The Importance of Rhythms for Dementia Patients in Eliminating “Sundowners” and Other “Behaviors”
By Dr. Allen Power, Eden Mentor, St. John’s Home, Rochester, N.Y., Associate Professor of Medicine, University of Rochester
I recently had the pleasure of visiting with an elder who experiences frequent distress in the late afternoon. I was immediately struck by the connection of her anxiety and desire to leave with a lot of change-of-shift activity. This leads me to suggest a larger discussion about the whole concept of what we call “sundowning”.
More and more, I have come to see the term “sundowning” as a classic example of what Dr. Tom Kitwood called positioning, meaning that we blame the distress on the disease, rather than looking for other factors. Consider this scenario:
Whenever I teach a 3-day Eden course, I can guarantee that around 2-3 PM, some of the people in the class will get up, walk around a bit or stand in the back for a while. They are usually nurses and CNAs. Are they sundowning? Agitated? Of course not.
Most day shift nurses and CNAs work from 6 or 7 AM till 2:30 or 3:30, and they are on their feet a lot. But I take them and shift their workday to an 8-5 schedule and make them sit most of the day. I force people into a rhythm that is different from their usual pattern, and by mid-afternoon, their bodies start to rebel.
I suppose I could shift the class to 6a – 3p and create more opportunities for walking around, but instead I schedule it around my own work needs and I usually get so caught up in the process that I don’t think to get people moving around more. Does any of this sound familiar? Welcome to long-term care.
I am going to suggest an alternate idea, which many of you may find a bit challenging to accept at first: Dementia does not cause “sundowning”. We do! Dementia simply “fans the flames” by making people (1) more sensitive to their environment, (2) more easily fatigued, and (3) less able to cope with having their biorhythms shifted into artificial schedules that better suit our nursing home operations.
This is a small distinction, but a very important one. Here’s why: We cannot cure dementia, but we can cure almost all cases of “sundowning” without medication, by shifting operational patterns and staff behavior.
Still not convinced? By happy coincidence, my friend Ann Wyatt of the NYC Alzheimer’s Association just sent me an email of their latest newsletter. This issue tells the story of how Beatitudes, a care home in Phoenix, shifted operations and staff behavior, and created a “rest as needed” policy on their dementia-specific living areas. They have been virtually “sundown-free” for 14 years and have eliminated almost all of their psychotropic medications as well!
I would encourage you to share this information with your teams and begin to look at how we might be able to create a more natural experience that honors the individual rhythms of our elders. This is powerful stuff, and a great example of how culture change improves not only quality of life, but clinical care as well.
Day 20: Who’s the Boss? Providing Person-Centered Care and Caring
By Bonnie Kantor-Burman, Sc.D., Director, Ohio Department of Aging
Editor’s Note: This blog was originally posted November 30 to the Family Caregiver Alliance’s “30 Days of Caregiving” blog
My mother was cared for by a wonderful woman, Darlene, during the time she needed long-term care and caring. One day, I asked Darlene if my mother could go somewhere with me—I don’t remember where, but it really doesn’t matter. What matters is the quizzical and rather piercing look I received from Darlene. Thinking that maybe she didn’t hear me clearly, I repeated my query. This time she responded not only with words, but with her arms flailing wildly for emphasis. “Why you are asking me?” she replied. “Your mother is the boss, not me.” And then, with a finger pointing my way she continued, “For heaven’s sake, ask her, not me.” Point well-taken indeed, and clearly never forgotten.
More and more states continue to “rebalance” their provision of long term care, focusing their efforts squarely on moving some of the care from more nursing homes to home- and community-based settings. This, of course, is not only more cost effective, but is what most folks tell us they want. Here in Ohio, our approach to rebalancing is multidimensional. In additional to shifting the balance back to providing more care in the home, we are also focusing on the message Darlene sent to me loud and clear. We are concentrating not only on where the care is delivered but also how, by whom and when. Think about it: If we are getting up on someone else’s schedule, going to bed when they decide and eating the food they think best for us at the hour they determine, are we really “home?” Or are we living in a house that used to be our home? In other words, who is in charge—or to paraphrase Darlene, “Who’s the boss?” After all, aren’t we the boss in our own homes? Don’t we make our own decisions whenever possible? And don’t we have real relationships with the people there?
