Advocacy, Antipsychotic drugs, Life & Living

against my wishes and against her will

 

It’s one thing to see someone when they are sedated. It’s quite another to see the sedation taking effect, and the person who doesn’t wish to be sedated trying to fight it off.

Against my wishes and against her will, my mom was sedated with quetiapine at breakfast every day for almost four years. The dose she was given knocked her out cold for several hours. She got another debilitating dose in the evening. They also gave her risperidone twice each day. This drug regimen was an abuse of her human rights.

I had incontrovertible proof that non-pharmacological strategies improved the quality of Mom’s life, and, should they have been fully implemented would have eliminated the “need” to inappropriately sedate her with quetiapine and risperidone. I repeatedly voiced my concerns and shared my evidence. I was ignored, and branded a troublemaker.

It took 45 minutes to an hour for the quetiapine to take full effect. Sometimes, during that window, I would pick Mom up at her Dementia Jail and take her to my house so that when she woke up three or four hours later, we could spend some quality time together.

This is what Mom’s experience looked like during the last five minutes or so before she fell “asleep:”

https://myalzheimersstory.com/2017/12/03/four-years-later-is-too-late-for-my-mom-but-its-not-for-others/

https://myalzheimersstory.com/2016/07/26/40-side-effects-of-seroquel/

https://myalzheimersstory.com/2017/04/15/40-risperdal-side-effects-2/

Take my short survey on behaviour here.

Care Partnering, Challenges & Solutions, Resources, Toward better care

20 questions that help explain why people with dementia get agitated and physically aggressive

Note: this post has been shared thousands of times since I first published it. Also, Dr. John Morley, director of the division of geriatric medicine at Saint Louis University, one of the United States foremost authorities on geriatrics, and former editor of the Journal of America Medical Directors Association called the piece a “wonderful insight, which should be required reading for all persons who have to work with persons with Alzheimer’s disease.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Imagine this:

It’s a bitterly cold winter night. You have recently been drafted into the role of caring for your father who has dementia. You are in his house in the country, miles from the nearest town. He is a BIG man. A strong man who has farmed the land he lives on for decades. He believes he’s somewhere else. In a strange hotel with strange people. And you are one of them.

Despite the fact that he thinks he doesn’t know you, he wants you to take him home. You argue for several hours. In the end, he begins to get physically aggressive.  He tries to break a window when you block him from getting out the door. Years later you learn the situation could have been avoided. His aggression wasn’t his fault. It was yours.

I have learned through personal experience, reading and research that people living with dementia (PLWD) behave in logical, natural and understandable ways to stressful situations – just like most of the rest of us do. They react as any “normal” person would, but their behaviour is attributed to the disease rather than to whatever catalyst actually sparked it.

Many people with dementia are needlessly medicated for aggressive behaviour provoked by the environment and the people around them. Care partners need to find ways to hang up their boxing gloves instead of getting into the ring with people who live with dementia. Other dementia care pioneers share my belief that we can and should reduce, if not eliminate, the antipsychotic medication that is currently given to people with dementia to treat aggressive behaviour. It sedates PWD into compliance. I agree with dementia care experts such as Teepa Snow, Naomi Feil, Dr. Allen Power, Judy Berry, Eilon Caspi, and a growing wave of others who say that to provide compassionate care to PWD we need to see the world through their eyes.

20 questions

Here are 20 questions to ask yourself to help you understand why someone with dementia might get angry or aggressive:

  1. What would you do if you had to walk a mile in their shoes?
  2. How would you react if your children took your car keys away for no reason and told you couldn’t drive anymore?
  3. How would you react if people told you it was daytime when you knew for a fact it was the middle of the night?
  4. How would you respond if someone told you strangers would be coming to your house where you had lived alone for decades to take care of you because you couldn’t take care of yourself?
  5. What would you say if someone came and took your dog or cat away?
  6. How would you react if somebody kidnapped you from your home and took you to a prison full of sick and crazy people?
  7. What would you do if the people in the prison ordered you to sit down when you wanted to stand up? Or made you stand up when you wanted to sit down?
  8. How would you react if you wanted a drink and were told you couldn’t have one?
  9. How would you respond if you loved peace and quiet and you were surrounded by loud noises, and strangers who shouted, groaned and talked nonsense all the time?
  10. How would you react if people less than a quarter your age talked to you like you were a two-year old?
  11. What would you do if you wanted to escape, but all the doors were locked and you didn’t have a key? What would you do if you weren’t allowed out – ever?
  12. How would you react if somebody tried to force-feed you? What would you do if somebody made you swallow pills you knew would put you to sleep when you wanted to be awake?
  13. What would you do if a stranger tried to take something that belonged to you? What if they managed to get it and they wouldn’t give it back?
  14. How would you respond if someone told you weren’t allowed to go into your own room? Or open a door? Or close a drawer? Or pick something up? Or put something down? Or go outside? Or go inside? Or do whatever you wanted?
  15. What would you do if you were trapped, and you cried for help, and someone put you in a chair you couldn’t get out of and said you had to stay there?
  16. What if a stranger wanted to come to the bathroom with you? What if he tried to undress you? What if he put his hand between your legs and under your arms and under your breasts?
  17. What if you said you didn’t want to have a bath but people took your clothes off anyway and then they forced you into the bath and told you to calm down and be quiet?
  18. What if things like this happened every day? How would you feel?
  19. How would you express your feelings if you couldn’t find the words? What if you did find the words and no one listened?
  20. What would you do if you were alone and powerless? How would you react if you had no control over your own life? What if you felt incompetent, invisible and inconsequential?

What would you do?

Based on my own experience, research and training with Teepa Snow, I developed a process called “BANGS” to help myself and others avert “shoot outs” with people who live with dementia. It’s easy and it works. You can learn the steps and use it too.

Watch my free one-hour webinar on BANGS here, or see it in individual chunks at these links:

“B” is for breathe.

“A” is for assess, accept, and agree.

“N” is for never, never argue

“G” is for go with their flow, let go of your ego, get over it, get on with it, get down to it

“S” if for say you’re sorry

Download a PDF here: 20 Questions that Help Explain Dementia Aggression

https://myalzheimersstory.com/2016/12/08/5-surefire-ways-to-stop-anger-and-aggression-in-people-who-live-with-alzheimers-disease-in-the-mid-and-later-stages/

Take my short survey on behaviour here.

Advocacy, Real life, Toward better care

dire state of ltc in ontario and across canada is not news

Dementia care and elder care advocates in Canada and around the world will tell you their input with respect to improving care for seniors is largely ignored. This is one of the main reasons neglect and abuse continue in many long-term care facilities. It’s also one of the reasons thousands of older adults died during the pandemic of 2020/21. This real life example illustrates how our voices are not heard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During the week of April 26, 2021, two separate reports, both of them “scathing,” described the long-time sorry state of affairs in long-term care (LTC) in Ontario.

The content of the reports was widely covered by the media, which is kind of surprising. Because it’s not news. The media is meant to report news. And the appalling state of long-term care in Canada is not news. It’s just the way it is, and the way it has been for decades.

The fact that LTC in Canada sucks is not news. At least not to Canadian elder care and dementia care advocates such as myself, or to many family members and care partners of LTC residents in Ontario, or across our country. Nor is it news to advocates, family members and care partners in Australia, the United Kingdom, or the United States.

We’ve all known about the shortcomings, the abuse, the neglect, and the atrocities “revealed” in these reports for a long time. In fact, we’ve been screaming about them at the top of our lungs for years, in some cases for decades. We are not shocked by the findings. Not at all. It’s just more of the same ole same ole.

When I came back to Canada from overseas in 2011 to care for my mother who lived with dementia, I knew less than nothing about providing such care. It was a steep learning curve. When she was relocated to a LTC facility in Quebec in the fall of 2012, I thought she was going to a place where people would care for her. That professionals who knew what they were doing would oversee her care. That she would be respected, not neglected.

I was wrong. Within a week, I threw all those misconceptions out the window and began advocating like crazy for my mom. I was unsuccessful.

