As Gregory continues to leave his abilities behind, I continue to creatively compensate. When I am successful I feel very good. When I am not I feel hopeless. How's that for mood swings?
We have always had lamps by our bedside. Perhaps the new condo was a little darker then we were used to, what with the concrete ceilings and all, so we added two "up lights" on top of my computer desk and two on top of the bookcases on the other side of the room.
The switch on the wall controls, as in most modern buildings, one side of each double outlet. So when plugging in your fixtures, use the correct side of the outlet and you can control all of the fixtures in the room with one click.
I used to call them lamps but in the architecture world, lamps refer to bulbs while fixtures refer to lamps. Get it?
Now the switch concept works well but when you are in bed, finished reading, half asleep and ready to call it quits for the evening, getting out of bed is a pain. You could pop out of bed and switch them off individually or at the wall switch by the door to the bedroom.
When the need arises to turn on a light during the middle of the night, one could kill themself in the darkness on the way to the lamp or wall switch.
Being a creative person, I rigged up the bedroom lighting into two switched extension cords, one of which controls the lights on Gregory's side with the switch at his bed table and the other on my side. This way we could turn off all the lights at bedtime (and on if necessary during the middle of the night.)
In the morning turn them back on at our bedside tables and the entire room of lights can again be controlled by the switch on the wall.
Following all this?
Slowly Gregory could not figure out how to turn off the lights on his side of the room. He could not locate the switch fastened to the back of his table and if he could find it, did not know how to work it. One night he could, the next he couldn't. It was a case of diminishing returns with the "not able" increasing and the "able" decreasing. Finally I would hop out of bed and do the light thing.
Next, I discovered a system at the hardware store whereby the extension cords could be plugged into a remote button. My side worked the same way (since I do not have Alzheimer's) and Gregory got this little box where he just had to push the ON button or the OFF button to control his lights. I was so hopeful.
The new system worked for only a little while and not without confusion. Which one of the buttons was the ON button and which was the OFF button (even though clearly marked.) And, "Where did I put the damned box anyway. Can't find it."
I felt bad taking over the lamp lighting ceremony but Gregory didn't seem to mind. First I did my switch then I pushed the buttons on the little box to do his side of the room. "Good Night. Love you."
Next I got to thinking, in my "Control that in life which you can since there is so much you cannot," mood. Wouldn't it be nice if I could control all of the lights, since I was now in control of them, with one switch instead of several plus the little box. In high end homes, often there are additional switches on the wall by each side of the bed in addition to the wall by the door to control the outlets.
Wouldn't that be nice just to roll over and with one flick of a switch control all of our bedroom lights? I had our electrician in for another small job and proposed my plan to put a switch on the wall by my side of the bed. "Can be done he said but you would have to move your computer desk so I can get at the outlets behind and run the new wire."
I was not about to unload the desk and all of its millions of wires for the "wireless" network so I killed the idea. But my mind kept working and eventually I came up with a way of using those same switched extension cords to unite all of our fixtures. It works. All I had to do was plug Gregory's cord (with switch on) into my cord (with me controlling on and off,) attach it to my night table and now I fully am in control. Every night when I say "Good Night and Love You" I feel a little spark of joy at being able to control all fixtures with one flick.
P.S. You may be thinking that the bedroom looks like a wired mess with all these extension cords, which any electrician will tell you can be dangerous. Well no. They are minimally few, encased in wall mounted moulding channel covers, and as safe as can be. My dad would be proud of me (considering he was an electrician.)
Showing posts with label Problem Solving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Problem Solving. Show all posts
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Friday, December 28, 2012
Always Thinking
Well one of us can still think, communicate, problem solve ... and thanks for that. It makes both of our lives much easier although I have often wondered what life would be like if both people in a relationship had the big "A." Nothing would get done but boy would their days be interesting.
Often I know what Gregory wants to say before he can say it or when he isn't able to say it. Our friends marvel that I usually know what he is trying to communicate with few or no hints. He'll say something like, "I was thinking..." and then he gets hung up. I finish the sentence "that it would be nice to go to the Botanic Garden?" "Right," he says with a feeling of accomplishment.
I recently solved a problem he has been having. Every morning one of the first things Gregory does is shave. He uses an electric razor which presents various problems. First you have to think about what you are looking for, next you have to remember where your razor is located, then you open the cabinet and take out the Norelco, continuing you plug in the cord, then you have to plug the cord into the wall, next you must remove the razor blade cover, almost finally you have to turn on the shaver, finally you must navigate your face with the razor, back and forth, until all (or most) of the beard is gone. Usually he does well with these skills. Sometimes I need to help but rarely although I have taken over the cleaning and oiling of the machine.
Now that you have the detailed picture, we move on to the problem. A man's beard, often, is indistinguishable from his sideburns. Slowly Gregory's sideburns have been disappearing. I need not go into detail as to why. His barber, I believe, in an effort to even them out ended up taking enough of the sideburns away so as to make Gregory look like he was living in the 1950's again or that he is a Gay Convict or in the Army. You know the look.