Care in which the person needing the support is living as normal a life as possible and making as many of her own decisions as possible (regardless of whether the care is provided by family and friends or formal care from paid caregivers) is best described as person-centered care. It is the kind of care each of us would want for ourselves and for our loved ones. While there are many different approaches to person-centered care, the core values that unite them are choice, dignity, respect and self-determination. Person-centered care always is characterized by individual choice in schedule and relationship. To achieve this, formal and informal providers adjust their care and routines to the needs of the care recipient instead of the other way around. So, instead of being reassured that, “Mom is adjusting well,” in a person-centered care situation, a daughter will hear, “We are adjusting well to your mom.”
Perhaps a former care recipient said it best when she commented, “You haven’t lived ’til you’ve gone to the bathroom on someone else’s schedule.”
I would be remiss if I didn’t add that research suggests that everyone benefits from person-centered care. Health and functional outcomes are better, costs are lower and both providers and consumers are more satisfied. Sounds like a win-win-win situation to me!
Person-centered care certainly worked for our family. My mother, “the boss,” lived for a full six years being cared for and cared about by Darlene. She lived a full six years being loved by Darlene. In her own way, she loved Darlene right back. Isn’t this the kind of care and caring we want for all of our elders? Who’s the boss in your caregiving situation?
Resources
1) Ohio Department of Aging Web site: www.aging.ohio.gov
2) Ohio Department of Aging on Facebook
3) Ohio Department of Aging on Twitter
Day 20: Who’s the Boss? Providing Person-centered Care and Caring by By Bonnie Kantor-Burman, Director, Ohio Department of Aging is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Through the Looking Glass, Part Two
By Leslie Pedtke, BA, LNHA, Administrator at Aviston Countryside Manor
Editor’s Note: This is the second blog of a two-part series.
Nursing homes suck. Monte Coffman said this at the 2011 Illinois Pioneer Coalition Summit. I’ll have to admit. I kind of agree.
The first time I heard Dr. Bill Thomas speak and he said similar things about nursing homes I can remember feeling offended and a little ticked off.
The premise behind “Through the Looking Glass” was and is for those of us working in long term care to see how much it does suck. If we could only prevent hip fractures, strokes and especially Alzheimer’s disease maybe we wouldn’t need them. Nursing homes don’t suck. It’s needing one that sucks.
The first National Pioneer Network conference I attended I remember hearing a nurse during the opening ceremony speak about one of her resident’s saying, “I don’t care how pretty you make the bathroom, I just want to be able to use it when I need to go.” My eyes welled with tears. At that time, we had just made our bathrooms “pretty,” but I hadn’t thought about making sure no one had to wait to use it. Most of us working in long term care have no idea what it’s like to rely on someone else for our basic needs.
I moved into the nursing home for 24 hours.
Let me back up for a minute and tell you a little about myself. I am fiercly independent. Stubborn. I really love my job. I don’t do sitting around very well.
Fast forward.
I moved into the nursing home for 24 hours and as you know, I was scared. I hated to admit that. I was afraid I wouldn’t know how NOT to do “independent, stubborn, loves her job, ‘me.’
I hesitated to go to my room at first. What if it became permanent? I was out of my comfort zone. I was afraid.
I am a healthy 39 year old woman. I don’t have dementia (although I can be a little forgetful at times, like last Monday when I forgot to open the garage door before I backed my car out).
All I could think about was, “What if I had dementia and didn’t have a clue where I was compounded by these normal feelings of fear being out of my comfort zone?” I would try to get the heck out of there. And you would try and stop me. I would try to get the heck out of there. And you would try and stop me. Over and over again.
Something else I didn’t mention about myself. I used to be really introverted and when I get out of my comfort zone I become introverted once again. I became a shy person again. I stayed in my room most of the afternoon. If I were a real resident with dementia you would probably say I was depressed, not adjusting well, and an elopement risk. You would want to put me on medication.
We talk a lot about how quickly a person can become “institutionalized.” It’s true. I felt it. I fought it in my mind. It’s what scared me. Not only though do our residents become institutionalized, but so do those of us that work in long term care.