In 2013, I initiated legal action to try to get control of her care from the sibling to whom she had entrusted it. In 2014, the facility’s Director of Nursing and its on-contract physician both lied in the court proceeding. The judge ruled against me. I visited my mother every day for the next two and half years. I witnessed her continued neglect and abuse. I started a blog. My visits were restricted as punishment. I documented everything.

Anyone with any common sense who spends time with a family member in most LTC facilities in Canada will quickly realize the system is broken. You would have to be deaf and blind not to. The proof is legion.

In October 2016, two months after my mother died, and almost four years before the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, I wrote a post describing the reasons why neglect and abuse of elders with dementia may be the norm rather than the exception in long-term care facilities.

In January 2017, I spoke before a senate committee about the abuse my mother had experienced. The committee members listened, but it seems not to have made a difference. In November 2017, Quebec’s Minister of Health announced an initiative to reduce the use of antipsychotics in LTC. Too late for my mom; she had already been dead a year.

In September 2019, I submitted a twenty-page complaint to the Order of Nurses of Quebec regarding the conduct of the Director of Nursing of the facility in which my mother resided. It included an in-depth analysis of what had transpired as well as audio, video and photographic evidence that clearly showed the abuse and neglect. A year later I received a one-page whitewash in reply. I made a follow-up complaint to the Order’s Review Committee in December 2020. I haven’t received an answer to the follow-up. I have also complained to the College of Physicians and Surgeons about the physician’s conduct. No response.

In 2020, I tweaked my 2016 post slightly and re-blogged it under the title “it’s taken a pandemic and tens of thousands of deaths for people to get what long-term care advocates have known for decades: the system sucks.”

 Both of these posts outlined the same basic issues it has taken an auditor general and reams of experts months to conclude. They are:

1 ) Ageism & stigma
2 ) Lack of awareness
3 ) Poor leadership
4 ) Lack of training/understanding
5 ) Low staff-to-resident ratios
6 ) Warehouse-like environments
7 ) Dis-incentivized workers
8 ) Uncaring cultures
9 ) Ineffective “policing”
10 ) The bottom line

I mean really. C’mon.

We’re not talking rocket science here. We don’t need reports. We need ACTION.

it’s taken a pandemic and tens of thousands of deaths for people to get what long-term care advocates have known for decades: the system sucks

hidden restraints: hidden abuse

20 questions to ask yourself about “wandering”

Advocacy, Real life, Toward better care

quebec order of nurses accepts ridiculous excuses for physically restraining mom living with dementia

Dementia care and elder care advocates in Canada and around the world will tell you their input with respect to improving care for seniors is largely ignored. This is one of the main reasons neglect and abuse continue in many long-term care facilities. It’s also one of the reasons thousands of older adults have died during the pandemic of 2020/21. This real life example illustrates how our voices are not heard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Article 118.1 of the (Quebec) Law on Health Services and Social Services is clear with respect to physical and chemical restraints; it reads:

“Force, isolation, mechanical means or chemicals may not be used to place a person under control in an installation maintained by an institution except to prevent the person from inflicting harm upon himself or others. The use of such means must be minimal and resorted to only exceptionally, and must be appropriate having regard to the person’s physical and mental state.”

Nevertheless, my mother, who lived with dementia, was chemically and physically restrained in a long-term care facility for almost four years from November 2012 until she died in August 2016.

In September 2019, I lodged a complaint with the Quebec Order of Nurses regarding the facility’s Director of Nursing [XXX] who was responsible for my mother’s “care.” My eighteen-page complaint is comprehensive, evidence-based, and well-documented with photographs, videos and audio recordings. It includes sixty-three hyperlinks to evidence on this blog and other third-party sites. It is based on government policies and law, as well as the Quebec Order of Nurses’ Code of Ethics.

