Take a seat

Whilst out working with another carer I visited a lady called Irene who I had never met before; The other carer knew her quite well, so she started to do the personal care, whilst I pottered around making breakfast and a cup of tea. Her bed is in the lounge, so as I finished first I thought I would sit down and fill in the record of care book whilst having a chat. As I went to sit, Irene imediately piped up 'Don't sit in that chair please dear. Can you sit in the other one please'

'Of course' I said as I wondered why? Perhaps it was her late husband's favourite chair and she cannot bare to see any one else sitting in it or maybe she's a bit OCD and doesn't want the cushions disturbed.
The other carer just gave me a knowing look and carried on with her work. Once Irene was dressed and ready to be moved, she smiled and said 'You can go into the other chair now you've warmed my one up thank you.

Strange coincidences

There are occasions when strange coincidences occur.

There are a couple that stick in  my head the first one occurred whist pulling up outside the house of one of my Gents called Donald, I smiled to myself as I realised Andy Stewart's 'Donald where's you troosers' was playing on the radio; I couldn't remember the last time I had heard that song and thought it a very strange coincidence.  Imagine my surprise, when I actually found Donald sitting in the lounge without his trousers on. Apparently, he had got too hot and decided to take them off.

The wind blows high... the wind blows low.......

For those of you too young to remember the song see link below: -
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4yw0bLHTOb0






The second coincidence occurred whilst visiting a lady on my round and we got talking about Scouting; She started telling me all about her father, who had started the first scout troop in the area and showed me with great pride, a newspaper clipping with a photograph of her father, in his scout uniform on his wedding day. The strange thing was that when we looked at the date on the top of the paper, it was 10th October, which happened to be the same date as I was paying this particular visit.

I then went on to visit another chap and started to relay the story to him, at which point he said. 'That man was my scout leader.'
I think someone was looking down on us that day don't you.

The Little Pink Pill

Dementia can manifest itself in many ways; there is the obvious one where people can’t remember what they did yesterday; then the ones who revert back to a happy place in their past; some people get panic stricken when confronted with anything new and then there are those who get fixated on the smallest of things and won‘t let them go.
Jean is one of those ladies. She is a sweet lady who lives all on her own in a large house in a remote village’ The only company she gets is from the carers and Meals on wheels, consequently she sits and watches the clock from one visit to the next; because of this it is often very difficult to leave at the end of the call, She will always try to find something to keep you there another five minutes and plead with you to stay.

As a rule, I have gentleman I visit before her that doesn’t really need much care other than to make a sandwich with a cup of tea and definitely does not want to be bothered with any idle chit chat, in fact he barely acknowledges your presence, so I usually finish with him early and spend a bit more time with Jean.

Jean’s fixation is her pills; from the moment I arrive I am harassed about her tablets and she physically shakes as she tells me that she needs them because they stop her shaking. She is right though because within a few seconds of taking the said tablets, the shaking stops; all psychological of course.
However that is not the end of the matter, from then on I get asked ‘ Have I taken my pills? Where are my night pills? What time is someone coming into do my morning pills? This will carry on throughout the thirty to forty minute call. The odd thing is her memory is not bad at all, she can talk about any subject you choose with absolute clarity, knows what happened yesterday and recalls telephone numbers for old friends without looking them up.

Recently I got a call from one of her other carers warning me that there is an extra pill to give Jean from now on, morning and night. So the next evening I enter jean's house and am immediately told about the little pink pill.

‘It’s alright Jean I know’

‘Oh good’

I put the pills in front of her and watch her swallow them with her jelly’

‘How many pills are in here?’

‘Three’

‘Including the little pink pill?’

‘Yes Jean’

‘Oh Good’

Five minutes later

‘Have I taken my pills?’

‘Yes Jean’

‘And the little pink one?’

‘Yes Jean’

‘What about in the morning?’

‘All the carers know about the new medication’

‘Oh Good’

Five minutes later

‘Did I take the little pink pill?’

‘Yes Jean’

And so on…….

After about the fourth time of going through this routine I ask

‘What is the little pink pill for anyway Jean?’

‘It’s supposed to stop me worrying’

‘I don’t think it’s working, do you Jean?’

‘No! I don’t think it is Dear’

 

 

Sour Milk

Katie greeted me with her usual smile this morning.  'The milk has gone sour. I don’t know why it has gone sour, I’m sure.’

