Sometimes, the experiments don’t work.

One of the things I see touted on different sites is this or that drug to aid in the treatment of Alzheimer’s. Which is fine, though sometimes I wonder whether such comments are ‘astroturf‘ (actually advertisements for a company). Sometimes, these drugs can be a huge help.

But sometimes, the experiments don’t work. Here’s an excerpt from “July: Coming to terms” titled ‘Drug Problems’, which was originally an email I sent family members. We had started Martha Sr on a drug called Aricept, something her neurologist recommended. As the dosage ramped up according to instructions, we ran into problems:

In the last few weeks Martha Sr has been becoming increasingly hostile in her behavior towards me. This usually manifests anytime I ask her to use her walker correctly, to continue eating a meal when she’s become distracted, or to use her hands to support herself while sitting down, or to call when she is ready to rise from the toilet or get up from bed, et cetera. (Please note, she doesn’t always do this, but it is during these times that the hostility shows up.) At first, it was just a dismissive attitude, then it went to snide responses, then to challenges to my requests, and so forth. Initially I was able to just calmly explain that I’m asking her to do these things for her own safety, and that was that. But that became less likely to resolve her hostility as time went on. This evening, we had the first instance of actual combativeness, to the extent that she even tried to actually bite me. I was, of course, in no danger, and didn’t need to do anything other than move away from her. But the fact that she actually attempted this was significant.

This change in behavior, and increasing difficulties in our cajoling her to eat properly, seems to correspond to the time she started taking the Aricept (an Alzheimer’s drug to reduce memory loss and maintain cognitive function). The two things may not be related, but the timing is a cause for concern in my mind. It may be best to take her off the drug, see if the behavior changes. We will discuss it with Dr. M.

Dr. M was Martha Sr’s primary care physician, and we always had an excellent relationship with him. We did discuss it shortly thereafter, and he told us to take her off the drug. The change was remarkable, and almost immediate – within 24 hours of the last dose, she was back to her usual charming and cooperative (if confused) self.

That’s not to say that Aricept is a bad drug. Not at all. I know others who have found it to help their loved ones to a great extent.

But it is to say that you have to closely monitor these things, and keep track of possible problems. Sometimes, the experiments just don’t work – every person is different, and responds differently to a particular drug or therapy.

Jim D.

And the illusions we create.

Something of a companion piece to yesterday’s entry. This is an excerpt from a blog post about two weeks before Martha Sr’s death, which can also be found in “November: Endgame” in our book:

"What do you need, Martha?"

"I need to call my mother."

I go get her cordless phone, dial the number and hand it to her while the phone is still ringing. Someone answers on the other end.

It is a brief conversation. She just wants to let her mom know that she is all right, not to worry. The voice on the other end reassures her, tells her to wait until she comes for her. She hands the phone back to me, and I disconnect. She is happy.

My wife and I had set this up weeks ago, in the event that the occasion would come that we needed it. Simple, really - an incoming call to my wife's cell phone from Martha Sr's number would be the cue that her mom needed this kind of reassurance. No need for me to say anything, contributing to the illusion.

There are many ways to provide comfort to someone with dementia. Sometimes you just have to be a bit creative with reality.

Jim D.

The lies we tell.

An excerpt from something I wrote four years ago, which is now in “October: Hospice or Placement?” in Her Final Year:

I'm an atheist. I also have little belief in any kind of soul or 'life after death'. I try and be completely honest, yet not obnoxious about my beliefs. Yet when the other day Martha Sr looked at me and said that she was worried about her parents missing her, I told her that they left a message for us to care for her until they came to get her.

"To take me with them?"

"That's right."

"Up to heaven?"

"Yes."

Why did I say this? Because she smiled happily at me when I did.

This perhaps is one of the more difficult things for people who are care-givers for someone with dementia to adjust to doing (and it took us longer than it should have). After some point, you don’t want to contradict or “keep grounded in reality” – for the dementia sufferer, what they understand of the world *is* reality. You just have to learn to roll with that, as best you can.

Jim D.

Be gentle.

Yesterday there was a nice Q&A in my local paper about Her Final Year. Here’s an excerpt:

Tribune: Could you share a few "takeaway tips" that might be sound bites for other caregivers to remember?