On the subject of physical restraints, my complaint says:

[XXX] allowed staff to physically restrain my mother using reclining chairs, wheelchairs, tables, alarms, and other means, all of which flew in the face of measures undertaken by the Quebec Department of Social Services to reduce the use of such restraints since 2002. See these links:

It took about eight months for my complaint to get to the top of the investigator’s pile at the Quebec Order of Nurses, and another six months for the investigation to be completed. On November 20, 2020, I received a letter from the complaint investigator. On the subject of my mother being physically restrained every day for almost four years he wrote:

“We questioned the reason a chair was placed under the footrest of your mother’s recliner. [XXX] explained that this measure was necessary to elevate your mother’s lower limbs and that the chair was broken. She also claimed that this was done with your brother’s consent as he was responsible for giving consent on your mother’s behalf. Finally, she said that the call bell was always available to your mother so that she could call the personnel if she wanted to get

We took care to explain to [XXX] that it was indeed a form of restraint that should not be used even to compensate for a broken equipment. She clearly understood that it was not appropriate to do so and asserted that this would not occur again.”

As I read what he had written, I became more and more incensed. I was flabbergasted that he accepted such patently ridiculous excuses in the face of the mountains of evidence I had provided including dozens of images and several videos of my mother being restrained.

On December 17, 2020, I followed up with the Quebec Order of Nurses’ Review Committee about the shortcomings of the investigation. With respect to the ridiculous excuses and lies [XXX] supplied on the subject of physical restraints, I said:

“I will address these ludicrous assertions one by one.

“…this measure was necessary to elevate your mother’s lower limbs…”

Not true. No doubt [XXX] used the excuse of the thrombosis my mother experienced in late 2012/early 2013 as the reason for elevating her lower limbs. Did she mention the reason why my mother got the thrombosis in the first place? It was because they weren’t providing her enough opportunities to exercise. Regardless, the first pictures of the chair under the recliner were taken on September 10, 2014, eighteen months after the thrombosis occurred, and when swelling in my mom’s legs was not problematic. Strangely, when it was problematic, [XXX] and her staff did little to alleviate the swelling in my mom’s lower limbs. They didn’t even provide her with proper socks to help her heal.

“…and that the chair was broken.”

This is an outright lie. The chair was not broken. I was in my mother’s room virtually every day. The recliner worked perfectly well. I know because I rescued my mother from it every time I found her there. How could [XXX] possibly know if the recliner was broken or not? She didn’t go around the place testing the integrity of the furniture. As I said above, the first pictures of a chair under the footrest were taken on September 10, 2014. The second pictures (of a different chair under the footrest of the same recliner) were taken in February 2016. That means if the chair was indeed broken (which it was not), then it would have been broken for at least 17 months. If the chair was broken (which I repeat once more it was not), wouldn’t it have made sense to have it fixed or replaced?

“She also claimed that this was done with your brother’s consent…”

Come on! Is it reasonable to believe the [personal support workers] went to the nurses and asked them to phone my brother to see if it was okay for them to put a chair under the footrest of my mother’s recliner when they wanted to? At least [the investigator] had the grace to use the word “claimed,” because this is clearly also a lie. Furthermore, even it were true, is it okay to abuse someone by physically restraining them because someone gave you permission to do so? Would it be acceptable, for example, for a teacher to tie a student to a chair if the student’s parents had given her permission to do so? Of course not! Because it’s not okay to tie children to chairs, period.

“Finally, she said that the call bell was always available to your mother so that she could call the personnel if she wanted to get up.”

My jaw literally dropped when I read this. I had to read it over several times to believe what I was reading. My mother had dementia. She didn’t know what a “call bell” was, let alone that pulling one would summon help. This is just so far out of the realm of possibility that it is incomprehensible to me that anyone who has ever dealt with people living with dementia at the stage my mother was would say something as inane as “she could have used the call bell.” This is utter nonsense. Plus, look at the pictures I provided. Do you see a call bell? No. You may be able to see a cord that is attached to my mother’s shirt with a safety pin that is attached to an alarm in the wall so an alarm rings in the unlikely event that my mother would be able to make her way to her feet (which she would not because she was trapped in the recliner). And even if she did know what a call bell was and what its purpose was and even if she were able to assess when she needed help, my mother would have had to reach behind her, over her head, behind her shoulder and way to the back in a very awkward way to pull said call bell. Or, she would have had to understand that she needed to reel in the extra “ribbon” to ring the bell. She wasn’t capable of doing any of those things at that stage of the disease, which you can hear for yourself if you listen to the audio at the link I provided in my complaint.