The day I moved in, I went to the activity room to play BINGO. When I returned to my room, there was an incontinent pad on my bed. It made me angry. I can independently use the bathroom. I don’t wet myself. Why would they put that on my bed?! I asked my caregiver, “Why do I have an incontinent pad on my bed?” Her response, “ummm….we put one on all the beds.” You do what?! Why?! We had an ah-ha moment together.
Do those of us that work on long term care act as institutionalized as those of us that live in long term care feel? Did we cause this? Can we stop it? Yes we can.
Matthew Lysobey, administrator of Mission View Health Center in San Luis Obispo, whom I fondly refer to as “the soap guy,” asked his staff why they thought their residents weren’t happy. One of his caregivers responded, “My life would suck if all I had to look forward to every day was thanking everyone for helping me and no one needed me anymore.” He is right. That does suck. It takes away purpose in our lives. Listen to the words being spoken in your home. How often do you hear yourself or your staff say, “It’s ok. We can do that for you. That’s why we’re here. You just relax and let us wait on you.” As fabulous as that sounds today, as busy working adults, sitting around being waited on all day is depressing.
During my 24 hour stay, I was told at least a dozen times, “I’ll do that for you.” At one point, when I was carrying my own dishes to the kitchen and a caregiver said that to me, I chided, “I want to do it myself. I have to feel like I still have purpose in this world.” She probably thought I was cranky and needed a nap or maybe she would speak to her nurse about getting me an anti-depressant because I wasn’t adjusting well.
I am making it sound like my stay was terrible. It wasn’t. I want to do it again. I will do it again.
I am thankful every day for the job that I have and the team I work with. We stand together against the use of psychotropic medication until everything else has been tried. That, along with the non-use of personal body alarms, has become part of our non negotiables.
Six of us so far have moved in for the 24 hour challenge. This isn’t a challenge to see if you can hack living in a nursing home. The challenge is to open your mind to think about better ways to care for those living in our home. What better way to do that but to live it. I did.
Through the Looking Glass
By Leslie Pedtke, BA, LNHA, Administrator at Aviston Countryside Manor
Editor’s Note: This is the first blog of a two-part series.
I’m moving into the nursing home in a few days. Oh, there is nothing wrong with me. I’m moving in because I want to. (Really? You say?) yes really. You see, I created this program with my staff called, “Through the Looking Glass.” I challenged my staff to move into the nursing home and live as a resident. They had to pick a diagnosis and face daily challenges people in nursing homes face every day.
In a few days I’m moving into the nursing home.
We have done the program twice now. I did not participate either time. I was the creator of the program. The one that had to oversee it getting done, I couldn’t be a participant. Right?
I created this program because I thought it was deeply important that the staff learn to empathize with those that live in the home in which they work. I wanted them to know what it was like to have to wait on someone to help them do the things we take for granted, like peeing in a toilet.
In a few days I’m moving into the nursing home.
I have been the Administrator at Aviston Countryside Manor since 1994. I know what it’s like to work in a nursing home. I think I have that part figured out. But, I have no idea what it’s like to live in one.
As my move in day gets closer, I have been asking myself, “What has taken me so long to decide to do this?” To be honest, I feel a little embarrassed I never have.
In a few days I’m moving into the nursing home.
I will admit I’m scared.
You see, I have worked really hard on this journey of culture change. I have been on the fast track of learning and teaching person centered care. Our community participates in a lot of dementia/alzheimer’s education. We have learned that building relationships are important to doing consistent assignments.We don’t use personal alarms to prevent falls. Those living in our community sleep until they want, take showers when they want and choose what activities they want to fill their day with. If I choose to live there on my birthday, they will even celebrate it with the meal and dessert of my choice. I won’t have to wait for the monthly birthday party.
Sounds like a great place doesn’t it?
What if it’s not?
In a few days I’m moving into the nursing home.
What if the community I have worked so hard to create isn’t all I thought it was? What if I have been seeing it through rose-colored glasses?
It is easy to become discouraged when you are making changes in your community. I had to work really hard to not let the little things bother me and not let the naysayers bring me down. I had, and still have to, remind myself that one candle lights another candle. Change can be slow and sometimes I’m impatient.
In a few days I’m moving into the nursing home. I’m only moving in for 24 hours. (I know…big whoop) 24 hours for the eutopian long term care world I have created in my head to become a little tarnished.
