Bedtime stories

I have often heard parents complain about the summer nights not getting dark until gone 9pm. Children will say 'It can't be time for bed it's still light outside' I experience the same issues with a lot of my ladies and gents.


Two ladies in particular who both used to be a Headmistress tend to cause a few problems. Being headmistresses they both dominate the younger carers and get away with what they want. The first one has often been found still in her chair in the morning because a carer has politely asked 'Would you like to go to bed now?' to which she has firmly replied 'No!' The carer has left herself with no-where to go and has had to leave her watching television. I don't give any choice and perhaps because I am older I get away with more, I just say 'Time for bed' and start to dress her in her nightwear. All our carers now know how to deal with her and she now just excepts the routine


The other lady is down for a call at 2030hrs. During the winter months, being dark, this is too late because she has made her own way to bed, which is not good as she often has falls when walking around. During the Summer months because it is light, she refuses to go to bed saying it is too early. Where possible I try to arrange my round to suit the season, however I can't go much later as I have two more calls after her.


The other night I arrived at the designated time and asked if she would make her way to the bedroom.
'No, It's too early'
As I experience this on a regular basis, I made us both a cup of tea and started to fill in my record of care notes whilst having a chat. Normally this is enough time for her to get used to the idea and feel she is making her own decision to go to bed. However on this occasion she was not having any of it. Aware that she won over the young carer the evening before, I was determined not to set a precedent. I also noted that earlier in the day she had fallen over and banged her head. so my conscience would not allow me to risk leaving her to get to bed on her own; The following conversation went round in loops and she had started to get so agitated that I was beginning to feel that I was fighting a losing battle.


'I will be alright dear, I am perfectly capable of making my own way to bed'
'But you have had a fall today'
'So! I am even less likely to have another one' came the illogical reply
'Yes but I would never forgive myself if you had another fall like this morning'
'It is still daylight outside and I am not a child'
'So what happens if you have a fall?
'I have my alarm button.'
'You mean the one tied to your trolley that you could not reach when you fell earlier in the month'
'When was that?
'When you bashed your arm' pointing to the bandaging that was still covering the wound. And you fell over this morning' aware that I was beginning to repeat myself
'Yes but I was alright then and I will be fine NOW!' she retorted as I could felt the tension rising.
'Yes but that was because the carer came in and found you within an hour. If I leave you now it could be ten hours before anyone found you.
'Sorry I don't see the difference'
'Well you were a headmistress, you should  know' I said with a smile
'What?' came the puzzled response
'Ten minus one equals nine'
Tension broken as she started to chuckle 'Oh alright I'll go to bloody bed then'






The next week I was having the same problem with her. Smiling graciously when she was asking what time I would finishing whilst thinking 'That it all depends on you'. Some 40 minutes later when I finally get her into bed she asked 'When will I see you again?'
'Saturday evening and I am praying for rain.' I replied with a smirk
'Oh that's a bit glum, Why?'
'Because, you go to bed early when it's raining'

My favourite shower days again

The latest antics with my special needs man. If you remember for some reason he always wears a shower hat before getting in the shower, despite the fact that I am going to wash his hair. As I have said I always put it on before and sing 'Where did you get that hat?'
Well his mother has bought one for me. It is white with black spots and has a bow at the back. I look a bit like Cruella Deville dutifully wearing it and causing great joviality in the shower. Now the song is 'Where did we get those hats'
New songs have been added like 'feeling Hot Hot hot' except I say it's 'not too Hot Hot Hot' when I start to wash his hair. As it goes on I sing the 'feel it in the morning, feel it in the evening' with him coming in with the Hot Hot Hots. Recently I added 'Feel it on your fingers' and 'feel it on your crown jewels' which had him in stitches.




Today, after I finished the call and had my little chat with his mum over a cup coffee,  I bade farewell and made way to the car. Just as was about to get in the car the lady who cleans was pulling up.


'Morning Tania' I shout out.
Morning Ian, you might want to take that hat off before you go any further, I don't think we are expecting any rain.'

lost keys

One of my regular chores in life as a care worker and at home is looking for keys. I am useless at finding my own ones let alone all my ladies and gents. I have a few dementia people who can be quite imaginative with their secret stashes. under mattresses; in the fridge; in the bread bin etc.

One of my recent challenges was with Sheila who suffers from a really short span of attention.  It was the day of a neighbour's funeral and for her it was an occasion that dominated her mind. It was a change from the norm and in a strange way was something to look forward to; a chance to get away from her four walls and get out. I arrived at 0845 to find her already dressed  in her outfit, front door wide open with her pacing up and down looking out for her lift. As the funeral was not for another two hours I coaxed her back inside to take her medication and check she had eaten.
Just as I was about to leave she announced that her keys were missing and went into panic mode. Whilst  trying to calm her down we started the search in all the usual places; in her pockets; under her pillows; down the side of the settee. All to no avail. She went to see if her neighbour had a key, but still no luck as she had gone out. I was just about to give up after ten minutes when I found them in the soap dish of the shower cubicle.  Now running late and aware that I should already be at the next call I put her keys in her bag and placed it on the table suggesting that she calm down.
As I bade my farewell and crossed the road to my car I heard a door slam behind me and there was sheila coming down the path. My heart sank.
'Have you got your keys Sheila?'
The look on her face gave me the answer
I climbed over the fence to get round to back of the house to find that door also locked. The only entrance was a small kitchen window, so with the aid of a large plant pot I climbed up to open it fully, thus allowing me to reach in to open a larger window which was just big enough for me to squeeze through, clamber over the sink before eventually letting Sheila back in. I sat her down, put the television on and suggested she watched it until someone knocked on the door.
I got to my next call 30 minutes late