I find the look passable but unflattering so I told the barber that I would prefer that Gregory's sideburns NOT be "lifted" and discussed the issue with Gregory as well. Now, how to help him accomplish this task? I pointed out where his sideburns should be and during the pointing realized I probably was doomed. How would I solve this problem? For several mornings I reminded and showed him the geography contours that I hoped his sideburns would follow. Not too successful.
Finally I came up with a solution. Glasses. I had saved a pair of 3-D movie glasses, punched out the plastic lenses, and showed Gregory that if he put the glasses on while shaving, he could "shave up to here." So far it has been working and I am very, if I must say so because no one else will, proud of myself.
Now I have to remember to remind him to put on the glasses but that is no big deal. Watching him try to put the glasses on backwards with the arms sticking out into space, or upside down with the bridge of the glasses resting directionally challenged on his nose, not only amuses me but also amuses him and are easily corrected dilemmas. Once on, the glasses not only solve OUR problem but they also make Gregory look quite intelligent!
Arn't you proud of me?
Often I know what Gregory wants to say before he can say it or when he isn't able to say it. Our friends marvel that I usually know what he is trying to communicate with few or no hints. He'll say something like, "I was thinking..." and then he gets hung up. I finish the sentence "that it would be nice to go to the Botanic Garden?" "Right," he says with a feeling of accomplishment.
I recently solved a problem he has been having. Every morning one of the first things Gregory does is shave. He uses an electric razor which presents various problems. First you have to think about what you are looking for, next you have to remember where your razor is located, then you open the cabinet and take out the Norelco, continuing you plug in the cord, then you have to plug the cord into the wall, next you must remove the razor blade cover, almost finally you have to turn on the shaver, finally you must navigate your face with the razor, back and forth, until all (or most) of the beard is gone. Usually he does well with these skills. Sometimes I need to help but rarely although I have taken over the cleaning and oiling of the machine.
Now that you have the detailed picture, we move on to the problem. A man's beard, often, is indistinguishable from his sideburns. Slowly Gregory's sideburns have been disappearing. I need not go into detail as to why. His barber, I believe, in an effort to even them out ended up taking enough of the sideburns away so as to make Gregory look like he was living in the 1950's again or that he is a Gay Convict or in the Army. You know the look.
I find the look passable but unflattering so I told the barber that I would prefer that Gregory's sideburns NOT be "lifted" and discussed the issue with Gregory as well. Now, how to help him accomplish this task? I pointed out where his sideburns should be and during the pointing realized I probably was doomed. How would I solve this problem? For several mornings I reminded and showed him the geography contours that I hoped his sideburns would follow. Not too successful.
Finally I came up with a solution. Glasses. I had saved a pair of 3-D movie glasses, punched out the plastic lenses, and showed Gregory that if he put the glasses on while shaving, he could "shave up to here." So far it has been working and I am very, if I must say so because no one else will, proud of myself.
Now I have to remember to remind him to put on the glasses but that is no big deal. Watching him try to put the glasses on backwards with the arms sticking out into space, or upside down with the bridge of the glasses resting directionally challenged on his nose, not only amuses me but also amuses him and are easily corrected dilemmas. Once on, the glasses not only solve OUR problem but they also make Gregory look quite intelligent!
Arn't you proud of me?
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Coffee Time Past
Today "Coffee Time" almost disappeared. Gregory always has coffee at 5:00. He pours this morning's leftover coffee into a mug, adds milk, heats it in the microwave for one minute. Then he selects three or four cookies and sits at his desk studying the sunset taking place on the roof top garden outside the condo window. He has been doing this for two or three years now.
Yesterday he asked for some help so I got his coffee ready for him. Today, he arrived at my desk and asked for help again. This time I told him to go ahead and I would help if he needed me. He returned a few minutes later and told me he was afraid, so I joined him in the kitchen. I still did not want to help so I told him I would observe.
He had placed an empty mug on the kitchen counter, got the coffee pot, and with the pot sitting on the counter, kept tipping it until he could see the coffee in the spout (he didn't notice that you could see the coffee level through the glass pot itself,) but he did not know how to go further. He seemed to have lost track of the mug sitting there.
He went through the same motions of tipping the pot and pointing to the spout. It seemed to make sense to him but he did not know how to proceed. He would notice out loud that there was coffee showing in the spout if he tipped the pot far enough. He actually tried pouring a little bit of coffee on the counter to see if that was what he was supposed to do but stopped saying, "That's not right, is it?" I said nothing.
He did this over and over and suddenly began moving the tipped coffee pot towards the mug but then studied and hesitated and put the coffee pot back down on the counter. Finally he seemed to notice the mug sitting there, made the connection, and poured the coffee into the mug. "That easy, huh!" he mumbled.