The fact that [XXX] said my mother could have used the call bell is incredible. Either [XXX] has very little understanding of dementia or she was desperate to use any excuse, no matter how implausible, to exonerate herself and avoid taking responsibility for the abuse my mother was subjected to. The fact that [the investigator] actually accepted what [XXX] said as the truth is equally unbelievable. It is unconscionable that people like my mother are being neglected and abused by nurses like [XXX] while your organization turns a blind eye to the ill treatment.

Furthermore, my complaint was about the ways in my mother was physically restrained every day for almost four years. The chairs being placed under the footrest comprised one example among many. Despite the evidence I provided, [the investigator] seems to have completely missed the fact that my complaint was that [XXX] “allowed staff to physically restrain my mother using reclining chairs, wheelchairs, tables, alarms, and other means.” She was trapped/restrained in other recliners (without chairs under the footrests) every day as I showed in the pictures I provided.

Such physical restraints are prohibited by Article 118.1 of the Law on Health Services and Social Services in Québec which says that such measures are not common practice, but only used exceptionally, after having assessed all other restrictive solutions. The resident’s situation must be carefully studied with due consideration for his physical and psychological state to determine the most appropriate intervention.

As of March 1, 2021, I have not received an answer to my letter to the Quebec Order of Nurses’ Review Committee. Based on my experience of elder care in Quebec and Canada, I’m not hopeful.

Still, one must #FightTheGoodFight

hidden restraints: hidden abuse

20 questions to ask yourself about “wandering”

2013, Advocacy, Antipsychotic drugs, Toward better care

25 pics that prove my mom was neglected and abused in long-term care

My mom was a go-getter, she loved to be on the move. Even when she had been living with advancing Alzheimer disease for several years, she told me clearly and directly that she wanted to “keep going.” That was her way. She didn’t want to be sitting and sleeping and missing out on living.

Sadly, Mom didn’t get to live the life she wanted in the end.

When she was moved into a Dementia Jail (aka “nursing home” or “long-term care facility”) in November 2012, her “get up and go” behaviour and her feistiness were challenging for the staff. Instead of finding ways to make the most of her energy, the medical personnel in charge of her care inappropriately prescribed increasing amounts of antipsychotic drugs to chemically restrain her. The drugs caused her to become unsteady on her feet and she started to fall. Instead of reducing the drugs to prevent the falls, they physically restrained her.

If that wasn’t bad enough, her basic care and hygiene needs were often not met. When I went to visit her, which was virtually ever day for four years, the first thing I did was to take her to the bathroom, where, more frequently than not, I would find that her incontinence brief needed to be changed, so I would change it myself.

Here are twenty-five pictures I took during 2013 as I gathered evidence to prove the neglect and abuse I witnessed every day:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

50 more pics that prove my mom was neglected and abused in long-term care

7 forms of elder abuse and how to spot the signs to stop it

#mc_embed_signup{background:#fff; clear:left; font:14px Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; }
/* Add your own MailChimp form style overrides in your site stylesheet or in this style block.
We recommend moving this block and the preceding CSS link to the HEAD of your HTML file. */

Subscribe to MAS now & get 5 free PDFs & a page of welcome links:

Email Address

Take my short survey on behaviour here.

Advocacy, Death & Dying, Life & Living

3 things to know when you can’t be with someone you love as they are dying

Palliative care physician Dr. Mike Harlos gives advice to other palliative care doctors and nurses on how to best support people who are dying, as well as their family members and friends who may be going through the process with them. I love Dr. Harlos’s wisdom and gentle manner, which I have also featured here, and here I wish I had known of these videos before I sat by my mother’s side as she took her final breaths.

According to Dr. Harlos, there are three important things people should remember if they can’t be with a loved when he or she is dying:

  1. Not being in the room at the time of death does not mean you are absent at the time of death
  2. You are connected in spirit and in soul to the people you love
  3. Connection does not require physical proximity

When a family can’t be be present at the death from Canadian Virtual Hospice on Vimeo.

