Category: Role of psychologists
Posted by Dr. El - June 1, 2010 - Anecdotes, Customer service, Role of psychologists
When I arrived at Mr. Johnson’s room, he was sitting in the doorway in his wheelchair, frowning at the passersby. He was immaculately dressed, as usual, in a button-down shirt and shorts on this hot summer day, looking much younger than his 90 years.
Lately he’d been frustrated that his memory was interfering with his ability to get things done. Last week I’d tacked onto his bulletin board a calendar we’d created to outline the days and times of his favorite activities.
“How are you?” I asked, settling into the chair across from him.
“Not good.” He shook his head. “My daughter Letty is in the hospital and I can’t reach her. She just had surgery and I’m worried about her.” He spoke in slow, measured words, so that sessions with him, while always fruitful, took on his Caribbean pace.
I could tell his anxiety was high, and not good for any of his medical conditions. “Can we call her?”
“I lost my cell phone. And I dropped the answering machine with her message giving me the phone number and all my messages disappeared.” He sounded close to tears.
“Is there someone else we could call who might have her number at the hospital? Or does she have a cell phone? Let me see your phone book.”
He dug around in the bag on the back of his wheelchair, pulled out a book, and slowly started flipping through the pages. I held out my hand. “May I?” He handed it to me and I saw it was filled with neatly written phone numbers in no particular order.
“Look for her brother, Clifford Johnson. He might know how to reach her.”
I found and dialed the number, and handed him the phone. A brief, pleasant conversation ensued with his daughter-in-law, who then put his son on the phone. After a few minutes Mr. Johnson handed me the phone. “I’m out here in Oregon,” Clifford Johnson told me, “and our sister Annette might have her number, but she’s visiting her daughter in Florida. I’ll give you that number. I appreciate what you’re doing for my father.”
A few minutes later I had Annette on the phone. Mr. Johnson gestured for me to talk to her.
“I don’t have Letty’s number, but I can give you her boyfriend’s cell phone number. They’re in Chicago.” she said. I handed the phone to Mr. Johnson for another brief chat.
Letty’s boyfriend picked up immediately and I explained that her father was worried and wanted to get in touch with her. “Boy, is she going to be glad to hear from him! If there’s anything else I can help you with, please let me know.”
“If we reach Letty,” I told Mr. Johnson, “I’m going to give you the phone and then go.” I dialed the number and a tired voice picked up the line. “Letty?” “Yes?” “I’ve got your father here. He wants to talk to you.” “Oh, good!” Her voice energized immediately. I handed the phone to her dad, touched him good-bye on his shoulder, and left the room.
I was sitting at the nursing station writing up my notes when Mr. Johnson stopped by and fixed me with a long look. “God bless you. I will never forget your kindness.” I almost began to cry at the sincerity in his voice. “I feel so much better now. It’s like a weight has been lifted.” He settled in across from the nursing station. Every so often I’d glance over to find him watching me and smiling.
Posted by Dr. El - April 25, 2010 - Anecdotes, Boomers, Dementia, Role of psychologists, Technology, Tips for gifts, visits
Now that I know I’m not going against State regulations (see Dr. El Goes Undercover with the NYS Department of Health), I’ll confess I love to use my iPhone with the residents. In nursing homes that don’t yet have computer access, the iPhone and other web-enabled mobile devices bring the world right to the residents. (For more on the subject, see Therapeutic Use of the Internet in Nursing Homes.)
Here are some therapeutic interventions I’ve used during my psychology sessions. Please add your experiences in the Comments section.
- When I arrived at the door of his room, Jim was sitting with his head in his hands. He looked up and I saw the worry in his eyes. “What’s up?” I asked him. He said, “I put all my stuff in storage before I got here, but now I can’t remember the name of the place. I’m worried I’m gonna lose my things.” Pulling out my iPhone, I Googled the storage center based on the general location, and handed him the phone number. Relieved, he was able to discuss his other concerns. When I ran into him later in the day, he’d phoned, made arrangements for his belongings, and was now smiling and relaxed.
