Category: Anecdotes
Posted by Dr. El - September 22, 2009 - Anecdotes, Personal Reflections
I tend to think of myself as an 85-year old woman, sitting in my nursing home room, reflecting back on my life. It’s an occupational hazard, but one I’m happy about. I take the long view of things, and have embarked on adventures now because I don’t want to be regretful later. The hours I’ve logged talking to old folks, my teachers, have made a huge impact on me. Some people are inspirational, some are cautionary tales, but I learn something from everyone with whom I come into contact.
For me to be a cool old lady, there are certain things I’d like to have accomplished by the time I reach my 85th year, or at least to have tried my darnedest. I’d like to have maintained a good marriage and to raise my child to become a happy, decent, confident person. I hope to show up for the important people in my life without giving myself away. I’m going to try to keep myself in shape and looking good “for a woman my age,” whatever the age, and to feel comfortable with the age I’m at. I’ve traveled quite a bit, but traveling even more would make me cooler. I want to publish at least one book, a goal I’ve had since I learned to read. I’d like to spread the word about what I’ve learned working in nursing homes so when I move into one, I can live the difference I’ve made.
Posted by Dr. El - September 11, 2009 - Anecdotes, Common Nursing Home Problems and How Psychologists Can Solve Them, Role of psychologists
Have you ever wondered what nursing home residents discuss with their shrinks behind closed doors? Here I solve the mystery, revealing the types of conversations I’ve had with residents over the years.
- Feelings about leaving home and being ill.
- Issues around loss of control and being dependent on other people, with a focus on gaining control over what they can.
- Ways to work with the staff to get their needs met.
- Roommates, and how to cope with them.
- The reaction of family members to their placement and illness, including ways to help adult children understand that Mom or Dad can’t be there for them in the same way because Mom or Dad is sick and needs help themselves, and ways to help adult children understand that just because Mom or Dad is sick, it doesn’t mean they can’t go off campus every once in a while.
- Issues around dying, including concerns about the afterlife and worries about how the family will get along without them.
- Ways of making the most of the time they have left, including getting more involved in nursing home activities and the life of the nursing home community.
- Their lives, choices, accomplishments, and regrets.
- Stuff that interests them that they don’t get to talk about with anyone else, just to be their regular selves again instead of being a patient.
Posted by Dr. El - August 24, 2009 - Anecdotes, Boomers, Customer service, Resident care
Here’s an interesting article on a brief nursing home stay by a medical student as part of her training.
Experiencing Life, Briefly, Inside a Nursing Home
By Katie Zezima
Published: August 23, 2009
MAMARONECK, N.Y. — For 10 days in June, Kristen Murphy chose to live somewhere she and many others fear: a nursing home.
Ms. Murphy, who is in perfect health, had to learn the best way to navigate a wheelchair around her small room, endure the humiliation that comes with being helped in the bathroom, try to sleep through night checks and become attuned to the emotions of her fellow residents.
And Ms. Murphy, 38, had to explain to friends, family and fellow patients why she was there.
Ms. Murphy, a medical student at the University of New England in Biddeford, Me., who is interested in geriatric medicine, came to New York for a novel program that allowed her to experience life as a nursing home patient.
To read the full article, click on the link below:
Posted by Dr. El - August 14, 2009 - Anecdotes, For Fun, Inspiration
In May of this year, I wrote about nursing home artist, Vivian Mae Treadwell Baker, and thought you might like to know what’s transpired since I discovered her wonderful watercolors in her dresser drawer and posted some of them on my blog. The artist moved into a private room, and, with the assistance of her dedicated therapeutic recreation director, she now has a view of her beautifully matted and framed artwork from the comfort of her bed. She wanted you all to know how much pleasure and satisfaction it gives her to see this every day.
Posted by Dr. El - July 21, 2009 - Anecdotes, Inspiration
Margaret was a plump 54-year old woman who was skeptical about psychological services when I first approached her. Three sessions later she sat quietly on the edge of her bed, staring down at her legs, her feet not quite touching the floor.