Next he knew that he needed to add milk. He got the gallon milk container out of the refrigerator, took off the lid, and went through the "tipping" routine again. Another five minutes worth of tipping, studying whether to pour it on the counter or not.
Then he began returning to the refrigerator, milk bottle in hand, and tried to pour milk into the refrigerator on the shelf where it is stored. Over and over. He returned to the counter and added trying to pour the milk onto the bottle cap. He didn't actually pour it on the counter or bottle cap but repeated the motions over and over asking, "Is this right? Is this how you do it? What is wrong here?" Approximately five minutes of attempted milk pouring.
He kept seeking my approval and I kept saying something like, "I am observing to see what you will do." Eventually I suggested, "You want to pour the milk into the mug." He responded as though he understood what I said but repeated the counter and bottle cap routine several more times. He kept looking to me for help and I kept saying, "I am here with you."
He began rehearsing pouring the milk into the mug. He did this three or four times and finally poured the milk into the mug. He was pleased. "Strange isn't it?" was his observation.
"Yes," I answered.
On the way to collect his cookies from the cabinet he told me, "I love you."
"That was never in question," I responded as I often do, "I love you too."
He hugged my head and said again, "I love you."
"Me too," I replied. After assembling his cookies, he correctly put the mug in the microwave for one minute, and was back on target.
It is very painful for me, but every now and then I have to just wait it out and only get involved if he gets too overwhelmed. This time he was in a problem solving mode the entire time. By watching and letting him try to figure it out, perhaps, if he doesn't get too upset, my not helping allows him to keep his self confidence. It allows me to carefully observe so I can try to figure out what is happening.
While I am writing this, he is enjoying his coffee and cookies. Wonder if the skill will be back tomorrow. If it isn't, I will intervene right away and verbalize what I am doing. Maybe that will help. I keep trying.
Yesterday he asked for some help so I got his coffee ready for him. Today, he arrived at my desk and asked for help again. This time I told him to go ahead and I would help if he needed me. He returned a few minutes later and told me he was afraid, so I joined him in the kitchen. I still did not want to help so I told him I would observe.
He had placed an empty mug on the kitchen counter, got the coffee pot, and with the pot sitting on the counter, kept tipping it until he could see the coffee in the spout (he didn't notice that you could see the coffee level through the glass pot itself,) but he did not know how to go further. He seemed to have lost track of the mug sitting there.
He went through the same motions of tipping the pot and pointing to the spout. It seemed to make sense to him but he did not know how to proceed. He would notice out loud that there was coffee showing in the spout if he tipped the pot far enough. He actually tried pouring a little bit of coffee on the counter to see if that was what he was supposed to do but stopped saying, "That's not right, is it?" I said nothing.
He did this over and over and suddenly began moving the tipped coffee pot towards the mug but then studied and hesitated and put the coffee pot back down on the counter. Finally he seemed to notice the mug sitting there, made the connection, and poured the coffee into the mug. "That easy, huh!" he mumbled.
Next he knew that he needed to add milk. He got the gallon milk container out of the refrigerator, took off the lid, and went through the "tipping" routine again. Another five minutes worth of tipping, studying whether to pour it on the counter or not.
Then he began returning to the refrigerator, milk bottle in hand, and tried to pour milk into the refrigerator on the shelf where it is stored. Over and over. He returned to the counter and added trying to pour the milk onto the bottle cap. He didn't actually pour it on the counter or bottle cap but repeated the motions over and over asking, "Is this right? Is this how you do it? What is wrong here?" Approximately five minutes of attempted milk pouring.
He kept seeking my approval and I kept saying something like, "I am observing to see what you will do." Eventually I suggested, "You want to pour the milk into the mug." He responded as though he understood what I said but repeated the counter and bottle cap routine several more times. He kept looking to me for help and I kept saying, "I am here with you."
He began rehearsing pouring the milk into the mug. He did this three or four times and finally poured the milk into the mug. He was pleased. "Strange isn't it?" was his observation.
"Yes," I answered.
On the way to collect his cookies from the cabinet he told me, "I love you."
"That was never in question," I responded as I often do, "I love you too."
He hugged my head and said again, "I love you."
"Me too," I replied. After assembling his cookies, he correctly put the mug in the microwave for one minute, and was back on target.
It is very painful for me, but every now and then I have to just wait it out and only get involved if he gets too overwhelmed. This time he was in a problem solving mode the entire time. By watching and letting him try to figure it out, perhaps, if he doesn't get too upset, my not helping allows him to keep his self confidence. It allows me to carefully observe so I can try to figure out what is happening.