 

3 wise thoughts on being with someone you love as they die, which also apply to being with someone with dementia as they live

understanding the suffering associated with dying

dying with my mom

 

#mc_embed_signup{background:#fff; clear:left; font:14px Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; }
/* Add your own MailChimp form style overrides in your site stylesheet or in this style block.
We recommend moving this block and the preceding CSS link to the HEAD of your HTML file. */

Subscribe to MAS now & get 5 free PDFs & a page of welcome links:

Email Address

Take my short survey on behaviour here.

Image copyright: grinvalds / 123RF Stock Photo

Challenges & Solutions, Resources, Toward better care

20 questions to ask yourself when someone who lives with dementia wants to “go home” or tries to escape wherever they are

Wanting to “go home” is a desire often expressed by people who live with Alzheimer disease and/or other types of dementia, even when they are in their own homes. Not being able to fulfill a loved one’s desire “go home” can be incredibly frustrating for care partners who would certainly take their family member living with dementia “home” if only they could.

In the early days of being a care partner to my mom, I didn’t know what to do when she said “I want to go home.” She would have her little bag packed with random stuff, and be ready to go out the door.

“But Mom, we are home,” I would say. “Look, Mom, this is your furniture, these are your carpets, those are your pictures on the wall. We are home!”

When she wasn’t convinced, the conversation would get more heated as we stood arguing in the kitchen, den, or living room of her big red brick house on the hill, until I sometimes heard myself yelling at her in exasperation “Where is home then, if it’s not here?”

I soon learned that arguing with her didn’t work. It was a waste of time and energy. It left both of us emotionally drained, and no further ahead. Eventually, I found different solutions to “I want to go home,” as well as other challenges. One solutions was to put myself in her shoes, to see her reality rather than my own.

What I discovered through self-reflection, observation and my own research is the behaviour we find challenging in people who live with dementia is behaviour we would likely exhibit ourselves in similar circumstances.

20 questions to ask yourself when someone who lives with dementia wants to “go home” or tries to escape wherever they are
  1. When you find yourself in an environment that makes you anxious or uncomfortable, what do you do?
  2. How would you feel if you were kidnapped? What would you do?
  3. If you found yourself in a place that that was too hot, too cold, or too noisy, what would you do?
  4. If were taken from your home by people you didn’t know, and put in a strange place full of crazy people, what would you do?
  5. Where do you want to go or be when you feel tired, overwrought, out of sorts, out of place, lonely, scared or overwhelmed by everything?
  6. How important is it to your well-being to feel like you belong somewhere? Where do you feel your greatest sense of belonging?
  7. How long can you stay in one place without wanting to go somewhere else? Hours? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?
  8. If someone locked you in your house and told you that you could never leave, how would you feel?
  9. As a child, did you ever fall and hurt yourself while playing outside? Where did your instinct tell you to go for safety and security?
  10. Have you ever run away from a problem, a place or a situation? When? Why?
  11. Do you ever feel like you just have to leave when things get too much for you to bear?
  12. Do you sometimes just want everything to be other than the way it is?
  13. Do you take holidays and vacations away from home? How does it feel to be away? How does it feel to be away when everything seems to go wrong?
  14. How do you feel when you return home after a holiday, vacation or long visit with friends or family?
  15. In general, where do you prefer to be most of the time: in your own home or someone else’s home?
  16. In general where do you feel most comfortable and in control: in your own home or someone else’s?
  17. What feelings does the word “home” evoke for you?
  18. Given the choice, when you feel tired or sick, would you rather be at home or somewhere else?
  19. Do you sometimes long to be somewhere other than where you are?
  20. When do you most appreciate being “at home” wherever that is or whatever it means to you?

It’s no wonder people living with dementia want to go home…

13 expert tips to help with “I want to go home.”

“wandering” is not a symptom of dementia

Take my short survey on behaviour here.

Copyright: kalbi / 123RF Stock Photo

Advocacy, Antipsychotic drugs, Life & Living

i called it the “seroquel shuffle”

It’s February 4, 2020. Six years after the fact.

