I’ve been here for less than ten minutes and already I feel exhausted. Like every Sunday morning, my dad, mom, my younger sister Kasey and I climb into our old, black Chevy energized from breakfast to make the trek up to Appleton. While there, we visit with my grandma. When standing, her curly, white hair just skims the tops of my shoulders. Today, she is neatly dressed in her usual pastel sweater and her painted nails. Despite the fact that we love her unconditionally, and as terrible as it is to say, it is mentally and emotionally exhausting to visit her lately. “Now which one are you?” My grandma curiously inquires while motioning towards me. “This is your granddaughter, Karley,” my dad reminds her. “How was breakfast mom?” “Breakfast was fine,” she quietly replies. “Father is gone fishing.” When my grandma refers to “father” she means my grandpa, that’s what she always calls him. These visits wouldn’t be quite as exhausting if my grandpa was really just fishing. My grandma raised four faithful, kind, hard-working children. She dealt with and defeated breast cancer. For sixty plus years, my grandma and grandpa stayed lovingly married to each other. She attended church every Sunday and offered her endless support to all in need of it, especially her family. About a year ago, my grandma could be found relaxing in the Appleton Retirement Community completing puzzles, chatting with friends and watching Wheel of Fortune. Yes, my grandma was aging as human nature requires. However, she was in relatively good health despite the fact that she enjoyed a few more McDonald’s milkshakes than a doctor would recommend. Unexpectedly, my grandma suffered a minor stroke. When we all visited her after this first stroke, she was still in good... ... middle of paper ... ...etting old. My dad would even kid around with her saying it was my birthday when it wasn’t just to keep her on her toes or something of that sort. She used to know when he was teasing her, and now she hasn’t the slightest idea unless it’s a good day. Perhaps even sadder than her seeing my deceased grandpa, is the fact that sometimes she knows she’s losing her mind. On really bad days, she asks us why she’s still here living like she is. As her granddaughter, the situation is tough enough; however, I can’t imagine how bizarre and painful it is for my dad and his siblings to watch my grandma’s mind manipulate betray her. Dementia is cruel, and hard to understand. I wouldn’t wish this disease on anyone. On the bright side, loving someone with dementia has taught me a valuable lesson. Always do everything you can to be there for those you love, even if it’s just fishing.
The story of Miss. Julianne took me to my childhood. When I was 13-14 years, my Nana was also suffering from dementia at that point. I was too young at that point to understand his situation, now in nursing I am learning about different diseases and how patients react to those particular situations, I can relate more to his pain and understand from what he was going through. As in the story Miss Julianne forgets things, as she said, “Where are my dentures?” (Lenar, K., 2016,), and she blames others, “and
Mrs. Nancy Hamilton (changed name for privacy) is 95 years old female who resides in a local continued care retirement community (CCRC) located in the Los Angeles County. I decided to interview Mrs. Hamilton for her successful aging. I have known her for 9 years and her aging process has not been an easy ride but she always maintained a positive sprit that kept her going even today. Mrs. Hamilton moved in to a CCRC in 2006, two years after her husband passed away. Mrs. Hamilton has one daughter and one son. Daughter Margaret lives nearby and visits frequently and takes care of personally needs such as transportation to medical appointments or shopping for skin care products or clothes as necessary. Son, David lives in the Northern California and visits a few times a year.
Dementia is the loss of a person’s mental skills from their daily routines. The symptoms of dementia could easily be over looked, they include forgetting things, daily routines are hard to complete, misplacing things, depression, aggravation and aggression, emotion are high, even feeling like someone is a threat to their life (Web MD,2012). Caring for someone with dementia can be difficult if with resources like healthcare, living facilities, nursing homes and medicine is involved, but sometimes healthcare and facilities do not provide the proper care. This disease is very common in the elderly community past the age of sixty-five. Finding out that a loved
Dementia is a difficult disease to understand and handle. A major problem involving these patients are caregivers that are not properly trained and educated to care for people with the disease resulting in issues such as neglect and abuse.
A week before Christmas in 2013, my stepfather suddenly lost consciousness. His body stiffened and he began to violently convulse – he was having a seizure. Later in the hospital, the doctors informed us that my stepdad had suffered a hemorrhagic stroke. The anguish that I felt that night was eased by a nurse who talked to my family about my stepfather’s condition and assured us that the hospital would do everything that they can to assist him with recovery. The next few weeks were filled with uncertainty as my stepdad laid comatose, no knowledge of when or even if he would wake up. During that time, my interactions with the nurses always made me feel safe and comforted Unfortunately, he passed away in January 2014. Though this was a traumatic and life altering experience, what I remember most are the nurses that provided care to my stepfather. They went above and beyond their outlined job duties to care for my loved one and to make my family feel secure even in such a difficult time.