While I am writing this, he is enjoying his coffee and cookies. Wonder if the skill will be back tomorrow. If it isn't, I will intervene right away and verbalize what I am doing. Maybe that will help. I keep trying.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
The Getting Dressed Incident
We now have two companions who spend time with Gregory and that does make it easier for me to have some time to myself and to get away to meetings etc. Companions present their own problems and more work with scheduling, training, solving minor issues via text or phone, having a stranger in your home, trusting someone else to do the job that in your heart you feel only you can do but learning to "get over it."
Living with him continues to be difficult as I continue to try to learn how (after 35 years, can you imagine?)
Yesterday we were getting ready to go to a party and I thought I solved his "Getting Dressed Dilemma" problem by picking out what he would wear and laying it out on the bed (in the order one would put the clothes on.) My fatal mistake was not taking the blue jeans and shirt he was wearing from him when he took them off.
He got "Shirt Confused" and "Pants Frustrated." After taking his current clothes off, he put his new shirt and his black jeans on. Tried to put his blue jeans on over the black ones several times. (I just waited.) Then he took off his shirt. Tried the blue/black combination again bear chested but that didn't help. I finally had to help walk him through the "Clothing Sequence" and then we entered the "Black Sox and Shoes Zone."
I won't go into further detail but we finally did get dressed, left for the party, at which he and I had a great time. This morning he did his own "Thin Thin" (our version of toast) and is now reading the New York Times (a new "Technology" since his computer skills are all but gone," waiting while I have a cup of coffee, do e-mail and begin our "Sunday Oatmeal Ritual."
Living with him continues to be difficult as I continue to try to learn how (after 35 years, can you imagine?)
Yesterday we were getting ready to go to a party and I thought I solved his "Getting Dressed Dilemma" problem by picking out what he would wear and laying it out on the bed (in the order one would put the clothes on.) My fatal mistake was not taking the blue jeans and shirt he was wearing from him when he took them off.
He got "Shirt Confused" and "Pants Frustrated." After taking his current clothes off, he put his new shirt and his black jeans on. Tried to put his blue jeans on over the black ones several times. (I just waited.) Then he took off his shirt. Tried the blue/black combination again bear chested but that didn't help. I finally had to help walk him through the "Clothing Sequence" and then we entered the "Black Sox and Shoes Zone."
I won't go into further detail but we finally did get dressed, left for the party, at which he and I had a great time. This morning he did his own "Thin Thin" (our version of toast) and is now reading the New York Times (a new "Technology" since his computer skills are all but gone," waiting while I have a cup of coffee, do e-mail and begin our "Sunday Oatmeal Ritual."
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Meal Time
For a while I was worried about preparing dinner time meals for Gregory. Dinners usually consist of a fish/chicken/meat course, one or two vegetables, potato, salad, and sometimes bread. There are condiments and spices, butter, salad dressing, salt & pepper, etc to be added table side.
I began to notice that Gregory was having trouble figuring out what to do with everything I placed in front of him and it was taking a long time before he could actually begin eating. I would hint and point and this helped sometimes but was aggravating for both of us.
I was afraid that I was going to have to simplify our meals and even had nightmares in which I served one course at a time and we didn't finish with dinner until breakfast time. Another possibility was one dish meals and I hated that idea.
Finally I came up with a solution and it seems to be working for now. I do all the dressing, seasoning, buttering, etc before we begin eating. This evening when I put the plate in front of him the beets were sliced, the green beans buttered and seasoned, the salad dressed, the bread sliced. That's all he had to do was eat the meatloaf.
He still has trouble deciding which utensil to use, fork-spoon-knife all seem to become one. Always having been neat at table, thanks to his mom Helen's training, I find that he uses his fingers more often but still appropriately.
For now, problem solved. This seems to be the way with us. Old solutions die causing new problem to arise which lead to improved ways of dealing with most situations. Hope this continues for a long time to come so I do not have to think about what the future might hold.
I began to notice that Gregory was having trouble figuring out what to do with everything I placed in front of him and it was taking a long time before he could actually begin eating. I would hint and point and this helped sometimes but was aggravating for both of us.
I was afraid that I was going to have to simplify our meals and even had nightmares in which I served one course at a time and we didn't finish with dinner until breakfast time. Another possibility was one dish meals and I hated that idea.
Finally I came up with a solution and it seems to be working for now. I do all the dressing, seasoning, buttering, etc before we begin eating. This evening when I put the plate in front of him the beets were sliced, the green beans buttered and seasoned, the salad dressed, the bread sliced. That's all he had to do was eat the meatloaf.
He still has trouble deciding which utensil to use, fork-spoon-knife all seem to become one. Always having been neat at table, thanks to his mom Helen's training, I find that he uses his fingers more often but still appropriately.
For now, problem solved. This seems to be the way with us. Old solutions die causing new problem to arise which lead to improved ways of dealing with most situations. Hope this continues for a long time to come so I do not have to think about what the future might hold.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Valentine's Day
Ouch. This one was hard. You know how some people say, "If you have to be reminded it doesn't count?" Well I have decided that it does count. For Valentine's Day I bought Gregory a beautiful satin heart filled with Godiva chocolates. I didn't want him to feel badly that I remembered him for Valentine's Day and that he didn't remember me. Also I wanted to be remembered so I began to remind him a week early. "You have seven days to get me something for Valentine's Day." 6 ... 5 ... 4 ... 3... etc.