Downey: Well, there are better resources out there for this sort of thing - our local Alzheimer's Association chapter has a lot of good material and information. And, in a way, that's probably the most important thing to say to another caregiver: get help. Get as much help and information as you can. Inform yourself, try and understand what you are facing as much as you can.

Beyond that, be gentle with yourself. That's one of the main reasons we wrote this book the way we did: We all make mistakes when caregiving, and it is important to know that. You get angry. You say and do things you will later regret. You forget things you shouldn't forget. It happens - as is shown to an embarrassing degree in our book. You have to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, forgive your lapse, and get on with care-giving.

Care-givers too often forget that they have to treat themselves with gentleness for being human. Remember, if you constantly beat yourself up, you will become less effective as a care-provider. So even if you won’t be gentle for yourself, do it for the person you are caring for.

Jim D.

Idle Hands

Crossposted to CareGiving Kos: Idle Hands.

Most of us have heard some variant of this:

Idle hands are the devils workshop, and an idle mind is his playground.

When it comes to Alzheimer’s Disease, that phrase (or variants thereof) can take on new life.

On Wednesday, 7 September 2011, I posted a piece called CareGiving Kos: Open Thread for CareGivers – Activity Time. The purpose was to get folks discussing the various means & methods with which they engaged their loved ones in order to help them feel connected, involved, loved and valued as a contributing member of the family. Any, or all, of those above elements. Today, I’m continuing the theme. There were several activities that I would get Georgia (a.k.a. “Mumsie”) involved in that helped keep her busy and feeling valued.

Currently, there is no known or definitive way to actually prevent Alzheimer’s Disease, or to stop its progression once it has begun. That said, there are several things that can be done that can reduce risk factors identified as causes or catalysts, and there are things that can be done that are believed to mitigate the rate of progression through various stages. From the Alzheimer’s Association page on Prevention and Risk:

Experts agree that Alzheimer’s, like other common chronic conditions, usually develops as a result of complex interactions among multiple factors, including age, genetics, environment and lifestyle, and coexisting medical conditions. While there is nothing an individual can do to change some risk factors — like age or genetics — research in these areas may lead to new ways to detect those at risk and offer preventive treatments.

The information on the page touches on several factors potentially influencing the onset & progression of Alzheimer’s Disease that we’ll touch on in today’s post and some in future posts. Those categories include:

  • Heart-Head connections
  • Brain Food
  • Diet and Exercise
  • Social & Intellectual stimulation
  • Head Trauma

Today’s post will focus on some forms of social and intellectual stimulation.

Physical Activities

Physical activities can help reduce the risk of, or possibly delay, the onset of Alzheimer’s Disease and some other forms of cognitive impairment. A recent article in Science Daily cited walking – for those who are able to walk – can have a significant impact:

ScienceDaily (Jan. 2, 2011) — Walking may slow cognitive decline in adults with mild cognitive impairment (MCI) and Alzheimer’s disease, as well as in healthy adults, according to a study presented November 29 at the annual meeting of the Radiological Society of North America (RSNA).

The findings showed across the board that greater amounts of physical activity were associated with greater brain volume. Cognitively impaired people needed to walk at least 58 city blocks, or approximately five miles, per week to maintain brain volume and slow cognitive decline. The healthy adults needed to walk at least 72 city blocks, or six miles, per week to maintain brain volume and significantly reduce their risk for cognitive decline.

We noticed that Georgia liked walking – not only did it help her get out and about, but she particularly enjoyed the walks she would take with Missy the Woo, our aged Alaskan Malamute. (Pets can play a very positive role in care-giving. Watch for more information on this topic.)

Other forms of physical activities that have been found to have a significant impact on reducing cognitive decline are routine activities:

Those who burned more than 1,000 calories per day were 91 percent less likely to experience declines in memory, concentration and language abilities after five years than less-active people. What’s more, most of those burned calories stemmed from routine tasks–taking care of relatives, volunteering, and keeping busy around the house. Only 18 percent of the high-burners reported doing vigorous exercise.

“Keeping busy around the house” can translate into a lot of different things: for us, working with Georgia to help her help out by staging certain tasks (assisting her with the laundry by dividing out the clothes for her, helping her carry them and keeping an eye on her when she’d fold ‘em, or helping her by staging a small area of a room for her to vacuum while helping her avoid tripping on the cord & helping to position the vacuum) served not only to help Georgia remain occupied – it also provided us a way to redirect her energies and our care-giving into trying to ensure the house didn’t get completely out of control. (Well, it worked for a while, at least.)

