Tag Archives: cognitive decline

The Journey of Grief: A Personal Snapshot

The Journey of Grief: A Personal Snapshot.

Grief

Grief (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Grief – when one experiences a loss, there is no way around this emotion.  It has no clearly defined end.  It manifests itself differently for every individual.  The writer of the above article shares the personal side of how this emotion presented itself in his own life in this continuation of his series of articles on grief.

This “personal snapshot” is a follow up to his first article in the series that addressed an event in ones life for which everyone’s grieving experience takes on a slightly different character.  I  hope you’ll read the article attached above, and his previous article – also available on his website.

Medications: harbinger of cognitive decline?

Why can’t I remember how to use this can opener?

English: A modern-type can opener.

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

How in the world did I get lost driving to the supermarket – a route I drive at least once a week!

My words are getting all jumbled up and my sentences aren’t making sense.

What’s happening to me?

Are you one of the many people who started to take a medication to resolve a condition, or at least to make it better, only to end up with distressing – and life-changing – mild cognitive impairment?

How long did it take for you and your doctor to realize that this horrific change of condition was caused by a medication that was added to your health regimen?

What types of expensive, and grueling, tests did you go through prior to coming to that conclusion?  Did any of you go through neurological testing?

And how long did it take for you to feel “normal” again once you took your doctor’s advice to either go off the medication or replace it with a medication that did not cause cognitive decline?

I am personally aware of several people who experienced cognitive decline after taking the Pfizer drug, Lyrica (pregabalin) – originally intended for neuropathic pain and as an anti-seizure medication, and approved for treatment of fibromyalgia in 2007.  Additionally, cholesterol-lowering  statin medications oftentimes cause the same cognitive outcomes.  And with the Pfizer drug, Lyrica, increased depression – even suicide -  or newly diagnosed depression, were directly linked to the drug, Lyrica.

As Baby Boomers, we’re entering a phase where, depending upon what ails us, we start adding prescription medications to our health regimen in an attempt to have a high degree of health and well-being.

We need to be completely aware of how a medication may affect us, but it’s unfortunate that most of our awareness is dependent upon the Patient Information Sheet provided by the pharmaceutical companies.  These information sheets are sketchy, at best, and carry only half-truths, at worse.

Do you have similar experiences you can share?  We’d like to hear from you because awareness, and education, will help us all.

Visiting a loved one at a long-term care facility.

Your Dad lives in a long-term care (LTC) facility and you’ve found that these visits really take a lot out of you and your Dad.  You’re bored, your Dad is bored, and you’re beginning to wonder if these visits are even worth it.  Do you want some encouraging ideas to make your visits beneficial to everyone involved?  Here are some suggestions that might take the hurt out of the equation.

ACKNOWLEDGE THAT THE LTC FACILITY IS NOW YOUR DAD’S HOME.

Southern Oregon CCRC where my Dad lived.

The longer your Dad lives in this LTC facility, the more it will feel like his home.  That’s a hard pill to swallow when you’re accustomed to visiting him on his home turf.  His new normal is his 200 square foot (if he’s lucky) LTC apartment.  Remember how painful it was for your Dad to move away from the family home to his apartment in the facility?  One can not minimize the difficulty of downsizing a lifetime of emotional attachment to a household of personal objects to a mere few that will fit in his small living space.  Respect for the remaining space allotted to him will go a long way towards making him more comfortable when you invade that space.

HOW I ADJUSTED TO MY DAD’S LTC LIVING SITUATION.

My distingushed Dad in the 1980's.

I would never attempt to offer any advice if I too hadn’t been through what you’re going through.  At the age of 84 my father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.  Dad lived in a Continuing Care Retirement Community (CCRC) in Oregon state.  At the time of his diagnosis he was living in a decently sized one-bedroom apartment “on campus” and for a few years was able to function quite well in that space.  When I visited from Seattle, it was pretty challenging coming up with ways in which to engage him and make my visit a valuable time for him.  He was still active, however, so we went on picnics, took walks, shopped for needed personal items, and our days were filled with purposeful activities.  As his disease progressed, however, he moved to the dementia unit of the CCRC and shared a room with another gentleman who also had dementia.  Now what?  I certainly can’t visit him in his room, and the common areas were populated with other residents who presented challenges to creating a valuable visiting experience for both my father and me.  Visits outside the CCRC campus became more and more difficult as my dad’s ability to function outside of his routine rapidly decreased.  How could just sitting with him in the dementia  unit’s living room make any difference in his day?

IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU – IT’S ABOUT YOUR LOVED ONE.

Well, it is about you, to be sure, but if your loved one’s experience is a good one, chances are your experience will be equally as satisfying.  Depending upon your loved one’s executive function, your activity options may not be limited at first.  You’re still able to take your loved one to movies and museums.  You’re able to go out to dinner and attend family gatherings.  You pick your Dad up, he’s happy to go with you, and your time with him is about as normal as it gets.  If Dad is physically or cognitively impaired, however, your activity options decrease considerably.

BEING PRESENT WHEN YOU’RE PRESENT.

I think you’ll be amazed at how far a smile and a pleasant attitude will go when visiting your parent or other loved one.  You’re of the opinion that you have to be doing, doing, doing to have a successful LTC visit.  If being active is a thing of the past, I encourage you to simply be present when you’re visiting Mom, Dad or your spouse.  Does he still like to read or watch TV?  There’s no reason why he can’t continue to do that while you sit nearby and use your laptop or read a good book.  When was the last time you had nothing but time in which to do so?  Consider this down-time as some sort of blessing in disguise.  Does Dad like certain types of movies – or one in particular – that you can put in the DVD player for his entertainment?  Watch that movie with him even though it’s the 100th time you’ve done so.  It’s difficult for us to define the movie-watching experience as quality time spent with Dad, but for him it may be just what he needs that day.  I know very well how slowly time passes when visiting a loved one whose world has been significantly diminished.  But imagine, if you can, being your Dad’s age and unable to come and go as you please.  When you visit him, you bring the outside world to him and give the day a whole new meaning.

WHY VISIT DAD IF HE DOESN’T RECOGNIZE ME ANYMORE?

This is one of the most challenging times for a son, daughter (or spouse) to go through when our loved one’s cognitive levels continue to decline.  (Please check out other articles on this subject under this Blog’s “Alzheimer’s/Dementia” tab for additional encouragement.) You’ll be doing yourself and your loved one a favor by not trying to force him to recognize you.  The Alzheimer’s Association suggests that it is far easier for you to walk into his or her world than it is for him to be present in yours.  When you walk into his room for a visit, simply announce yourself, “Hi Dad, Irene is here for a visit.”  You don’t even need to qualify your name by saying, “your daughter, Irene.”  Your title is not as important as who you are when you visit him.  Smile.  Speak in a lively tone – not loud, just lively – and let him feel your friendliness and your love.  Caregivers can’t give your loved one the love that you have for him – only you can.  As difficult as it is to seemingly have lost your identity with him – and it truly is difficult – the fact remains that you are his/her daughter/son/spouse and only you can love him like a family member can.

I sure don’t own the franchise on ideas to employ when visiting at a LTC facility.  What has worked for you?  What do you suggest?  Your ideas may be just the thing that helps someone else weather this difficult time.