Today, he went out for his usual afternoon walk and without my reminding he stopped at the Barnes and Nobel and bought me a Valentine's Day Card (at least I think that is what he got, I will not know for sure until Monday.) I suggested he sign it and we could put it on the counter until Monday. He did not know what I meant. "It has been such a long time since I got anyone a card!" Then he got overwhelmed and began crying at not knowing what to do. While he sat on the bench, I held his head in my arms and we rocked together. When he calmed down we set about accomplishing this difficult adventure together.
He kept trying to take the card out of its bag but I explained, "I don't want to see it until Valentine's Day." I explained that one puts the name of the person on the envelope and writes a message inside the card. Based on the look on his face, I was not sure if he knew any of the words or concepts. I waited patiently while he did some heavy thinking, "I think I just want what's written inside." Maybe he did understand what I had said.
That was good enough for me so I sat him down at my computer desk, gave him a red pen, reached into the bag without looking (saying "I'm not looking.") and gave him the envelope on which to write my name.
"This is going to be hard," he said so I took a post-it note and wrote my name on it. With some coaching he was 80% able to copy my name from the post-it onto the envelope. Next I opened the card (still not looking but with a little peeking so I could see where he should sign his name and pointed. This time I wrote his name on a post-it so he could copy. It was more difficult for him copying his own name.
Finally we were finished, he sealed the envelope (with my prompting) and we put it on the counter with my gift for him to wait until Monday. We will go out for dinner and then after watching a movie at home I am making Fudge Brownie Volcanoes (the kind you warm up in the microwave so the center fudge melts and runs on cutting) with Ice Cream. It will be good.
Today, he went out for his usual afternoon walk and without my reminding he stopped at the Barnes and Nobel and bought me a Valentine's Day Card (at least I think that is what he got, I will not know for sure until Monday.) I suggested he sign it and we could put it on the counter until Monday. He did not know what I meant. "It has been such a long time since I got anyone a card!" Then he got overwhelmed and began crying at not knowing what to do. While he sat on the bench, I held his head in my arms and we rocked together. When he calmed down we set about accomplishing this difficult adventure together.
He kept trying to take the card out of its bag but I explained, "I don't want to see it until Valentine's Day." I explained that one puts the name of the person on the envelope and writes a message inside the card. Based on the look on his face, I was not sure if he knew any of the words or concepts. I waited patiently while he did some heavy thinking, "I think I just want what's written inside." Maybe he did understand what I had said.
That was good enough for me so I sat him down at my computer desk, gave him a red pen, reached into the bag without looking (saying "I'm not looking.") and gave him the envelope on which to write my name.
"This is going to be hard," he said so I took a post-it note and wrote my name on it. With some coaching he was 80% able to copy my name from the post-it onto the envelope. Next I opened the card (still not looking but with a little peeking so I could see where he should sign his name and pointed. This time I wrote his name on a post-it so he could copy. It was more difficult for him copying his own name.
Finally we were finished, he sealed the envelope (with my prompting) and we put it on the counter with my gift for him to wait until Monday. We will go out for dinner and then after watching a movie at home I am making Fudge Brownie Volcanoes (the kind you warm up in the microwave so the center fudge melts and runs on cutting) with Ice Cream. It will be good.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Reality Test
Most often I try to anticipate Gregory's needs, especially as his language and communication abilities continue to disintegrate. Most often I am able to figure out what he wants to say or tell me. As I have written before, its those times that I cannot anticipate or guess that make for difficult interactions and therefore are emotionally heavy situations for both Gregory and me.
Another area of difficulty is Gregory's ability to make connections and associations. I will ask him to get me a new kitchen towel and he will not recognize word "towel." This has been happening more and more as his grasp of the meaning of any particular word continues to fail.
For example, as he is trying to ask me about where his gloves are, he will wiggle his hands but when I ask, "Are you looking for your gloves?" he will reply, "No." Even though it is his gloves he is looking for. Is it the disconnect of the word "No" or the word "Gloves." Sometimes that is clear to me and other times it is not.
Most difficult of all is when I feel that I have to "wait it out" and not help at all. Sometimes I feel the need to do a reality test to see exactly how much Gregory is going to be able to do. Last night I asked him, as I usually do, to set the table for dinner. He got the place mats and napkins done but forgot the silverware. He moved on to fill the water glasses.
He usually stands in front of the open refrigerator thinking about "what's missing." Then he will realize and shut the refrigerator, go to the cabinet, get out two glasses, and put them on the counter. Sometimes I will just say the word "glasses" and he will click in and proceed.