- “My old doctor gave me different medication,” Ms. Garcia told me. “I never had this problem before.” “Do you have your doctor’s phone number? Maybe your old physician could talk to your doctor here.” “I don’t have the number. But I know her name.” After a quick search and a couple of phone calls, Ms. Garcia was on the phone with the MD she’d had for the last fifteen years. “Hey!!! How you doing??? Listen, can you call my doctor here and tell him about me?” Two days later, the MDs had conversed, the meds had been changed, and the problem was solved.
- Ana’s usually energetic demeanor had faded and my attempts to engage her were met with glum, monosyllabic replies. I switched gears. “Would you like to listen to music? We could play some of your native Romanian songs.” She was unenthusiastic until my YouTube search came up with the Romanian Ballad of Ciprian Porumbescu. Her face lit up and she listened intently, eyes closed, appearing to drink in the music. “He is very famous in my country,” she told me, and when the ballad concluded, she reminisced about her past, revealing more about her youth than she had in our previous three months of psychotherapy.
- Once I worked briefly with a man who was new to the nursing home and appeared lost. Trying to anchor him, I asked if he had any hobbies. “Irish dancing,” he told me. I searched for Irish dance music in YouTube and found a video of some Riverdance-type performers. His eyes brightened and, from his wheelchair, his feet jumped and pranced with remarkable skill. From the knees down, he was a Riverdancer; from his neck up, he was a happy man. After this intervention, I spoke to his children and asked them to bring him a CD player and some Irish music, and also shared the information with his recreation therapist so she could play his music on the unit.
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 19, 2009 - Depression/Mental illness/Substance Abuse, End of life, Role of psychologists
The two most important moments in a person’s life are coming into this world and leaving it. I might not be able to help someone have a good life, but I can help them make the most of their last months or years and to have a good death. That’s well worth my time and energy. More on that in a future post. Here’s a link to an article on the topic that was posted on Yahoo today.
Link to Yahoo story
Study finds end-of-life counseling improves mood
By CARLA K. JOHNSON, AP Medical Writer – Tue Aug 18, 4:00 pm ET
CHICAGO – As a political uproar rages over end-of-life counseling, a new study finds offering such care to dying cancer patients improves their mood and quality of life.
The study of 322 patients in rural New Hampshire and Vermont also suggests the counseling didn’t discourage people from going to the hospital. The research didn’t look at costs.
The study’s publication in Wednesday’s Journal of the American Medical Association coincides with the fight over health care overhaul proposals in Congress.
Some conservatives have called end-of-life counseling included in one version of the bill “death panels” and a step toward euthanasia. A House proposal allows Medicare to pay doctors to chat with patients, if they desire it, about living wills, hospice and appointing a trusted person to make decisions when the patient is incapacitated.
President Barack Obama called the euthanasia charge “simply dishonest.” Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius has said the end-of-life proposal is likely to be dropped from the final bill.
In the new study, trained nurses did the end-of-life counseling, mostly by phone, with patients and family caregivers using a model based on national guidelines.
All the patients in the study had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Half were assigned to receive usual care. The other half received usual care plus counseling about managing symptoms, communicating with health care providers and finding hospice care.
Patients and their caregivers also could attend monthly 90-minute group meetings with a doctor and a nurse to ask questions and discuss problems in what’s called a “shared medical appointment.”
Patients who got the counseling scored higher on quality of life and mood measures than patients who did not.
On the quality of life scale, patients could score up to 184 points. The groups were about 10 points apart in the last assessment before they died. On the mood scale, patients could score up to 60 points and the groups were about 5 points apart.
The patients who got the counseling also lived longer, by more than five months on average, but that finding didn’t reach a statistical level of significance.
Patients getting such counseling often thank the nurses helping them, said lead author Marie Bakitas, a researcher and nurse practitioner at Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center in Lebanon, N.H.
“They seem to feel a whole lot better knowing there’s someone who’s looking at the rest of them and not just the tumor,” Bakitas said.
In both groups, hospital stays were rare: six to seven days on average during the patients’ last year of life. Betty Ferrell of City of Hope Medical Center in Duarte, Calif., who has done similar research but wasn’t involved in the new study, said that’s not surprising.
“It’s patients and families in their own living rooms who are dealing with end-of-life care,” Ferrell said. “They’re not in the hospital. They’re at home.”
Ferrell, who leads a guidelines panel on end-of-life care, praised the study, which was funded by the National Cancer Institute, and said she hoped it would clear up misconceptions.
