Life is always worth living: Part 1.
Nothing to do with the story below, but I like including cute pictures of my residents when I can. This is my saucy 4-foot-nothing gal lighting up with a smile when I told her it was time for dinner the other night.
‘Tracy, is there any way…I mean, if you have a second, she’s wearing a pillowcase instead of pants, and she told me no…can you try?’ My caregiver had exhausted herself with attempting to redirect Margaret* back into her room to put on Depends and a clean pair of pants and abandon the pillow case she was trying to keep wrapped around herself as a skirt. I’m not a trained caregiver, but in a small community, we all pitch in.
I found Margaret in the exercise area where she likes to sit, walked up to her, and held out my hand. ‘Come on,’ I said authoritatively. ‘You said you wanted to go to your apartment and put on pants, and I’m here to walk with you.’ She looked at me questioningly, so I repeated my little white lie. ‘You asked for me to come help you, so here I am. Let’s go!’ Slowly, she raised herself up out of her chair and followed me complicity into her apartment. Her pants were neatly folded on the couch by her front door, so I grabbed them and held them up. ‘Here are the pants you were looking for!’ I exclaimed brightly. ‘I know you don't want to wear that anymore,’ I continued, pointing to her floral pillowcase skirt.
‘I don’t have much time but I wanted to help you like you requested. If I can take that skirt, I’ll give you this pair of pants.’ She was quiet but compliant, and slowly we worked together to get her shoes off, her Depends on, and her pants pulled up and zipped. Once she was ready, I let her know we were going to head to lunch, and we turned left out of her doorway and headed for the dining room. She smiled at me as we walked slowly down the hallway, and I commented that it’s always nice to go together. ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘Together is nice.’
There isn’t much of a point to this story, except to say that if you are struggling with a loved one who has dementia, there are places where they can be safe, and there are people who will try again and again without ceasing to make sure they are being taken care of. I understand that it can be difficult to look at someone like Margaret and see quality of life, especially when you're trying to remember who she is inside the fog of dementia. However, there are times where her personality and spirit poke through, and I will always argue that those few bright spots are more than worth the effort of digging through the cloud.