This time he stood in front of the open refrigerator for a long time. He looked over at where the empty glasses usually sit while waiting to be filled but it didn't help this time. Then he closed the refrigerator and opened the freezer. He pulled out the ice drawer and scooped out a handful of ice, turned towards the usual "where the glasses are waiting place" and stood, confused, hands cold with ice, not knowing what to do.
He looked at me several times and I soothingly replied, "I'm just being patient." Sometimes I will say, "I am just giving you space." This is to let him know that I am not upset or angry that he is confused.
Next he returned the ice to the drawer, closed it, and closed the freezer. He turned to me and said, "OK I give." I went to the cabinet hand handed him two glasses. He successfully took over from there. But what an ordeal. And watching the look on his face as he becomes increasingly confused (sometimes embarrassed, sometimes angry, sometimes just confused) is very painful for me.
Reality checks are no fun for me to suffer quietly and probably not easy for Gregory, but they are necessary so I can keep tabs on what he can do and what he cannot do with greater or lesser frequency. When it looks like the skill is really gone, I will not ask him to help with the skill or I will give a lot more support up front. For example, I am about to start handing him two glasses every time I ask him to get our dinner waters. Soon I'll have to put out the place mats, napkins, and silverware and hope he can figure out where it goes. Time will AND DOES tell!
Another area of difficulty is Gregory's ability to make connections and associations. I will ask him to get me a new kitchen towel and he will not recognize word "towel." This has been happening more and more as his grasp of the meaning of any particular word continues to fail.
For example, as he is trying to ask me about where his gloves are, he will wiggle his hands but when I ask, "Are you looking for your gloves?" he will reply, "No." Even though it is his gloves he is looking for. Is it the disconnect of the word "No" or the word "Gloves." Sometimes that is clear to me and other times it is not.
Most difficult of all is when I feel that I have to "wait it out" and not help at all. Sometimes I feel the need to do a reality test to see exactly how much Gregory is going to be able to do. Last night I asked him, as I usually do, to set the table for dinner. He got the place mats and napkins done but forgot the silverware. He moved on to fill the water glasses.
He usually stands in front of the open refrigerator thinking about "what's missing." Then he will realize and shut the refrigerator, go to the cabinet, get out two glasses, and put them on the counter. Sometimes I will just say the word "glasses" and he will click in and proceed.
This time he stood in front of the open refrigerator for a long time. He looked over at where the empty glasses usually sit while waiting to be filled but it didn't help this time. Then he closed the refrigerator and opened the freezer. He pulled out the ice drawer and scooped out a handful of ice, turned towards the usual "where the glasses are waiting place" and stood, confused, hands cold with ice, not knowing what to do.
He looked at me several times and I soothingly replied, "I'm just being patient." Sometimes I will say, "I am just giving you space." This is to let him know that I am not upset or angry that he is confused.
Next he returned the ice to the drawer, closed it, and closed the freezer. He turned to me and said, "OK I give." I went to the cabinet hand handed him two glasses. He successfully took over from there. But what an ordeal. And watching the look on his face as he becomes increasingly confused (sometimes embarrassed, sometimes angry, sometimes just confused) is very painful for me.
Reality checks are no fun for me to suffer quietly and probably not easy for Gregory, but they are necessary so I can keep tabs on what he can do and what he cannot do with greater or lesser frequency. When it looks like the skill is really gone, I will not ask him to help with the skill or I will give a lot more support up front. For example, I am about to start handing him two glasses every time I ask him to get our dinner waters. Soon I'll have to put out the place mats, napkins, and silverware and hope he can figure out where it goes. Time will AND DOES tell!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Write Don't Talk! Or At Least Speak Plainly and Simply
These are a few wonderful tips from an article in the Blue Cross Blue Shield newsletter. We rely on speech so strongly that when a person with Alzheimer's is unable to use language times get rough. A suggestions for people with advanced dementia is to write a simple, brief note using large letters to communicate. Have the person read the note and see the response.
Also creating a "Memory Book" with pictures of family helps to unlock stored memories that a person with Alzheimer's just can't get out in a chat. It's not that the person has forgotten, they just need help with remembering. Creating a book with commonly needed objects or activities is another way to communicate.
Neither of these techniques are necessary yet with us but they are good to keep in mind. With Gregory, I have found that simple sentences, spoken slowly (but not insultingly,) after I have Gregory's attention usually do the job. One or two ideas at a time is the most he can handle when I ask him to do something.
I have made signs to help him remember including: 1) by the table near the front door where we keep our pocket stuff - FOR YOUR POCKET - wallet, keys, cell phone, Chapstick, etc. 2) On a shelf in the closet by the front door is a list: COAT, SCARF, GLOVES, EARMUFFS? 3) On the inside of one of the kitchen cabinets is a sign with a column for each day of the week and pictures of what to have for breakfast on each day. This helps Gregory alternate cereals, sausage or fish, toast or muffin. Sometimes I will write a simple note on a POST-IT and hang it on his bathroom mirror, paste it to this bedside table, or stick it to his breakfast tray.