“I can’t walk. Every time I try to stand up in physical therapy, my whole body starts to shake.” She began to tremble, shivers traveling from head to toe.
“What do you think is going on?”
She clenched her arms around her petite frame, steadying herself. “I don’t know. I guess I’m afraid.”
“Because of your falls?” She’d fractured first one foot and then, months later, the other.
“Yeah. The therapist says I shouldn’t worry, that he won’t let me fall.”
“Who’s your therapist?”
“Nakeem.” Nakeem was a reassuringly bear-like man.
“He’s good. I’ve known him for years.”
“Yeah. Logically I know he wouldn’t let me fall, but still…”
I looked around her room, which was strewn with religious pamphlets. I pointed to the Bible prominently displayed on her tray table. “Where is God in all of this?”
Margaret’s gaze followed my finger and rested on the Bible. I watched as her face lost its tension. “That’s what I’m doing wrong! I’m putting my faith in Nakeem instead of in God! I know what I need to do now.” She appeared energized, rejuvenated.
Later that day I was writing notes at the nursing station and Margaret called out to me. “I did it!”
I looked up, startled. “You did?”
“Yep! I walked twice. Nakeem couldn’t believe it, but I could. I knew I could do it.”
“That’s awesome!” I told her.
Three weeks later, Margaret walked out the door of the nursing facility and headed home.
Posted by Dr. El - March 24, 2009 - Anecdotes, Resident care, Resident education/Support groups
I was walking home from my writer’s group the other day, talking with a group member who’s a former emergency medical technician.
“It’s funny how the elderly get infantilized so much. I wonder why that is,” she commented.
“I think we do it to them. I didn’t realize it for a few years into working in nursing homes, but if you think about it, they don’t have to make their beds, they don’t have to cook meals, or go grocery shopping, or worry about paying their rent, or cleaning their homes. What do we leave them with? Nothing.”
“So, you think we should let them be more involved in those things?”
“No. I think they should be writing their congresspeople, knitting blankets for impoverished babies, raising money for breast cancer research, and even participating in the reelection of right-wing Republican candidates if that’s what they want to do, as long as someone else is doing the laundry.”
Posted by Dr. El - March 17, 2009 - Anecdotes, Communication, Engaging with families, Resident care, Tips for gifts, visits, Transitions in care
Please:
- Hang my psychology diplomas on my wall, so I’m reminded of my accomplishments.
- Display family photos, so I feel surrounded by my loved ones.
- If I have Dementia, label my photos so the staff can talk to me about my family and help me to remember.
- Put a quilt or bedspread on my bed from home so my room won’t look so institutional.
- Over my bed, put up the Halloween photo of me dressed as Wonder Woman, to remind everyone of my hip and glamorous past.
- Make sure I have some nice clothes in my closet (and some lipstick on my lips), so I can continue my hip and glamorous life.
Posted by Dr. El - March 7, 2009 - Anecdotes, Communication, Resident care
Occasionally I pull up a chair to sit with the residents in the hallway, chatting and watching the passersby. One thing I’ve noticed is the vast difference in perspective between eye level and viewing from above. This difference becomes most shockingly clear when the aides wheel the shower chair, with their naked charges covered only by a sheet, to and from the shower room. What may appear to be a completely concealed individual from the perspective of the aide, is often all-too-revealing for those seated in the halls. Similarly, an unwanted light left on by a staff member is no trouble for someone able to walk around the bed to pull the light cord, but can be a difficult and frequently impossible task for a person in a wheelchair. If we take the time to put ourselves in a resident’s position, either literally or figuratively, we often find situations look entirely different, and we can act accordingly.
I recently heard from another blogger, Steve Gurney, who’s made a career of referring older adults to assisted living residences. He decided to take some time to live in a few of these places himself, to see what things might be like from the perspective of a resident. You can follow his journey at
www.everyoneisaging.com. While you’re there, check out the link in the right column, under New and Interesting Sites, called Ben Cornwaite Nursing Home Immersion. It details the experience of a nursing home administrator who briefly lived in his nursing home, and the changes he implemented as a result of his experiment.
