Dementia

I realize dementia is a devastating disease. I never mean to make light of that fact. Yet, I love working with those with dementia. They make me laugh, make me think, make me cry. I just love them and have no expectations of them ... those would have to change daily, as the sufferers do. I see them as very real, telling exactly what's on their minds. I love that.

I get to deal with dementia patients at my practicum. I used to work with them as a CNA for years, so it's fun to work with them as a Social Services Representative. One recent experience involved a woman recently admitted to the facility. She was confused about where she was. She wondered, out loud to me, why we didn't have a bracelet for her like they did at the hospital. I looked around the facility and found nothing even close to it. But I wanted her to realize where she was whenever she wanted to. I found a business card with the facility name on it and taped it to her "lap buddy" on her wheelchair. I left to do other business. At lunch time, I went to check on her and see how she liked her reminder. She had taken it off her lap buddy and was calmly using it as a toothpick. I loved it.

Another day I was down on the psych unit of the facility and one of the women was standing in her doorway, watching people walk by. The gerontologist and I stopped to say hello to her.

Gerontologist: Hi, Anne. How are you today?
Anne: (staring at me) Where'd you get that shirt?
Me: I don't recall. I've had it for quite some time.
Gerontologist: Yeah, you can see her coming down the hall, can't you?
Anne: (continued staring at my shirt)
Gerontologist: It's kind of psychadelic, isn't it?
Anne: (with great disgust) That's one word for it.

Isn't that awesome? I wondered how many other people hated my shirt but would never tell me. I much prefer the honesty of those without inhibition.

Chelle