{"id":5894,"date":"2020-01-22T13:54:46","date_gmt":"2020-01-22T18:54:46","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.silvercentury.org\/?p=5894"},"modified":"2020-01-22T13:54:46","modified_gmt":"2020-01-22T18:54:46","slug":"when-giving-in-is-the-best-gift","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/2020\/01\/when-giving-in-is-the-best-gift\/","title":{"rendered":"When Giving In Is the Best Gift"},"content":{"rendered":"

Bill told his Alzheimer\u2019s caregivers support group, \u201cMy wife asked, \u2018When are we going to see the grandchildren? We haven\u2019t seen them in months!\u2019 When I told her they were just here yesterday, she got mad at me. \u2018They were not!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI even got out my phone and showed her pictures we took, but she dug her heels in and said that was last year. She was so mad, she refused to talk to me for the rest of the day.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Tips for communicating with people with Alzheimer\u2019s always include:<\/span> avoid arguing<\/span>.<\/span><\/i> But they never include how to do that.<\/span><\/p>\n

It is striking how hard it is for most caregivers to break out of old patterns of relating to their loved one. It\u2019s not because they are uncaring or unwilling but because those patterns have been in place for decades\u2014sometimes a lifetime.<\/span><\/p>\n

And there the caregivers are, confronted with changes in the person\u2019s behavior that were previously unimaginable and that catch them off guard. It takes a long time to internalize the reality of cognitive impairment, and family members are sucked into arguments in response to all kinds of new predicaments.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sally is under a lot of strain. Her husband, Frank, has Alzheimer\u2019s disease and can no longer do his accustomed jobs around the house. In fact, he\u2019s driving Sally crazy by doing nothing but sitting in his favorite chair all day.<\/span><\/p>\n

So when Frank looks out at the freshly cut grass and says, \u201cI did a good job on the lawn, didn\u2019t I?,\u201d Sally explodes. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span>You?<\/span><\/i> You didn\u2019t cut it. <\/span>I<\/span><\/i> did!\u201d She knows better, but the wounding truth slips out before she can stop it. And the fight is on.<\/span><\/p>\n

Exasperation can lead to outbursts such as, \u201cWhy did you \u2026,\u201d or \u201cCouldn\u2019t you see \u2026,\u201d which put the person on the spot and provoke defensiveness. No one does it intentionally; it just escapes, out of surprise and frustration, as when Margo says to her mother, \u201cWhat were you <\/span>thinking<\/span><\/i> when you parked the car downtown and took a cab home?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The universal impulse is to try to make the person with dementia see reason. After all, we rely on that in our other interactions every day. <\/span><\/p>\n

Nora\u2019s father insists on wearing his bathrobe wherever he goes. She tries to talk him into putting on a sweater instead. No luck. When he wants to wear the robe to church, she tries telling him the priest will be horrified. He doesn\u2019t care. She tries hiding the robe, but then he refuses to go anywhere, until the robe magically reappears. Nora\u2019s father has his own reasons.<\/span><\/p>\n

As does Eve. She treasures an amethyst ring that belonged to her grandmother, and she often hides it to keep it safe. Then she forgets where she hid it and panics. That signals her husband, Joe, to get busy and find it. As often as not, it turns up in the wastebasket.<\/span><\/p>\n

Joe, exasperated, says, \u201cEve, if I\u2019ve told you once, I\u2019ve told you a thousand times, if you put your ring in the garbage, it\u2019s going to get thrown out!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Eve defends herself: \u201cI didn\u2019t put it there. You did!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Arguments erupt over resistance, errors, conflicting realities and more. But they never turn out well. In fact, there is a maxim in the Alzheimer\u2019s community: <\/span>If you argue with someone with Alzheimer\u2019s, you get what you deserve.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Caregivers are better able to weather it and accept it when they understand what\u2019s behind behavior that seems stubborn, selfish or senseless.<\/span><\/p>\n