Six years — almost to the day — after the Director of “Care” at the #DementiaJail in which Mom resided stood up in court and lied about the way my mother was being treated under her supervision. Now, I’m preparing a complaint to lodge against the DoC with the Quebec Order of Nurses. Part of preparing the complaint involves going over all the videos, audios, images and notes I made to document the neglect and abuse my mother was subjected to for four years until she died on August 17, 2016.

This video shows Mom’s condition on December 1, 2013, after I had asked the charge nurse not to give my mother a morning dose of antipsychotics because she could barely walk. My request was denied. I took Mom to my house where she slept sedated in a chair for several hours before waking up and again experiencing great difficult walking. I called it the Seroquel shuffle.

No one with a modicum of common sense would have given my mother antipsychotic medication in the condition she was in before breakfast that day, which was essentially the same condition she was in when she woke up in the afternoon at my home. The debilitating effects of the drugs were shocking; they are documented in the video below.

Six years later, it still makes my blood boil.

To add insult to injury, I was branded a troublemaker for advocating on my mother’s behalf, and for the last eighteen months of her life the time I was allowed to spend with her each day was restricted.

I believe what goes around comes around. The abuse and neglect will all be fully revealed one day.

When lies are told, the truth unfolds.

against my wishes and against her will

four years later is too late for my mom. but it’s not for others.

40+ seroquel side effects

40 risperdal side effects

Take my short survey on behaviour here.

Care Partnering, Resources, Toward better care

20 questions to ask when someone living with dementia “resists” or “refuses” care

I have learned through personal experience, reading and research that people living with dementia (PLWD) behave in logical, natural and understandable ways to stressful situations – just like most of the rest of us do. They react as any “normal” person would, but their behaviour is attributed to the disease rather than to whatever catalyst actually sparked it.

When you think about it, it’s not rocket science, or at least it’s not if you haven’t bought into the biomedical model that labels normal behaviour as aberrant because people have a diagnosis of Alzheimer or a related dementia.

I hope these questions will get you thinking about how “resisting” and “refusing” care might be understood and treated differently. I also hope it will prompt solutions other than a prescription pad and antipsychotic drugs.

20 questions to ask when someone living with dementia “resists” or “refuses” care
  1. Is the person able to do this herself? Would she prefer to do it herself?
  2. Is the care necessary? Could it be deferred or stopped altogether?
  3. If a stranger were doing to me what I’m doing to her, how would I feel? What would I do? How would I react?
  4. Have I asked his permission to do what I’m doing?
  5. Is it the right time for this? Would another time be better?
  6. Am I the right person to be providing this kind of care to her? Would someone else be better equipped?
  7. Have I been properly trained in this kind of care?
  8. How did I approach her? What was her initial reaction? Did I change my approach based on her reaction? Am I going with her flow?
  9. Did I start with and continue to use Hand Under Hand?
  10. What was going on with him in the previous hour or two? What was he doing? Could whatever it was have caused him to feel upset or uncomfortable?
  11. Is this the right environment to be providing this kind of care? Is more privacy needed? Is it too noisy?
  12. Do I normally have a good relationship with her? Does she like me? Do I like her?
  13. Am I treating him with respect? Am I treating him like a child, or a patient rather than like a person?
  14. Am I taking steps to preserve her dignity? Am I being compassionate and understanding? Have I put myself in her shoes?
  15. If I were on the receiving this kind of care, how would I feel? What would I do? How would I react?
  16. How do I feel about providing this kind of care to him? Am I comfortable? Embarrassed? Matter of fact? Clinical? Angry? Disgusted?
  17. Might I have hurt him in any way? Physically or emotionally? Could he be in pain? Is the care process painful?
  18. Is she hot, cold, hungry or physically uncomfortable in some way?
  19. What tone of voice am I using? What kinds of words am I using? If someone were to speak to me like I’m speaking to him, how would I feel? How might I react? What would I do?
  20. Do I have enough time to provide this care properly? Am I hurried and rushed? If I am hurried and rushed, might this be causing her to feel anxious or uncomfortable?

More posts in the “20 questions”series.

20 questions to ask yourself about “wandering”

20 questions that help explain why people with dementia get agitated and physically aggressive

20 questions to ask yourself about dementia-related incontinence

Take my short survey on behaviour here.