“This is about helping people live with the diagnosis the doctor has given,” Ferrell said. “This study reflects on what kind of support do people deserve when they’re dying.”
Posted by Dr. El - July 14, 2009 - Business Strategies, Common Nursing Home Problems and How Psychologists Can Solve Them, Communication, Depression/Mental illness/Substance Abuse, Resident care, Role of psychologists
The July 2009 report, Trends in Mental Health Admissions to Nursing Homes, 1999 – 2005 notes that “the proportion of nursing home residents with mental illness, in particular depression, has overtaken the proportion of those with dementia”. According to a July 1, 2009 article by Liza Berger in McKnights.com, “younger mentally ill people now account for nearly 10% of the nation’s nearly 1.4 million nursing home residents”. While there is discussion of more preferable housing options for these residents, here are some suggestions to help those currently in long term care. As always, if there’s something I’ve missed, please add it to the Comments section.
1. Collect as much information as possible prior to admission about the psychiatric history and the medications which stabilize the individual.
2. Upon admission, refer the resident to the psychiatrist to assess mental status, review medications, and to establish a relationship. Mentally ill residents need to feel there are people in the nursing home looking after their mental health care as well as their physical care.
3. Upon admission, refer the resident to the psychologist, who can offer additional mental health support and monitoring. It’s better to refer someone before problems arise than to wait until negative behaviors and conflicts have been established. For more on this, see my earlier post, The Critical Period in Nursing Home Placement.
4. The social worker, as the most consistently available member of the mental health part of the treatment team, can act as the liaison between the psychiatrist, psychologist, resident, family, and the rest of the nursing home team, helping to share information.
5. Train the staff, especially the CNAs and nurses, to be familiar with the signs and symptoms of mental health problems.
6. Add the element of “behavioral rounds” to the change of shift report, noting any changes in behavior. In the psychiatric hospital, we did it very quickly, running down the names of the patients on the unit, speaking up if any unusual behavior occurred. For example, when the CNA-equivalent on the psychiatric team reported she’d seen a man with Bipolar Disorder laughing by himself in the hallway, the psychiatrist immediately increased his meds, recognizing the early signs of a manic episode. Early detection is particularly important because the lag time between referral for and completion of a psychiatric consult can be substantial.
7. Refer unstable or aggressive residents out to the psychiatric hospital as soon as possible. Doing so sends the message to other residents, staff, and visitors that their emotional and physical health are important, and relieves them of the anxiety of living or working with a resident who might be dangerous to themselves or someone else. It also provides the limit-setting such a resident requires for their own well-being.
8. Establish a relationship with a psychiatric hospital that’s familiar with the needs of older adults and provides adequate stabilization. For example, one nursing home changed the psych hospital they used after a paranoid schizophrenic resident in her 80s returned from a hospitalization still actively psychotic, with a baby doll, reflecting the hospital’s view of the elderly.
9. If possible, use the resident and family as resources. Knowledgeable residents and family members will be able to tell the team what medications have been successful in the past, and what proved troublesome.
10. When the right combination of medications is found, post this prominently in the chart and educate the resident and family so they have the information for future use.
11. If there are a group of residents with a psychiatric history who are functioning relatively well physically, it can be beneficial to provide them with a well-monitored space for group activities such as dominoes and card games which they can initiate without staff intervention. Training the staff monitors to work with groups of mentally ill residents will make such programs more successful.
12. Consider providing access to support groups such as Alcoholics Anonymous, either on-campus or in the community. Many mentally ill residents have a comorbid substance abuse history due to attempts at self-medicating. Such groups will provide emotional support and skills for living.
13. The social worker and psychologist can prepare appropriate residents for living in the community in a less restrictive, but still supportive, environment such as an adult home.
Posted by Dr. El - January 23, 2009 - Business Strategies, Common Nursing Home Problems and How Psychologists Can Solve Them, Customer service, Depression/Mental illness/Substance Abuse, Resident care, Role of psychologists, Transitions in care
I couldn’t wait to go to college. I was ready to shake off the old me, and begin a brand new self. No one would know who I’d been, and I could therefore be whomever I wanted to be.
In my Psych 101 textbook, there was a picture of animal behaviorist Conrad Lorenz, followed by a row of baby geese. The goslings had found Dr. Lorenz during their critical period of imprinting, when they bonded to the first suitable stimulus they saw. Conrad Lorenz became the goslings’ mama.
