It was Thanksgiving at 4:50 pm. I arrived for my shift of 14 hours and called on my cell phone to let my employer know I had arrived. However, instead of hearing the familiar, “Hello,” on the other end of the line, I heard the garage door softly rumble open, and then the hysterical howling of my client crying out for her father’s help (now-long since deceased) in Italian amongst sharp, fast breaths, cries at the top of her lungs, and a torrent of torment and tears. These sounds greeted me Thanksgiving evening as I arrived for an unexpected shift in consciousness.
I immediately went to her, hugged her, and assured her I was there to help her and care for her. Amidst the pandemonium, my employer communicated to me that I should take my client for a drive. Together we made the trip safe and ready. I went and fetched the car keys and the garage door opener. My employer checked to see if I had the correct keys, and the garage door opener was functioning properly. I got my client in the car whence her daughter went to fetch her mother a sweater, a blanket, and her mother’s water bottle. I moved my car whence her daughter fastened her mother’s seat belt, turned the car’s heaters on, and locked the passenger door. My employer explained that she had taken the maximum dosage of medication to alleviate her symptoms of Alzheimer’s. Within five minutes, we were driving.
I continued to speak to my client softly in Italian, the little I learned from my client over the years I have been with her. Slowly, she stopped howling and became very quiet, and just listened to me. After about half an hour of driving, I knew she felt better because she asked me why we stopped (in Italian) after we had come upon a red light. Then she asked me if I knew where I was going and if I could get there by myself. I assured her I knew where we were going and that I was well versed in following directions.
Then we started to talk in our normal way of conversing. We were home within the hour. My client’s daughter was still at home when we arrived. My client then became reticent once again upon entering her home. My employer told me she had not eaten the entire day. After my employer left, we started to listen to music, talk, and my client was no longer exhibiting any signs of negative, hysterical, or alienated behavior. I made her a Thanksgiving meal, and after her meal, which she thoroughly enjoyed and for which she showed immense appreciation by verbally thanking me repeatedly as she ate. She then stated she was tired, and I put her to bed after helping her change her protective undergarments and her pajamas; top and bottom. She let me lovingly put her to bed. She fell asleep very quickly by 7:50 pm, only three hours after her moments of heightened hysteria.
My client woke up at 1:30 am hungry. I gave her an apple, and she ate it with great relish. I put Christmas music on and began to dance. She was delighted and fell asleep in the recliner for about two hours. She woke up at 3:00 am again, and she said she was hungry. I made her a cheese sandwich with applesauce. She kept commenting on how good it tasted. To me, this was my Thanksgiving meal as I witnessed my client move out of a painful mental experience into one of contentment, satisfaction, and relaxation. After this second snack, she wanted to get back in her bed. Again, I comforted her like one would comfort a child before retiring. Growing up in Italy, she was from an impoverished family and never had a doll. I showed her Robin Hood, a little doll that her granddaughter gave her some time ago, of which she is very fond. I played with the doll in front of her whilst she was lying down. It made her very happy. She fell asleep content and woke up just as content, just in time for me to say goodbye before my shift ended. We were able to listen to a few Christmas songs, and then she saw me to the door whence her granddaughter arrived for the next shift.
Bottom line, when one works with an Alzheimer’s patient at the moment of crisis, it is important to think fast and react well for the patient’s comfort. It is good when team members are experienced with the idiosyncratic behaviors of a particular Alzheimer’s patient. All patients will be different because of where they are in the disease’s progression, their individual past traumas, and their current modes of anxiety release. I was thankful on Thanksgiving day that I was a part of a team that truly cares about the mental comfort of the team’s Alzheimer’s patient. I was thankful that my client was able to find contentment and comfort before retiring and upon awakening. With Alzheimer’s, it is one day at a time, one hour at a time, and as this story expresses sometimes, it is taking it to minute by minute, moment by moment, and praying you are acting and reacting so that the patient finds a level of relaxation and mental calm. My prayer was answered this Thanksgiving 2020!
April Cares 