Bill\u2019s wife couldn\u2019t remember her grandchildren\u2019s visit the day before, but it had left an impression that brought them to mind. Once they were on her mind, she wanted to see them.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sally\u2019s husband\u2019s dementia has made him lose empathy and a realistic perception of the world around him. He can see that the grass was cut. He knows that\u2019s his job, so he must have done it. Efforts to make him appreciate all that Sally does for him demand the impossible and make him defensive.<\/span><\/p>\n

Clearly the bathrobe provided some security for Nora\u2019s father as did the ring for Eve.<\/span><\/p>\n

Understanding the behavior is only half the gift you can give the person with dementia. The other half is how you respond.<\/span><\/p>\n

When it comes to arguing with someone who has cognitive impairment, there is an alternative. It takes objectivity, some detachment and loving kindness. And it\u2019s simple.<\/span><\/p>\n

Let the other person be right.<\/span><\/p>\n

You don\u2019t have to believe it. Just say it. And watch what happens.<\/span><\/p>\n

Don\u2019t say, \u201cThe kids were here just yesterday.\u201d Say, \u201cYou\u2019re right. I miss the grandchildren too. Let\u2019s invite them over next weekend.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Don\u2019t say, \u201c<\/span>You<\/span><\/i> didn\u2019t cut the grass.\u201d Say, \u201cYou\u2019re right. It looks great. Good job!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Don\u2019t say, \u201cWhy on earth did you abandon the car downtown?\u201d Say, \u201cYou were clever to think of getting a cab.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Say, \u201cI\u2019m glad you have that robe. It seems to mean a lot to you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Say, \u201cI\u2019m glad we found your ring again.\u201d Don\u2019t count on teaching her not to put it in the wastebasket. Teach yourself to always check the basket before emptying it.<\/span><\/p>\n

I know all this may sound like training for sainthood, but it saves so much wear and tear on you <\/span>and <\/span><\/i>your partner.<\/span><\/p>\n

Some caregivers may question whether saying \u201cYou\u2019re right\u201d in circumstances like these constitutes lying. In my blog, <\/span>\u201cAt the Heart of Dementia: A Challenge to Truth,\u201d<\/span><\/a> I came out firmly on the side of truthfulness in almost all cases. There is an imbalance of power in the caregiving relationship, and lying to people takes even more power away from them. Furthermore, deception undermines trust and demeans those who are lied to.<\/span><\/p>\n

The issues I talked about in that blog were matters of consequence in which the person deserves to know the truth.<\/span><\/p>\n

But when you allow people with cognitive impairment to be right in situations of lesser consequence, when they can no longer access reality, going along with it is a loving deception. You are <\/span>returning<\/span><\/i> power to them. You are <\/span>preserving<\/span><\/i> their trust in you by becoming their ally and <\/span>protecting<\/span><\/i> their self-worth. <\/span><\/p>\n

That is the gift you give when you give in instead of arguing.<\/span><\/p>\n

Power, trust and a sense of self-worth: to salvage these in the slowly deteriorating world of someone living with dementia is a precious gift indeed.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Bill told his Alzheimer\u2019s caregivers support group, \u201cMy wife asked, \u2018When are we going to see the grandchildren? We haven\u2019t seen them in months!\u2019 When I told her they were just here yesterday, she got mad at me. \u2018They were…<\/span><\/p>\n

Read more When Giving In Is the Best Gift<\/span> ›<\/span><\/a><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":5895,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"_FSMCFIC_featured_image_caption":"","_FSMCFIC_featured_image_nocaption":null,"_FSMCFIC_featured_image_hide":null,"footnotes":""},"categories":[79,1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5894","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-blog","category-voices-views"],"cc_featured_image_caption":{"caption_text":"","source_text":"","source_url":""},"wps_subtitle":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5894","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/7"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5894"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5894\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5896,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5894\/revisions\/5896"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5895"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5894"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5894"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5894"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}