When residents enter nursing homes, they have the opportunity to create new identities. They are surrounded by strangers and novel social situations, with as limited a pull from family and friends to be their old selves as they are likely to have experienced in decades. While most residents aren’t necessarily looking to become new people, their early nursing home contacts can affect how they settle into their environment.
Mrs. Leibowitz arrived at the nursing home depressed, but wasn’t referred for psychological services until months after her arrival. She’d already established the pattern of spending days alone in her room, watching television for hours at a time. She was irritable with staff members, often refusing care, or chasing them out of her room with her foul language. “There’s nobody to talk to here,” she told me. I had my work cut out for me. The critical period had been lost.
Mr. O’Conner, on the other, was lucky enough to be placed in a room with Mr. Chu, the President of the Resident Council. Mr. Chu took Mr. O’Conner under his wing (so to speak), and together they played cards with some of the other gentlemen, and attended activities which appealed to them both. Our new resident integrated nicely into the community and never needed psychological treatment.
I’d like to see every nursing home form a welcoming committee, by residents, for residents, to help aid the transition to the nursing home. And I’d like to get my referrals early, during the critical period, instead of after the conflicts, isolation, and other problems have become entrenched. That way I can more easily help people take advantage of the best that nursing homes have to offer.
Posted by Dr. El - January 10, 2009 - Anecdotes, Role of psychologists
Louise was a petite 79-year old woman who spent her days watching TV and working her needlepoint, anchoring the tapestry frame against her chest with one arm while she slowly pushed the needle through with her good hand. I first met her casually because she was the roommate of another resident I was seeing. I’d say hello and excuse myself as I pulled the curtain for “privacy” while I spoke to her roommate, Cynthia, who was dying of cancer. I wasn’t too sure how much Louise could understand, since her speech was garbled and unintelligible, but we always acknowledged each other when I arrived for my weekly sessions with her roommate. When Cynthia died, I made a point of stopping by to offer my condolences. To my surprise, Louise burst into tears and held up her good hand for me to wait, while she labored over a note she wrote on the back of the recreation calendar. She pushed the paper toward me. I read it out loud. I was in the room when she died. I was in the room when my father died. She began to wail, and I murmured reassurances and stayed with her until she became calm.
Louise wasn’t referred to me for treatment, however, until she threw a cup of water at her aide several weeks later. (I’m not allowed to refer patients to myself.)
Louise told me about her life via handwritten notes and the occasional using of the talking computer that verbalized what she painstakingly typed out.
I’ve been a cripple ever since I got polio as a girl. I never had a job.
“Yet you write so well,” I commented, “and your spelling is perfect.”
My mother home-schooled me. My parents insisted on an education.
She told me about her twin sisters, Lina and Lana, now 81 years old.
They doted on me, just like my parents did. She laughed, and took back the scrap of paper to add, They still do.
Once Lana came to the nursing home for rehab and I pushed Louise in her wheelchair to visit with her. The kissing and hugging that ensued caused me to turn away with embarrassment. I felt like I was interrupting a pair of lovers. When I said this to Louise, she giggled.
I took Louise out to sit on the patio, and I introduced her to some of the other residents, but still she sat in her room day after day.
I can’t talk to them. No one understands what I’m saying.
“Why don’t you try using your computer?” I suggested. I set her up in the hallway and explained to some of her neighbors how the computer worked. She tried this a couple of times, but soon retreated to her television and needlepoint.
“You know, Louise,” I finally said, “you might have been disabled and different from others all your life, but now you’re just like everyone else here. Almost everyone is in a wheelchair. When I first met you, I didn’t know you’d had polio. You looked like you could have had a stroke like Ms. Lopez or Mr. Wilson down the hall. It’s hard to understand them too, and they’re still out there, attending activities.”
She didn’t say much about this, but the next week I found her at a concert in the dining room with the other residents. Soon after, she became a regular at all the recreational activities and her childish rages with staff diminished. She stopped me in the hall one December day after we’d concluded treatment to ask me if I could come by to see her perform as Mary in the 3rd floor’s Nativity play. I managed to stop in the doorway for a while to watch the performance. She caught my eye and beamed a smile.