Posted by Dr. El - February 13, 2009 - Anecdotes
Many years ago, when I was a new psychologist in long term care, I worked with a woman whose Multiple Sclerosis had impaired her memory to the point she couldn’t remember where she was. I gave her an ID holder with her room number to wear around her neck, but she forgot to look at it. She complained she hadn’t eaten all day, while having crumbs from breakfast on her face.
I approached her for a session one day as she was finishing the last bites of her meal.
“Hi Sally. Would you like to talk for a while?”
“I can’t. I’m hungry.”
“But you’ve just eaten. See, here’s your plate, you’ve eaten everything.”
“But I’m still hungry.”
“Do you remember in science class, when they taught us that the satiety center of the brain takes twenty minutes to register that we’ve eaten?”
“Oh, yeah!” Sally was an intelligent woman, and her memory held strange pockets of information.
“Well, if we talk for twenty minutes, the time you’re waiting to feel full will go faster.”
“Okay.”
Pleased, I wheeled her into the multi-purpose room, moving some chairs around so we’d have space, and settled in to talk to her.
“So, how are you today?”
“I’m hungry.”
And that was the end of that. I learned not to attempt a session with her if she was in one of those moods.
Sally also complained that her room was not her room.
“But look! These are photos of you on the wall.”
Sally shook her head.
“These cards are addressed to you. They’re from your sister.”
“No, this is not my room,” she insisted.
“Well, perhaps we can just sit here for a while, and talk about some other things.”
“No. I have to get out of here. This isn’t my room.”
Sighing, I decided to try an intervention that sometimes works with people with dementia. “Okay, Sally. Let’s go then.” I took hold of the handlebars of her wheelchair and pushed her down the hall. We went up one way, and down another, around and around, in a very convoluted manner. Finally, I pushed her back through her door.
“Here, Sally, this is your room.”
“We didn’t go anywhere. This is the same place. This is not my room.”
And that was the end of that.
I felt there were reasons she didn’t think it was her room. Sometimes people have paranoid delusions where they believe that everyone has been replaced by exact replicas, so no one can be trusted. I wasn’t sure if she believed her room had been replaced in a similar way, or maybe there was some type of plot where everyone was telling her this was her room when clearly, to her, it wasn’t. Sometimes these symptoms respond to psychiatric medication, but often we just have to work around fixed delusions.
On the other hand, perhaps the problem was more psychodynamic in origin. Maybe her complaints had more to do with feeling like she shouldn’t be in the situation she was in at all. “This is not my room. This is not my life.” Maybe “I am hungry” meant she felt she wasn’t getting the love she needed and she felt empty inside. Perhaps if she were able to express this pain, she would feel less distressed in general.
But Sally was too confused to address these issues and eventually I had to admit that, for all my efforts, we weren’t really getting anywhere. I left her to work things out with the nurses and aides, who had long experience with dementia patients and their own, more directive, ways of handling confusion.
Posted by Dr. El - February 8, 2009 - Anecdotes, Communication, Customer service, Dementia, Resident education/Support groups
97-year old Rosebud, whom I mentioned in my 11/15/08 post, was a social worker, raised two children, and now lives in a nursing home. She would like to share with you the following thoughts about recreational activities:
“Old folks know a lot and need to have their minds stimulated. We residents can’t speak back and forth, so there’s a lot of lonely time. We’ve lived different lives and we need to find out what we have in common so we can be drawn together. The recreation staff can help us talk to each other about our lives.
I have the will to have a purpose, but now I need assistance grabbing onto it. Just as we residents need help with cooking and serving our meals, but have the will to eat, we need help in putting our thoughts together to work on a project with a purpose. Growing older, I would like to use my wisdom to help someone else. I want to contribute to a larger cause.”