Other things we did to keep her mind engaged and still feel useful included gathering up loose change and putting it together into the appropriate rolls, then counting the money. Sometimes, this also included trips to the bank, and once in a while trips shopping after the bank.

Other tasks included staging food preparations for meals; we could have fairly complex meals that Georgia & I would prepare for Kathi, provided we broke them down into manageable parts – and provided that I maintained a vigilant eye while Georgia took on her tasks. There were several reasons for this: not only to ensure that the right task was performed in the right way at the appropriate time, but to also ensure that Georgia didn’t sustain any injuries (either from equipment or spices) and that the food wasn’t contaminated. We’d wash our hands before, and sometimes during, preparation, and all that “stuff” that helps ensure good hygiene.

If we hit a snag in our mid-day or evening schedules (and later, we’d intentionally schedule these elements), we began to do artsy-craftsy sorts of things.

I’d picked up some plain, pre-constructed wooden boxes that we could color using paints or stain & paint pens, and then we could decorate them by gluing on strips of leather or affixing small mirrors & pieces of felt…

Sometimes, we’d draw & paint or sketch.

And occasionally, Georgia would insist on proofreading and helping to edit some of my stories.

Summary
More ongoing studies provide continuing and evolving evidence about factors affecting our health that could have a significant impact on cognitive decline & the onset of Alzheimer’s Disease. One study recently cited seven factors that, if controlled, could significantly reduce one’s chance of developing Alzheimer’s Disease. Those factors were smoking, physical activity, mental activity, blood pressure, diabetes, obesity and depression.

To my untrained eye, several of those factors (most? all?) interact to some degree – managing diet & exercise, quitting smoking and keeping one’s mind engaged are all what I consider mainstays of normal healthy living anyway.

If we work to reinforce such elements in our lives, and to help ensure that our social, healthcare & economic infrastructures (on local, state & federal levels) all help us to strengthen the positive reinforcement of those factors in our lives, we could make great strides in overall health & well-being alone.

But, enough now – tell us: what kinds of activities are you engaged in, and have you found useful as part of your own care-giving role?

There’s good news, and there’s bad news…

Yesterday we did our first Facebook ad. Yeah, on the same day that without warning FB rolled out some big changes to the format which had everyone annoyed and pre-occupied. Do I have good timing, or what?

So, we had almost 290,000 ‘impressions’ (the number of times that the ad was placed on someone’s FB News Feed). And a grand total of 28 people clicked on our ad, resulting in exactly *one* additional sale. Woo-hoo!

That’s the bad news. The good news was this item:

Honoring two women on World Alzheimer’s Day

Today, September 21, marks World Alzheimer’s Day, a branch of Alzheimer’s Disease International; the organization is now in its 27th year. Earlier this year, former Tribune writer Jim Downey published a book with his friend John Bourke, “Her Final Year,” detailing the ins and outs of caregiving for their respective mothers-in-law as each woman’s mind deteriorated from Alzheimer’s disease. The book – which grew out of the blogs and emails of each man and their wives, Martha Jr and Kathi – is an honest, funny, heart-wrenching and sincere look at what it truly means to care for someone you love, especially when it is hard to see the person you love slowly fading away.

I mentioned the upcoming article the other day, and that I thought that Ms. Hicks had done a good job with her interview of me. And now it looks like the article will be a pretty good feature this coming Sunday in their Ovation section. Watch for it!

Jim D.

“Oh, one more thing…”

I spent a chunk of time over the weekend putting together answers to a series of questions posed by a features writer for the local paper. They’re doing a piece about Her Final Year in conjunction with coverage of World Alzheimer’s Action Day.

It was a good group of questions, and reflected her having informed herself of the issues around care-giving as well as being familiar with the book. It was easy to answer the questions directly and completely, and this morning I got a nice note back from her thanking me for taking the time to respond. She also did one smart thing which not all reporters do – in fact, when I was writing columns for the paper, I didn’t always think to do it when I was doing a profile of an artist – she asked me if there was anything else which should have been asked or that she missed.