I know we are a great home. I’m not just saying that because I refuse to see it any other way. It’s because people tell me. There isn’t a way to measure “greatness” so I have to rely on the compliments we are given. I know we aren’t perfect though. It’s those little imperfections I’m afraid to see.
What if those imperfections diminish my spirit? Slow down my motivation? Blow out the flame of the candle I am holding?
In a few days I’m moving into the nursing home. I have made my list of all the things I want to bring with me. Pillow, cell phone, laptop. Oh I almost forgot…confidence. I can do this.
We Are Not the Alzheimer’s Generation!
By Dr. Allen Power, Eden Mentor, St. John’s Home, Rochester, N.Y., Associate Professor of Medicine, University of Rochester
As many of you know, the national Alzheimer’s Association leadership has labeled the Baby Boomers “Generation Alzheimer’s”. As one who is planted firmly in the center of that cohort, it’s time I responded to that characterization.
The reason we are felt to be the Alzheimer’s Generation is because when the Baby Boomers reach their 70s and 80s, there will be more people living with Alzheimer’s and other dementias than our country has ever seen.
This is true, and there is a simple reason why: Because there will be more 70- and 80-year olds than the country has ever seen!
It’s a matter of numbers – there are over 70 million of us. So have you figured out that as of that same date, there will also be more 70- and 80-year olds with healthy brains than the country has ever seen? More 70- and 80-year old CEOs, performers, writers and marathon runners? So why aren’t people calling us the “Healthy Brain Generation”??
Those same aging demographics will likely make us the Heart Attack Generation, the Cancer Generation, the Stroke Generation and even the Polymyalgia Rheumatica Generation as well (though probably not the Diabetes Generation, as the current childhood obesity epidemic looks to outpace us there).
I do not deny that the number of people living with dementia is rapidly growing. But as I recently heard a politician remark: “Statistics are like lampposts–many people use them more for support than for illumination.” It is time to stop scaring people and start illuminating them.
Besides being alarmist, there are two other problems with this label. The first is that it is profoundly ageist. Basically, this is one more example of an emerging group of older Americans being demonized as an approaching plague and a burden on our society.
In my own journey to better understand the spectrum of forgetfulness and cognitive disability, I have found that the only true dementia experts are those who have lived with the diagnosis. With all due respect to my former professors of neurology and psychiatry, I have learned more from Richard Taylor, Christine Bryden and the hundreds of people I have cared for over the years than from all of my scholarly training. What I have learned is that these true experts have much to teach us about the experience of dementia, which will in turn lead to remarkable new ways to provide optimal care and support.
Based on this, one could also say that the aging Baby Boomers will bring an unprecedented amount of wisdom to us about the experience of dementia, thus exponentially increasing our own knowledge and skills (if we can get beyond the stigmatization and partner with them).
Kudos to the folks at the University of Waterloo, Ontario, Canada. Doctoral candidate Jennifer Carson has recently shared with me the work she is doing with Dr. Sherry Dupuis and others to move beyond our often-paternalistic view of “person-centered care” and promote authentic partnerships between people living with dementia and their care partners. They have designed a model and a toolkit to help people create such partnerships, in which the person living with dementia is actively involved in daily decisions and planning. Why aren’t efforts like these placed front-and-center at our dementia symposia, instead of one more talk on the structure of the tau protein?
My last issue with the “Alzheimer’s Generation” label is that a closer examination of that concept reveals a basic contradiction with the association’s stated goal of creating ” a world without Alzheimer’s”. Consider the implications of our generation being labeled as such and ask yourself: Why will the aging Boomers produce an unprecedented number of people living with dementia? Is it because we are uniquely susceptible to some mosquito-borne dementia virus? Because we don’t eat as well as other generations? Because we inhaled a bit too much Agent Orange or dropped a little LSD during our youth?
No, the reason is simply because our cohort will be entering old age–the time when dementia becomes most prevalent. This focus highlights the very fact that dementia is, by and large, a condition intimately related to aging of the body and brain. Therefore, it seems clear that it will be very difficult to create a world without dementia, unless we create a world without old people. Soylent Green, anyone?