She has a history of hypertension, high cholesterol, acid reflux disease, kidney stones, arthritis and bone spurs on her right shoulder. Additionally, my grandmother has had her gallbladder removed at the age of 51 years old. She has been pregnant two times and has two children, my mother and my uncle. She entered menopause at the age of 42 years old. My maternal grandfather, who is 76 years old, was born in Romania. He has a history of kidney stones and hypertension and was diagnosed with a horseshoe kidney. Additionally, my grandfather also had to have surgery for cataracts. My paternal grandmother, died at 78 years old, of a heart attack. She was born in Romania. Her medical history only of consisted of hypertension. She was pregnant only once and had one son, my father. My paternal grandfather, who is 86 years old, was born in Romania. He has a history of colon cancer and no other known medical issues. All my grandparents have no issues with mental conditions. My ethnic background is Romanian and my family never had growth or development
BM is a 63-year-old women born in St. Joseph Missouri. She sustained a right cerebrovascular accident 3 years ago responsible for her left hemiplegia. Since her stroke BM has not been able to independently live on her own, work or care for herself. Due to her health condition she is completely wheelchair bound and is dependent on the caregivers at the assisted living facility where she resides. BM feels that she has lost her independence since her stroke and it has greatly impacted her ability to
Dementia has caused challenges and heartache for many families I have met. A loved one who no longer recognizes you could be difficult to cope with. I have had clients who do not know their own children and are unaware of their surroundings. Even though they have lived in the same home for over 30 years; it is now a strange new place to explore. Closets, bedrooms, and garages that were once frequented are now entered with caution and wonder. Everyday items are puzzles just waiting to be solved. As the disease progresses the harder it is to grasp the present. The past, like an old friend, beckons and comes to life bringing former friends and relatives of long ago, to the surface. Stories of days gone by are repeated and relived over and over. Constantly searching while longing to understand what is happening. Not being able to piece together the answers is frustrating. With frustration comes irritability and sleeplessness turning days into nights and nights into days. Everyday tasks became impossible, confusing, and troublesome. Dementia sometimes goes for years undetected; it is one of the most difficult diseases to diagnose. Because Dementia is an incurable disease that progresses with time we need to be diligent in finding a cure to prevent more victims.
Dementia is classified in three stages. In each stage there are various things caregivers and family members can do to improve the life of their demented loved one. Throughout all three stages of dementia it is important for family members to keep in touch with their loved one. This will make the demented patient feel a sense of belonging and importance. Patients may also benefit from stories, pictures, trinkets, and documents that remind them of the
The story I just told you is what I witnessed my mother go through not too long ago. My grandfather is a victim of the late stages of Alzheimer’s disease.
People that are diagnosed with Dementia have an advanced brain disorder that can make it progressively more difficult for them to think clearly, remember things, communicate to others, or even take care of themselves on their own. I have been personally affected by this disorder through members of my family and that is why this particular lecture caught my attention the most. I didn’t realize how serious this disorder can be and how much it not only impacts a person’s memory loss, but many other aspects of their life. The topics that interested me the most and ones I wanted to learn more about were normal aging memory loss versus symptoms of Dementia, how families cope with a loved one with Dementia, and the difference between Dementia and Alzheimer’s disease.
I slowly opened the front door -- the same old creak echoed its way throughout the old house, announcing my arrival just seconds before I called out, "Grandma!" She appeared around the corner with the normal spring in her steps. Her small but round 5'1" frame scurried up to greet me with a big hug and an exclamation of, "Oh, how good to see you." It was her eighty-fifth birthday today, an amazing feat to me, just part of everyday life to her. The familiar mix of Estee Lauder and old lotion wafted in my direction as she pulled away to "admire how much I've grown." I stopped growing eight years ago, but really, it wasn't worth pointing this fact out. The house, too, smelled the same as it's ever smelled, I imagine, even when my father and his brothers grew up here more than forty years ago -- musty smoke and apple pie blended with the aroma of chocolate chip cookies. The former was my grandfather's contribution, whose habit took him away from us nearly five years ago; the latter, of course, comes from the delectable delights from my grandmother's kitchen. Everything was just as it should be.
It is not like I never see him or talk to him; I do. He has been in and out of my life ever since. Occasionally he calls to say hi or ask how I'm doing; he is never consistent. Our convesations are short and very uncomfortable. When I am out shopping or running errands I sometimes run into him by chance, (or fate who knows). All of our truths and his lies are always there but never talked about. I can't remember the last time he called on my birthday, sometimes I wonder if he even remembers my birthday or even thinks of me when my birthday comes around every year. He never calls on holidays. It is really hard for me to talk to someone who was once my father, and now is a complete stranger. After all the things I know about my father, the strangest feeling I have is under the hurt and the pain, what I hope and pray for is day we might go fishing again.
Two years ago today my great grandmother passed away from old age and suffered from Alzheimer’s disease. Although all of my memories with her are vague, I will never forget the happiness that emanated from her when you were around her. Even in her last days, when she could barely remember her own children, you never saw her without a smile on her face. And that to me is something that I will carry with me for as long as I
Every morning I wake up thinking that she is in the dining room drinking her coffee and watching her favorite TV shows. All of a sudden the truth starts rushing up and I come to realize that it was just a dream which was still hanging around me. In spite of my outward calmness, I felt as if there was a big hole inside me. My grandmother’s death was truly a sobering event and the most traumatic loss in my life. The commemoration of my grandmother will always be with me wherever I go and always tinting my dreams with her gentle smell of rosemary and the glittering silve...