Finding Home Again: Transitioning to Memory Care
“Advisors, consultants, care managers, counselors, assistants, educators, guides,” we Aging Life Care specialists go by many names, including “nameless.” “Oh, I never knew you kind of people existed.” However we are referenced, our goal remains constant; guiding and supporting families as they journey through life’s transitions.
These transitions are as varied as the families we help. Each life passage brings its own challenges. This care manager recently assisted a family as they transitioned their father, Jim, from assisted living to a memory unit. The reasons for this move were varied: the caregivers outlived their helpfulness, an exhausted spouse, a son who questioned if he was doing right by his father and a husband, father, and grandfather, whose dementia was out pacing the stimulation, socialization and specialized attention that a memory unit could provide.
The transition came with questioning, requestioning and guilt. Thoughts and feelings that are frequently precursors to such a move. This care manager’s guidance to the family, beyond supporting their decision, was to validate what they were feeling. It was a life changing transition that was about to take place.
I recommended that they wait a day or two before the move to tell Jim. The reason for the for the relocation did not have to be a truthful one, “fiblets” as we call them. White lies that have as their goal the safety of a loved one and maintaining or improving the quality of Jim’s life. I also reminded them that change is challenging, but such a modification could potentially improve the quality of Jim’s life, reduce his wife’s burnout and restore a sense of all around balance to the family.
But lest I be dubbed a care manager wearing rose colored glasses, it was my responsibility to also prepare the family for the challenges ahead. I helped them to recognize that Jim’s environment and routine were about to be disrupted. Dementia behaviors could temporarily worsen. From the beginning, we worked together to help the memory staff understand Jim’s baseline. His previous routine, activities and foods he enjoyed, actions that could trigger unwanted behaviors and interventions that would help to soothe him. While memory units vary as to whether family members can visit in the first few weeks, this residence had no restrictions. Primary in my mind was Jim’s wife. She continued to reside in the same building in another section that housed both independent and assisted living residents.
Sara was Jim’s wife of almost sixty years. She faced her own unique anxiety about her husband’s move. She was afraid to visit him. In our day to day lives, logic dictates our expected way of thinking. But such thinking loses its centrality when it comes to people experiencing dementia. “He will be angry with me for moving him.” “He will not recognize me.” “What if he wants to go home?” I helped Sara learn about her husband’s reality. It was no longer the same as her’s. What it consisted of we learned together as either her son or I accompanied her on those early visits. Jim’s world continued to have Sara by his side no matter where she was. Sixty plus years together was not taking Sara away.
John Kabat Zinn, a pioneer in the practice of mindfulness wrote: “You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.” And so, it has been for this family, they are learning to surf. Sara now visits Jim daily, unaccompanied. Their son sings with his father at music concerts, and Jim, a lifelong birder, proudly identifies the goldfinch print that decorates a wall of the residence, often hand in hand with Sara.