Persistence And Patience

To be a successful care giver to a person with Alzheimer's Disease, a huge challenge is learning how to read what the person is trying to communicate to you. For what the person says and what the person means is not always in line with one and other.

As an example, just a little while ago, I was sitting in the chair reading, while Mom was laying on the couch, "watching" a movie on Turner Classic and Dad was outside taking a walk. All was quite, until I heard Mom moan, and begin to struggle to try and get up.

"Do you want to get up now, Mom?" I asked.

"Yes."

She grimaced, then she said, "My arm hurts!"

I told her we'd ask Dad if it was okay to give her a Tylenol for the pain when he came back from his walk (she likes to have his approval for this, and I figure it's okay to wait), and I helped her out of the couch. I asked her where she wanted to go, and she decided on the other couch. We decided to sit up in the other couch, instead of laying down. The movie was still on, I settled back into the chair to continue reading, and I told her to keep watching the movie.

She moaned. I asked her if she wanted to continue watching the movie, and she said that she did, but she wanted to watch the other movie, too. She continued to ramble, words coming out that made no sense, and as she went on, she began to get frustrated, and started to weep a little.

So, this is where I had to ask more questions, to find out what she really wanted. Do you want to watch the movie? ("Yes.") Are you comfortable? ("Yes.") Does your arm still hurt? ("Not too bad.") Then she tried to communicate some more, and again, the words made no sense. This is when I said to her something like, "I understand you're trying to tell me something, and you are having a hard time expressing what you really mean. Try not to get frustrated, Mom, let's work this out together."

Finally, it dawned on me what she wanted me to do.

"Do you want me to read to you some more?"

"Yes! I want you to read to me!"

Persistence and patience paid off. I turned off the television, and picked up where I had left off earlier in the day in the book "Little Women," by Louisa May Alcott.

Other times, short-term memory works in your favor. At lunch today, I prepared them both little sandwiches with little sides of fruit, chips and cherry tomatoes. They sat to eat, I did the dishes, then joined them at the table. Mom ate fairly well, for her, then she began to push her plate away, fussing. I asked her to finish chewing before she rose, but no, she wouldn't have it, and she began to say something like, "Don't be like THEM! Let me go!" Agitation rose again.

So, "No problem, let's get up" and we helped her rise. While she was still gaining her balance, I asked her if she'd like to wash down her mouthful of food with her drink. "Yes." She drank. Still standing, I offered her a grape. She ate it. Then a chip. Then she wanted to sit, only at her chair. I helped her to her chair, then brought the plate of food over. I was able to feed her a few more bites of everything with her sitting in her chair. Persistence and patience paid off again.

I noticed Brian, the physical therapist, used the same techniques with her today during his visit. He worked her through a "vigorous" routine, and at times she'd complain, saying she couldn't do it, wanted to stop. Then he'd persist, "Just one more." "You can do, you're stronger than you think." "Great job!" And she'd finish the exercise. Persistence and patience.

Sometimes, you just have to let the person stumble out the words, even if they make no sense, and try and feel the emotion behind the words. If you have any sense of intuition in you at all, you'll get the notion of what the person is trying to say. It could almost be likened to trying to communicate with a person who speaks another language. You listen to the emotion, you read the facial expressions, the hand gestures, read the tone of voice. You apply that to the situation that you are in at that moment. You search and reach and try to find the true meaning behind the words. This requires persistence and patience.

In the end, though, when you do realize what the person is trying to communicate, there is such a great sense of relief and accomplishment. And nothing feels better than letting the person know that you can understand what the person is trying to tell you. The stress is momentarily relieved, and the person suffering with this horrible disease does not feel so misunderstood. For that one moment, the person can feel normal again. That feeling is such a gift for both of you.