‘Oh dear! Shall I pop up the road and get some more’

‘Oh that will be nice dear, Thank you’

Fortunately the shops were only round the corner so I hopped in the car and returned five minutes later with the milk. As I looked in the fridge I noticed a large four pint container.

‘I go back in and tell Katie this and she replies. ‘No I meant the milk in the jug that my daughter fills up for me’

‘Oh well never mind, I’ll take the milk home we can always use it up. Where do you keep your tea?

‘Oh I forgot to say, I have run out of tea as well’



Incidentally this jug of milk was key to another problem I had with Katie. On odd occasions she would have an upset stomach, often blaming it on her meals on wheels.
On one occasion I found her finishing her cereal off as I arrived, so I asked if she would like a cup of tea to wash it down.
‘Yes please’ came the usual reply.
The jug of milk she had used for her breakfast was sitting on the side, so I poured some into the cup. It was off and came out with the consistency of yoghurt. I guess she puts so much sugar on her cereal that she could not taste it.

Since then I have asked the evening carers to throw any milk left in the jug away before they leave at night.
No more tummy upsets.

Wrong number

Deidre always finds me something to sort out when I arrive at her house. I have shown her how to use her microwave oven because fish and chips seven days a week is not a particularly good diet; I have put a curtain back up; sorted out an extractor fan and brought some ‘Vanish' over to get rid of a carpet stain; but above all of these, the thing that needs sorting most of all is the television. About twice a week she has pressed a button and lost the picture, then greets me with ‘This television is no good, I’ll have to get a new one’ (It is brand new by the way)

One of the things she regularly does is to simply turn it off from the remote and because of this I wrote down a few simple instructions for her to follow.

So today, I enter her house and ask ‘How are you today?'
‘Not good, my telly’s broken again’ she retorts ‘it hasn’t worked since you left it yesterday.'
‘Really?’ Did you follow the instructions I wrote out for you?’
‘Yes. You watch’ she said as she picked up her telephone. ‘I am pressing the green button and then pressing 800’

Heaven only knows who she was ringing.

Ok Partner

As I was about to leave a chap with dementia, his wife says can you get him to drink his Movicol; he takes so long to drink it, it wears me out having to keep prompting him. So I poured his drink along with a glass of water for myself and sat opposite him at the table.

'Ok' I say in my best Texan accent ' Ok Partner, the first one to down the drink gets the girl'
He won! His wife stood there gob smacked.

Not quite sure what happened after I left.   

The power of suggestion

I am often called out to go outside of my area. It was on one such occasion I went to see Babs. When I arrived, she had swapped the keys round in her key safe. After spending five minutes trying to get the keys in the lock, I twigged that I possibly had the keys for the back door. So off I scramble through the garden which was in pitch darkness and into the house which was also in darkness. I always carry a torch with me and felt quite the intruder as I flashed my torch round trying to find a light switch, half expecting the police to knock on the door at any moment.






I eventually found Babs lying in bed upstairs and quite downhearted saying she had nothing to live for and so on.

‘Have you eaten’ I asked

‘No and I don’t really fancy anything thank you’

As I went back down the stairs I noticed a container at the foot of the stairs and whilst thanking my lucky stars I hadn’t trod on it on the way up, I realised that it was her 'meals on wheels' dinner from lunchtime, untouched. So I made a sandwich with a cup of tea and left it by her bedside just in case she was peckish later.

The next day I happened to be asked to go and see Babs again. This time the front door key was in the key safe and I found Babs downstairs watching television. Whilst I was pleased to see her up and about, I noticed with regret that another meal was sitting at the foot of the stairs and my sandwich from the night before was in the bin.

‘What would you like to eat’ I said,

Again I got a negative reply but this time I wanted to watch her eat, so I made a sandwich with a cup of tea and put it on her lap.

‘I don’t want anything to eat’ came the immediate response.

‘I know’ I replied, as I pulled up a chair in front of her and asked ‘How did you meet your husband?’

From that point on there was no stopping her as she talked about her family and past life whilst I sat and listened. Admittedly the conversation did go round in circles a bit, but every now and then I would let my eyes drift briefly towards the plate and she would take a bite from the sandwich; by the time I left thirty minutes later the plate was empty. The power of suggestion is a wonderful thing.