Today these techniques work, tomorrow they may not so we will develop new ones. One day at a time!!!
Also creating a "Memory Book" with pictures of family helps to unlock stored memories that a person with Alzheimer's just can't get out in a chat. It's not that the person has forgotten, they just need help with remembering. Creating a book with commonly needed objects or activities is another way to communicate.
Neither of these techniques are necessary yet with us but they are good to keep in mind. With Gregory, I have found that simple sentences, spoken slowly (but not insultingly,) after I have Gregory's attention usually do the job. One or two ideas at a time is the most he can handle when I ask him to do something.
I have made signs to help him remember including: 1) by the table near the front door where we keep our pocket stuff - FOR YOUR POCKET - wallet, keys, cell phone, Chapstick, etc. 2) On a shelf in the closet by the front door is a list: COAT, SCARF, GLOVES, EARMUFFS? 3) On the inside of one of the kitchen cabinets is a sign with a column for each day of the week and pictures of what to have for breakfast on each day. This helps Gregory alternate cereals, sausage or fish, toast or muffin. Sometimes I will write a simple note on a POST-IT and hang it on his bathroom mirror, paste it to this bedside table, or stick it to his breakfast tray.
Today these techniques work, tomorrow they may not so we will develop new ones. One day at a time!!!
Friday, January 14, 2011
Helpful Hints
I purchased a "Day-At-A-Glance" calendar for Gregory. He has lost track of time, of the day, of the month, maybe of the year. But he still can follow habits and one of them is ripping off a sheet from the calendar each morning. Sometimes during the day he will ask me the date or the day. I will respond, "What does your calendar say?" He will go look and answer his own question. In the beginning he got a little confused on Saturdays and Sundays because on the "Day-At-A-Glance" those two days share a sheet. I labeled those sheets more obviously and he seemed to learn the difference.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Shopping for Clothes
Not an easy task. At least not as easy as it used to be. Gregory and I were on a walk and when we saw the 45% off sale at our local GAP, spontaneously decided to go in to see about a few pair of jeans and some shirts for him. G couldn't remember what jeans he had at home, if he needed more, which style he might want, which color blue or black, classic, boot, tight, loose? Too many decisions.
So I decided that you can never have enough jeans and we would buy a few pair. Meanwhile I was in charge of remembering what size G wears in waist and length. He remembered that he prefers solid jeans and not the washed out/faded type. He tried a pair on, good in length but too baggy in waist. The clerk offered to get a size smaller.
The store didn't have a size smaller so she brought jeans that were two sizes smaller. While it seemed to fit, two sizes smaller made me nervous so I had to make an executive call and say "NO." Hard to tell from looking if the pants fit, if he understood my questioning, or if he will let me know in a few weeks that the pants are uncomfortable. He sat, twisted, and put his hands in the pocket but was not able to convince me that the pants were a good fit. So no jeans.
We did buy three flannel shirts, I was convinced that they fit well because they were not too loose and not too tight and his arms didn't poke out like sticks (he is tall remember.) He didn't have to make any decisions but did confirm that he liked the colors.
As we were leaving the store, paid goods in a shopping bag in hand, I realized he didn't have his coat. We checked the dressing room and it was no where to be found. The clerks helped us search and found the coat on a pile of "return clothes" behind the counter where he had left it while I was paying the bill. Relief. The clerks in the store know our situation so we are comfortable in acting overtly gay, overtly lovers, and overtly "mother and child."
Next stop, new shoes. Oy!
So I decided that you can never have enough jeans and we would buy a few pair. Meanwhile I was in charge of remembering what size G wears in waist and length. He remembered that he prefers solid jeans and not the washed out/faded type. He tried a pair on, good in length but too baggy in waist. The clerk offered to get a size smaller.
The store didn't have a size smaller so she brought jeans that were two sizes smaller. While it seemed to fit, two sizes smaller made me nervous so I had to make an executive call and say "NO." Hard to tell from looking if the pants fit, if he understood my questioning, or if he will let me know in a few weeks that the pants are uncomfortable. He sat, twisted, and put his hands in the pocket but was not able to convince me that the pants were a good fit. So no jeans.
We did buy three flannel shirts, I was convinced that they fit well because they were not too loose and not too tight and his arms didn't poke out like sticks (he is tall remember.) He didn't have to make any decisions but did confirm that he liked the colors.
As we were leaving the store, paid goods in a shopping bag in hand, I realized he didn't have his coat. We checked the dressing room and it was no where to be found. The clerks helped us search and found the coat on a pile of "return clothes" behind the counter where he had left it while I was paying the bill. Relief. The clerks in the store know our situation so we are comfortable in acting overtly gay, overtly lovers, and overtly "mother and child."