I breezed past the question this morning, but it settled in my subconscious. And as I was working on some conservation work this afternoon, it popped up again, complete with an answer, which I sent off to the reporter:

One thing which I don’t think came up, thought I’d mention: as noted on our website, we’ve made a commitment to donate $1 from each sale of the book (either Kindle or paperback) to support programs for care-givers, Alzheimer’s/dementia research, et cetera. Depending on how the book does, we’ll split that up between worthwhile local and national organizations.

I forget to mention this sometimes, though it is actually something we think is very important, and could make a real difference if the book does well. Guess I’m not the marketing guru people sometimes think I am, since this is actually a good selling point for the book. So, order your copy today, and know that you’re not just getting a good book – you’re helping to make a difference, one dollar at a time.

Jim D.

Ignorance.

I posted this Quote of the Day item as a comment on John’s Facebook thread about yesterday’s “

“Beware of the man who works hard to learn something, learns it, and finds himself no wiser than before… He is full of murderous resentment of people who are ignorant without having come by their ignorance the hard way.

– Kurt Vonnegut, “Cat’s Cradle”

Why? Well, in part because John (and most other people who heard it, including me) was understandably outraged about Mr. Robertson’s statement about divorcing a spouse who had Alzheimer’s. The simple ignorance of the statement is absolutely infuriating.

But I also posted it in recognition of something else I have learned: that I haven’t learned much about Alzheimer’s.

I should not say that. I have a book to sell, after all, one that I do honestly believe can help people. I want to see that book become a bestseller. I want it to become a reference for anyone who is in a care-giving role, and an insight into what it is like to be a care-giver for all their friends and family who are unsure how to react to their situation. I think that can really help matters for all concerned. And there are millions of people who are (or should be) concerned.

So I shouldn’t say that I haven’t learned much about Alzheimer’s. It undercuts my ‘authority’ as an author. It compromises the image of trust that I should work to build in the audience. It means that I can’t pull off the idea of being an ‘expert’ in the minds of the media elite who can help to promote our book and turn it into a success.

But I can’t lie about this. In fact, it may well be the deepest lesson to come out of the entire experience of caring for Martha Sr, then working hard for two and a half years to write this book: you do not “learn” about Alzheimer’s, or dementia, or being a care-giver by going through this.

Rather, you grow.

You grow to understand that there are few universal truths about care-giving someone with dementia. Yes, there are skills you acquire, and there are some excellent resources out there that can help. And I did learn things about the disease, and good nursing techniques, and even about myself. But I am not an expert on Alzheimer’s. Nor dementia. Nor care-giving.

You grow in ways which are not intellectual. Which cannot be readily taught, or summarized in a blog post or a powerpoint presentation or a tweet. Well, can’t be summarized by me, anyway. That’s why the book is over 400 pages long, made up of hundreds of individual entries, moments of experience, built over time. It’s growth, like a tree grows. That’s not intellectual. That’s not knowledge.

So yes, in some ways I remain ignorant. And I rage when others who have not been through this experience demonstrate their own ignorance, as Mr. Robertson did the other day.

But I hope. I hope that they will read our book. Share our experience. Maybe it will help them understand, before they go through the experience, themselves.

Jim D.

(Cross posted to my personal blog.)

And who will that be?

You’ve probably already heard about this:

Pat Robertson says Alzheimer’s makes divorce OK

Religious broadcaster Pat Robertson told his “700 Club” viewers that divorcing a spouse with Alzheimer’s is justifiable because the disease is “a kind of death.”

During the portion of the show where the one-time Republican presidential candidate takes questions from viewers, Robertson was asked what advice a man should give to a friend who began seeing another woman after his wife started suffering from the incurable neurological disorder.

“I know it sounds cruel, but if he’s going to do something, he should divorce her and start all over again, but make sure she has custodial care and somebody looking after her,” Robertson said.

“Make sure she has custodial care and somebody looking after her.” And who would that be, Mr. Robertson?

Chances are, it’s family:

An estimated 5.4 million Americans have Alzheimer’s or similar dementias. It’s the sixth-leading killer. There is no cure; treatments only temporarily ease some symptoms. Barring a research breakthrough, those numbers will worsen steadily as the baby boomers gray: By 2050, anywhere from 13 million to 16 million Americans are projected to have Alzheimer’s, costing a $1 trillion in medical and nursing home expenditures.

But that’s not the full toll. Sufferers lose the ability to do the simplest activities of daily life and can survive that way for a decade or more, requiring years of care from family, friends or paid caregivers. Already a recent report finds that nearly 15 million people, mostly family members, are providing more than $200 billion worth of unpaid care.