unexpected smile

On my way into Jean's I passed a Relative on the way out. Jean does not have many visitors so it was nice to see a smiling face as a entered the house. She can normally be quite agitated spending her  time alone, clock watching and waiting for the Carers to arrive, but with the unexpected distraction she was full of the joys of spring.


We started our routine of getting her ready for bed and as I was about to administer the medication I looked over at her bedside table and noticed that her friend had kindly made some blackcurrant juice, As I picked up the glass I could even hear some ice chinking in the bottom; a nice touch, I thought, on this hot day. It is sometimes difficult to get Jean to take medication with plain water so I offered her the glass. She dutifully took all three tablets with a large gulp of juice, before handing it back half full as she didn't want the rest. I tucked her up in bed and picked up the glass to wash up on my departure; as I tipped the liquid away I realised with horror that it was not ice chinking around in the bottom of the glass.....
                                          ....... but there in the bottom of the sink were her dentures smiling up at me.

The daily routine

During my short time as a care worker I have discovered that routine is probably one of the most important things for my ladies and gents. They like to know who is coming and at what time, then more importantly, what we are doing in what order when we arrive. If I have a new carer going in to see one of my people I will always make a point of running through the order that I do things; Not only does this help the person we are caring for but also helps us as carers complete the call within the time allowed. People with dementia obviously need this routine more than anyone else but It was not until recently that I realised how much the things we say can also become part of that routine.






I have been looking after Brian for about six weeks now and quickly got him into a routine. As he sits on the chair of the stair lift I say (as I do with a lot of people) 'first floor ladies lingerie,' to which he will always chuckle and reminisce about the TV programme 'Are you being served'. Then when we get to the shower I  regale him with a verse of singing in the rain. which he dutifully joins in with; He has a little green pouch with his money in, so a burst of The Robin Hood theme has to be sung as I put it on the bedside cabinet for him, and so on.






The other night I went in and Brian had got very distressed about a family matter and his wife was almost at the end of her tether trying to calm him down. As with a lot of dementia patients he had become fixated on the problem and would not let it go despite several reassurances. It is in these circumstances that staying calm when all round you are not is the best policy. A change of subject was needed but I was not sure how, so I decided to just start getting him ready for bed, I coaxed Brian out of his chair and helped him as he unsteadily made his way to the chair lift. He was extremely confused and barely seemed to know what was going on.


As he sat in the chair of the stair lift I chipped in with my usual line 'First floor; Ladies lingerie'


Almost immediately, I could see the tension leaving his face as he looked up and chuckled 'Oh! It's you.' He then leant forward and gave me a hug.






It was one of those special moments that makes being a care worker worth while.




It also occurred to me, that my little one liners and songs are what identifies me to a lot of people with dementia,  His short term memory did not pick up on my face but my daily routine performance.

double vision

Whilst visiting Louisa the other day she handed me a letter and asked if I could read it to her.


'It's about my eyes' she said. 'I am having my an operation on them, so hopefully I will be able to read it myself soon.'


I opened the envelope and started to read the information out loud. It was standard stuff about what to do on the day of the operation; Time and date; What to bring; where to park;  post op treatment etc.
I had read two pages and just turned over the third page to read when I stopped in my tracks.


'Have you had any trouble with double vision Louisa? I enquired
'No?'
'Are you sure?'
'Yes I'm having a cataract removed in my left eye'
'And that hasn't caused any double vision?'
'No. Why?
'Well they've sent you two identical letters in the same envelope.'

Outrageous treatment of Carers

Just recently there has been a lot in the news about poor care. Whilst I abhor what has gone on, I am equally disgusted with the way some carers are treated by their companies. I recently spoke to two different carers who work for two different companies and was astonished to find that they are not paid for any time that they take to travel between calls. They are expected to either cut short one call to reach the next or use their own time if they take too long at the call. This effectively means that vulnerable people are being rushed by a carer who is constantly looking to leave after 6 minutes because that constitutes 15 minutes care; This in itself must create stress to the service users and the carer resulting in fraught situations where someone is taking longer than expected;  worst case scenario this could lead to abuse. The alternative is that the more conscientious carers work for five hours and get paid for four. At rate of £7.20 an hour that sounds like it takes it below the minimum wage. Is it any wonder we are hearing stories of poor care when the carers are treated in such a way.


On a note about zero hours contracts being outlawed the companies are getting round it by offering a 7 hour contract over a week.