Next stop, new shoes. Oy!
Friday, October 15, 2010
Connections
One of the things that continues to disintegrate (read lose integration) is Gregory's ability to make connections. It was time for his evening coffee. He filled a coffee mug with coffee from this morning and put it down next to the coffee maker. He went to the refrigerator, took out the milk, and put it down on the opposite counter.
First he just stared at the milk as if trying to remember what he was doing, or how to do it. He looked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. I sat quietly and tried to become invisible so as not to distract him. This went on for about 30 seconds which in real time isn't so long … but in Alzheimer's time seems forever. Try sitting there doing nothing for 30 seconds and see how it feels.
He next began to return the milk to the refrigerator, stopped mid-move, and put it back down on the counter. FInally, after about 15 second more, he turned to me and said, "Can you help me?"
I pointed towards the mug and said, "You need to put some milk in the coffee." Didn't register. "Open the milk." Success. "Take it over to your mug (pointing.)" Success. "Pour some milk into the mug." Success. Then the connections returned. He put the mug in the microwave, closed the door, pressed "1 minute," and waited until the signal sounded. He took the mug out of the microwave and thanked me. Success.
Other times he forgets how to pour the coffee into the mug, where to warm it up, how to run the microwave. What is amazing is that I felt no negative emotions. I was able to help him in a neutral way, didn't get upset, didn't consider him "stupid" for not remembering, didn't raise my voice, didn't dwell on what the future holds. I guess I am getting better at this.
First he just stared at the milk as if trying to remember what he was doing, or how to do it. He looked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. I sat quietly and tried to become invisible so as not to distract him. This went on for about 30 seconds which in real time isn't so long … but in Alzheimer's time seems forever. Try sitting there doing nothing for 30 seconds and see how it feels.
He next began to return the milk to the refrigerator, stopped mid-move, and put it back down on the counter. FInally, after about 15 second more, he turned to me and said, "Can you help me?"
I pointed towards the mug and said, "You need to put some milk in the coffee." Didn't register. "Open the milk." Success. "Take it over to your mug (pointing.)" Success. "Pour some milk into the mug." Success. Then the connections returned. He put the mug in the microwave, closed the door, pressed "1 minute," and waited until the signal sounded. He took the mug out of the microwave and thanked me. Success.
Other times he forgets how to pour the coffee into the mug, where to warm it up, how to run the microwave. What is amazing is that I felt no negative emotions. I was able to help him in a neutral way, didn't get upset, didn't consider him "stupid" for not remembering, didn't raise my voice, didn't dwell on what the future holds. I guess I am getting better at this.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Friday, October 1, 2010
An Observation
Yesterday, I drove to The Lyric Opera of Chicago for a Carmen rehearsal. I spent my time in the car on the phone with my good friend John H. We talked about many things and when the topic of our conversation turned to Gregory, John made an excellent observation about why Gregory may be able to deal so successfully with having Alzheimer's Disease.
For the most part Gregory continues to deal successfully with the slow loss of his mental abilities. The other day he mentioned that he missed playing the piano but was grateful for all the wonderful music we could listen to on our audio system. He gets a little frustrated when he cannot pull the words he needs to express an idea or ask a question but only a little. When asked how he is doing with the Alzheimer's, he will respond, "It is what it is."
John observed that Gregory has always been a problem solver. He does not get emotionally involved with the negativity or seeming impossibility of problems but instead always works optimistically, one piece at a time, not panicking, knowing that the difficult situation will be resolved.
He has always had confidence in himself and his ability to help himself, his loved ones, (and clients when the firm was still open) work through problems. Rather than spending any time placing blame or rehashing exactly why something has happened, he puts his energies and focus into doing what needs to be done to move forward towards a solution.
Perhaps his brain is on auto-pilot when it comes to dealing with his own difficulties and losses for he continues to enjoy his days, love the people around him, and do the best he can do with "what is."
For the most part Gregory continues to deal successfully with the slow loss of his mental abilities. The other day he mentioned that he missed playing the piano but was grateful for all the wonderful music we could listen to on our audio system. He gets a little frustrated when he cannot pull the words he needs to express an idea or ask a question but only a little. When asked how he is doing with the Alzheimer's, he will respond, "It is what it is."
John observed that Gregory has always been a problem solver. He does not get emotionally involved with the negativity or seeming impossibility of problems but instead always works optimistically, one piece at a time, not panicking, knowing that the difficult situation will be resolved.
He has always had confidence in himself and his ability to help himself, his loved ones, (and clients when the firm was still open) work through problems. Rather than spending any time placing blame or rehashing exactly why something has happened, he puts his energies and focus into doing what needs to be done to move forward towards a solution.
Perhaps his brain is on auto-pilot when it comes to dealing with his own difficulties and losses for he continues to enjoy his days, love the people around him, and do the best he can do with "what is."
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