dischordant:

ruby-white-rabbit:

steel-phoenix:

witch-of-the-west-country:

satr9:

nintendogamergirlexe:

prismatic-bell:

stripedsilverfeline:

drgaellon:

dementia-by-day:

“Oh yeah, every time that dad forgets mom is dead, we head to the cemetery so he can see her gravestone.”

WHAT. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard some version of this awful story. Stop taking people with dementia to the cemetery. Seriously. I cringe every single time someone tells me about their “plan” to remind a loved one that their loved one is dead.

I also hear this a lot: “I keep reminding mom that her sister is dead, and sometimes she recalls it once I’ve said it.” That’s still not a good thing. Why are we trying to force people to remember that their loved ones have passed away?

If your loved one with dementia has lost track of their timeline, and forgotten that a loved one is dead, don’t remind them. What’s the point of reintroducing that kind of pain? Here’s the thing: they will forget again, and they will ask again. You’re never, ever, ever, going to “convince” them of something permanently. 

Instead, do this:

“Dad, where do you think mom is?”

When he tells you the answer, repeat that answer to him and assert that it sounds correct. For example, if he says, “I think mom is at work,” say, “Yes, that sounds right, I think she must be at work.” If he says, “I think she passed away,” say, “Yes, she passed away.” 

People like the answer that they gave you. Also, it takes you off the hook to “come up with something” that satisfies them. Then, twenty minutes later, when they ask where mom is, repeat what they originally told you.

I support this sentiment. Repeatedly reminding someone with faulty memory that a loved one has died isn’t a kindness, it’s a cruelty. They have to relieve the loss every time, even if they don’t remember the grief 15 minutes later.

In other words, don’t try to impose your timeline on them in order to make yourself feel better. Correcting an afflicted dementia patient will not cure them. They won’t magically return to your ‘real world’. No matter how much you might want them to.

It’s a kindness of old age, forgetting. Life can be very painful. Don’t be the one ripping off the bandage every single time.

I used to work as a companion in a nursing home where one of the patients was CONVINCED I was her sister, who’d died 40 years earlier. And every time one of the nurses said “that’s not Janet, Janet is dead, Alice, remember?” Alice would start sobbing.

So finally one day Alice did the whole “JANET IS HERE” and this nurse rather nastily went “Janet is dead” and before it could go any further I said “excuse me??? How dare you say something so horrible to my sister?”

The nurse was pissed, because I was “feeding Alice’s delusions.” Alice didn’t have delusions. Alice had Alzheimer’s.

But I made sure it went into Alice’s chart that she responded positively to being allowed to believe I was Janet. And from that point forward, only my specific patient referred to me as “Nina” in front of Alice—everyone else called me Janet, and when Alice said my name wasn’t Nina I just said “oh, it’s a nickname, that’s all.” It kept her calm and happy and not sobbing every time she saw me.

It costs zero dollars (and maybe a little bit of fast thinking) to not be an asshole to someone with Alzheimer’s or dementia. Be kind.

I wish I had heard this stuff when Grandma was still here.

I read once that you have to treat dementia patients more like it’s improv, like you have to take what they say and say to yourself “ok, and” and give them more of a story to occupy them and not just shut it down with something super harsh.

A nurse I used to work with always told us: “If a man with dementia is trying to get out of bed to go to work, don’t tell him he’s 90 and in a nursing home. Tell him it’s Sunday and he can stay in bed. If a woman with dementia is trying to stand because she wants to get her husband’s dinner out of the oven, don’t tell her he’s been dead for 20 years. Tell her you’ll do it for her and she can sit back down.”

Always remembered that, always did it. Nothing worse than hearing someone with memory loss ask the same question over and over again only to be met with: “We already told you!”

Just tell them again.

I’ve worked with elderly dementia patients, and I agree with all the above. Treat them as you’d like to be treated in the same situation.

Same. I’ve worked with patients like these and even my grandma was convinced for a day that I was my aunt. Just roll with it.

I’m dealing with this right now, with my mother. And it’s a hard pill to swallow, her asking for relatives she hates because they’ve been horrible to her (both of my uncles who haven’t talked to us in years), relatives who ‘tell her to do things’ that have been gone since before I was born, her asking for my grandmother who died when I was only two who I have no recollection of.

The only time we directly correct her is when she asks where I am, while looking at me and doesn’t recognize me. And we only do that because she goes into a worse panic if I’m not there, than if she’s corrected in that I am who I say I am.

I understand why it’s not a good idea to correct a dementia patient, but speaking from the other side of the fence? It hurts.

It hurts when she asks my husband where I am, when I’m sitting plainly in her field of view, just a few feet away from her. It hurts when I have to talk about my father, or my grandfather, or our friends who have passed away. It hurts to see someone who was my superhero as I was growing up, turn into a shade of themselves.

But even if it hurts, do it. Swallow that pain down, and do it as much as you can, as long as you can. Because in the end, you do it out of kindness. And if you can’t, find some help from someone who can.

A significant other, a friend, a nurse, someone who will help, or a therapist who will give you a mental health break from having to relive painful memories again and again. It’s easier for a nurse to play along than it is a family member who has to, again and again, pretend that the family member that they loved (or worse, hated), is alive and well and has just skipped out for dinner.

For some it brings up painful memories, and for others it might even be a panic attack trigger. So if you can’t solely support your family member with dementia, try and find someone who can help. Because it’s very important to keep them comfortable, but also important to keep yourself square and mentally sound during the process.