That’s from a story in Time about a new, upcoming National Plan for Alzheimer’s. Because of the scope of the problem, the Obama administration is trying to come up with ways to help both research into a cure (or at least better treatments) as well as ways to aid family care-providers. From the same Time article:

“This is a unique opportunity, maybe an opportunity of a lifetime in a sense, to really have an impact on this disease,” says Dr. Ronald Petersen of the Mayo Clinic, who chairs a committee that later this month begins advising the government on what that plan should include.

They hope to have the first draft of the plan by December.

Jim D.

The stories we tell.

Saturday afternoon they announced a new “Three Minute Fiction” contest on NPR. Here’s a bit about the theme this time around:

Round 7 Rules

Your story must have somebody arriving in town and somebody leaving town.

Your story must be 600 words or fewer. One entry per person. your deadline is 11:59 p.m. ET on Sunday, Sept. 25.

* * * * * * *

Had a nice bump up in downloads of Communion of Dreams so far this month. About 270 copies already. I’ve really stopped keeping track, but that puts it somewhere about 32,000 downloads so far.

Which has gotten me thinking. After going through and preparing the manuscript to self-publish Her Final Year, I know what is involved in that. It’d be simplicity itself to set things up to self-publish CoD. Given that I haven’t heard squat from Trapdoor books about publishing the book since the start of the year, I’ve given up on that possibility.

Then again, I am very disappointed in the sales of Her Final Year, since we’ve only sold about 10% of what we needed to sell in order to just break even on the costs of setting that up. I mean, we’re talking only a couple of dozen books so far. Damned depressing, especially given how much everyone has said that there is a huge need for the book and how good it is.

So, is it worth it? Would you actually buy a copy of Communion of Dreams?

And can I actually trust that?

* * * * * * *

There was an interesting item on Morning Edition this morning, about a relatively new kind of psychotherapy in use with people facing the end of life. It’s called Dignity Therapy. Here’s an excerpt from the story:

The something that Chochenoff decided to create was a formal written narrative of the patient’s life – a document that could be passed on to whomever they chose. The patients would be asked a series of questions about their life history and the parts they remember most or think are most important. Their answers would be transcribed and presented to them for editing until, after going back and forth with the therapist, a polished document resulted that could be passed on to the people that they loved.

Chochenoff named this process dignity therapy, and for the last 10 years he has used it with the dying. And one of the things that has struck him about the processes is this: The stories we tell about ourselves at the end of our lives are often very different than the stories that we tell about ourselves at other points.

“When you are standing at death’s door and you have a chance to say something to someone, I absolutely think that that proximity to death is going to influence the words that come out of your mouth,” Chochenoff says.

* * * * * * *

I by-and-large hid from all the 9/11 memorials over the weekend.

I have plenty of experience in dealing with traumatic loss. For me, remembering a loved one who has died is important, but so is moving on with life. And I can’t do that by constantly poking at the empty place left in my heart.

I know that I am different from most people in this way. Or at least I assume that I am, based on what I see. And I’m not just talking about the 9/11 memorials all weekend.

Recently, I was contacted by a gentleman who was doing some research for an ‘online memorial’ site. He wanted some details on my father’s death, along with specifics as to his burial location and my mom’s. He was polite about it, but somewhat surprisingly insistent almost to the point of annoyance.

I found this odd, and did a little checking. Turns out this fellow is part of something I call “competitive memorializing” – there’s a whole online community of these folks, who just like trying to see how many such memorials that they can create. Not for loved ones, or people they knew, either. Just total strangers who they for whatever reason decide they should “memorialize.” Who knew?

And here’s a small confession: I didn’t have most of the information this fellow was wanting. It’s just not important to me to remember my dad that way. His body was just a shell – it was what his life was that matters.

* * * * * * *

Saturday afternoon they announced a new “Three Minute Fiction” contest on NPR. Here’s a bit about the theme this time around:

Round 7 Rules

Your story must have somebody arriving in town and somebody leaving town.

Your story must be 600 words or fewer. One entry per person. your deadline is 11:59 p.m. ET on Sunday, Sept. 25.

I have some thoughts on this, tied to the ideas of memory and memorials and the things I have said above.

Because the stories we tell are important.

Jim Downey

(Cross posted to my personal blog.)