I went to the Memory Care Unit of the Mansion today to drop off flowers for their three dining tables (I got in trouble with Tania Woodward for not bringing enough bouquets and vases for them.
As I was setting them out on the tables, one of the unit’s residents turned to me and said, “young man, I’d like to talk with you. Please sit down.”
It wasn’t a request; it was more like a command. I had not met Ann or spoken with her.
I said I would be delighted to sit down and talk with her and pulled up a chair at the table where she was sitting with two other unit residents.
I told her my name, and she said her name was Ann.
I asked her how long she had been in the unit, and she said she didn’t know. I asked her if there was something special she wanted to talk to me about.
Ann: “Yes, I wanted to talk to you about being late for class too many times.”
Jon: (Remembering several conversations that he had had with teachers when he was younger) “I’m sorry for being late. I guess I overslept. It won’t happen again.”
Ann (smiling): “That’s good to hear. You are a bright young man, but you need to be on time in class to learn.”
Jon: “I do understand that, and thanks for telling me. Did you have dogs?”
Ann: ” I had two wonderful dogs, but I can’t remember their names.”
Jon: “I have a dog named Zinnia, and we will be coming here to visit with you once at least every week.”
Ann: (lighting up and smiling). “What did you say the dog’s name was?”
Jon: “Zinnia.”
Ann: “And what did you say your name was?”
Jon: “Jon.”
Ann: “Good to talk with you, Jon.”
Jon: “Good to talk with you, Ann.”
Ann: “What was it that we got to talk about?.”
Jon: “Class and dogs.”
Ann nodded.
We hugged each other and said goodbye.
I’ve learned to go with these conversations; they are beautiful in their way.
Memory comes and goes and reveals itself in different ways and then disappears, only to return in another way.
I never correct or challenge anyone; I go where the conversation goes, and in the end, we both feel good about it.
When my mother in law’s memory got sketchy I would let her lead the conversation. They often made little sense but we both thoroughly enjoyed them.
A perfect example of how to step into someone’s reality when they are living with dementia. I work for a local Home Care company in Saratoga, and I am training staff next week on dementia care. I plan to use this as an example. Thank you, Jon!
When I was young, I worked as an activities director in a nursing home. We were told to do something called Reality Orientation with the residents, to keep them attuned to their reality. If their minds wandered back to an earlier time we were supposed to remind them of the date, and that they currently lived at the XXXXX Nursing Home. I only did this when I was being watched. Most of the time I just entered a reciprocal conversation in the resident’s reality. During arts and crafts time Blanche thought she and I were co-workers on the assembly line at the factory where she had worked for many years. We had many conversations about the boss. (She didn’t like him.) We talked a lot about “the boys”. She like them. We made plans for after work, and she just beamed. Those conversations were animated and delightful. I hope when I am old I have people around me that will allow me to choose my own adventure.