not all of the time and now-a-days less and less.
Next he was at his table in the living room (which he cannot associate by name as in "Please go put this on your table.") fumbling with his reading glasses. He put them on his glass case, then next to his glass case, then under his glass case. I helped, "Put them IN your glass case." Didn't help so I backed out. This upset him so I explained, "No problem ... I tried to help but it didn't help so I backed off ... No harm done ... No babies are dying ... I love you ... That is all that matters." To which he replied, "OK."
When he sat down to read the newspaper, I realized the problem. He had some vague idea that he needed his reading glasses to read the newspaper but didn't connect the pieces, i.e. get glasses, sit down in front of your newspaper, put glasses on, read the newspaper. Instead, after the previous short circuit, he just sat in front of the newspaper confused. Again, I tried to help. I asked, "Can you read the newspaper?" "What?" "Can you see the newspaper?" "What do you mean?" So I went over and got his glasses and handed them to him. "Yes, I was going to get my glasses," he replied. OK.
Now how to handle all of this may seem obvious to you. And what I should have said, or not said, may be what you are thinking about. And I too, in looking back, realize several different ways I could of handled this. And maybe next time I will be able to handle it differently. At least this time I didn't get angry, or rude, or short, or impatient. But also I wasn't helpful. I also realize that no matter what I do, being helpful most often backfires on me.
And don't judge until you are the one trying to figure out how to go about ANYTHING with a person who is fairly advanced in Alzheimer's.
A final example. This morning he got his undershirt and underpants on correctly but had his sweatshirt on backwards. He realized this and corrected it. Next he got his sweatpants on backwards and corrected it three times only to have them on backward again. I helped, "You keep putting them on the same way. Try turning them around." So he held the pants up in front of himself and turned around. Not the pants but rather his body. Then holding the pants in front of him (oriented incorrectly) he walked forward and then backward and did this two more times. I got up and using his hands, slowly helped him to turn the pants around the correct way, in my mind trying to demonstrate the process. "Now try them on I suggested." He did, they were on the right way, but I don't think he really understood what had happened.
Somehow, I keep going.
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