Caring for frail neighbors can save lives during weather disasters. This week the #bombcyclone put our village through a week of the coldest weather I can remember. Today the temperature rose from MINUS 5 Fahrenheit to 18 degrees. Yet, somehow it actually felt warm!
When my mom was here, I suffered from a sense of desperate loneliness during weather events like this. Even though we usually had enough fuel and food, the people who supported us could not get to our house. Snow, ice, and school cancellations kept them at home. Now that mom is receiving care in a 24-hour setting, I don’t face the same barriers and isolation. Though I’m often sad about her absence, I now have more time to help others living around me.
There are several older neighbors in my community who suffer from serious health problems. Mary, for example, lives on the lane behind our property. She took care of her sick husband for many years. He had multiple heart operations with many different complications. Like me, she suffered shoulder dislocations from lifting a loved one when there was no one available to help. Mary served as a home #caregiver who looked after her husband until the very end of his life.
Mary also helped me on many occasions during my mother’s illness. Hardship never stole her sense of humor or spiritual faith. But now she’s the one suffering from health problems. Despite her physical limitations, Mary hates to ask for help. Like so many elders, she won’t admit when she needs assistance.
When caring for frail neighbors or family
It’s easy to think that elders turn down offers of help because they’re being proud or stubborn. But an interesting research study from the University of Oregon helps explain why many elderly people refuse aid from people who care about them. Professor Michelle Barnhart found that elders were less likely to accept help if the person offering assistance made them feel old.
According to Barnhart,”Almost every stereotype we associate with being elderly is something negative, from being ‘crotchety’ and unwilling to change to being forgetful. Conflicts come up when someone does not think of themselves as old — but people in their family or caregiving group are treating them as such.”
The findings from this research can be very helpful when you’re reaching out to an older friend or family member. When my mom first got sick, she got furious the day I suggested she get involved in something fun at the Senior Center. Why? Because Senior Centers are for old people! So as you check in on the elders in your life — whether you’re worried about their memory or their food supply — try to offer help in a way that treats their age as a well-kept secret.
Caregiver experience can be acquired by anyone working with a dementia patient. Caregiver wisdom is something else entirely. People can learn the mechanics of the job without getting any wiser about the disease or the human condition. How can we transform our experience into wisdom?
Can you find the hummingbird in this photo?
Merriam Webster says experience is “something personally encountered, undergone, or lived through.” Caregivers experience the challenge of communicating with those who can’t speak. We feel the exertion of helping people who can’t move. The smelly reality of incontinence is part of daily life. But just witnessing these things doesn’t make us wise. Some get the job done by going through the motions without ever seeing the deeper truths in front of us.
The word wisdom has many meanings. But the definition of wisdom that applies here is the “ability to discern inner qualities and relationships; insight.” In the past eight years, I’ve observed aides in residential care settings, senior programs, and in my home. I’ve also tried to examine my own behavior as my mother’s disease progressed and I logged years of “experience.” The wisest, most effective caregivers are often people with a personal connection to someone with dementia. Their workplace compassion has deep roots.
About a month ago, an aide visited my mom. She was subbing for someone who had a sudden emergency. Before I explained anything about my mom’s routine, she sat at my mother’s side and held her hand. This simple gesture was so calming to my mom. It was like the aide performed a magic trick. I later learned that for years she’d taken care of a grandmother with dementia.
Something happens when you’re close to this disease for a long time. If you really pay attention, you can see behavior patterns occurring below the surface of basic interactions. You start to notice how subtle changes in your behavior can have a deeper impact on the person in your care. My mom, for example, really trusts me and will often cooperate more if I reach her through touch and tone of voice before attempting some task. I was not always so careful with her. But over time I’ve learned that she responds much better when I’m truly attentive.
It’s very hard to give that much focus to an entire unit of patients with extreme needs. I feel sorry for caregivers employed in overcrowded settings. Many of them are too overwhelmed to provide the proper level of care. But I don’t have a lot of sympathy for slackers working in a situation that could make them much wiser if they paid some attention. There are definitely employees in elder care settings who neglect vulnerable people without thinking. Given the rising number of dementia cases across the country, I think we need to start asking public officials and health care policy makers to hold providers to a higher performance standard. As the number of dementia patients increases, our society must develop a system of care driven by wisdom from families and professionals who truly understand the disease. Are there any signs of progress in your neck of the woods?