Enough complaining. Here is how I would frame the coming dementia “boom”: The aging of our population and all the attendant conditions associated with advanced age are a reminder that our world is changing irrevocably. Just as with the arrival of the automobile or the internet, we need a paradigm shift. We are challenged to examine the way our society functions and to re-imagine what will be needed to ensure a healthy future society. In this case, we must radically change our view of dementia and the systems of care we have created, as our current approach does not work and will not sustain us in the years to come. We also need to re-integrate elders, with and without dementia, into the fabric of our society–not as passive recipients of care, but through the kind of authentic partnerships that pioneers like the Waterloo group have put forward.
This will require some hard work and there is no time to lose. Where to begin? Well, for a start, you could ask a couple of Baby Boomers for their thoughts. After all, the numbers clearly show that we will be the “Old People with New Ideas Generation”!
Pioneer Conference Takeaway: A Life Full of Meaning
By Rhonda Rotterman, Executive Director of WNYAPCC
You could practically feel the energy and enthusiasm at this year’s Pioneer Conference in St. Louis as person-centered enthusiasts set out to network and learn new strategies.
There seemed to be a great deal of focus this year on dementia and creating choice and autonomy for those that suffer with this disease. Frameworks for change in this arena centered on learning about the ways in which human beings communicate through the spoken word, body language, inflection and tone.
We heard about the paradigm shift from viewing dementia as a progressive brain disorder to increasing our ability to respond to “behaviors” as an unmet need or a form of communication. We learned about the importance of connectedness, security and joy in the life of every human being despite their level of physical or mental functioning. And … we understood the importance of getting to truly know those we care for to gain insight into customary routines, preferences, interests and the forming of relationships. We can’t accomplish the latter without realizing that permanent assignments across the continuum are critical in creating an environment of empowerment, personhood and home.
We can apply these principles to individuals who can no longer navigate their world the way we do, or communicate the way we do. When these individuals who are suffering cry out or act out, the medical model says it’s because they have dementia. In light of what we are learning as professionals, we ought to be saying, “What are they trying to tell me?”
Think about what we do in the course of the day that fulfills our basic existence. We sleep, eat, work to pay our bills and support our families. We are able to dress ourselves and navigate through the day achieving all of those things fairly easily. We take much of that for granted.
Now think about what we do that brings us joy, connectedness and well being. We have hobbies, interests, religious practices, meals with family and friends, vacations. Think about the number of things you do that brings meaning into your life. It’s why we work, why we get up in the morning — it’s the MEANING of life. Sounds simple, right? To us it is simple because we control our daily lives. Imagine not having that control. Imagine not experiencing those meaningful things anymore. How important is basic existence then?
As I listened attentively to the various sessions, the one thing that continued to resonate within my heart and head was, “What is the meaning of life?” This is the mantra of what this conference and this movement are all about: Creating “meaning” no matter what stage of life we are in, no matter where we live and no matter who we are or how we act. Deep down inside, we ALL deserve and desire a meaningful life.
Not Dead Yet!
By Rhonda Rotterman, Executive Director of WNYAPCC
In the years I have worked in long term care I never really contemplated the individual as a whole human being. As a nurse, I was trained to identify disease and then figure out a plan to cure it or get the person to a stable state; ideally to return to as normal an existence as possible.
In long term care where disease and co-morbidities come in paragraphs, I viewed these individuals sadly as shells of their formal “normal” selves and felt the best I could do was to keep them pain free and as clinically stable as possible. Toward that end, I would consider myself a better than average leader as I carried around my clipboard and made sure t’s were crossed, i’s were dotted and everything was in its place. Each day my goals centered on adequate staffing, complete charting and making sure that all tasks got done by my direct reports within their assigned shifts or functions. Department of Health surveys were a focus and minimal complaints were a great benchmark for satisfaction.
Then I attended a three-day Eden Alternative ® training session on person-centered care and it was there I experienced my paradigm shift, my epiphany, my “ah ha” moment. I don’t think I made it through one day without sobbing thinking about how shortsighted I was with my goals and priorities. These were human beings I had the privilege of caring for each day: people who raised families, paid rents/mortgages, taxes, had trials and tribulations, enjoyed dinner out with friends and had loved ones who thought the world of them. I now understood more fully that these were people with a God-given purpose and who were still learning and growing — not individuals who were a task that needed tending and part of my already inundated day of “to do’s.”
My friend and songwriter Kareen King wrote a song inspired by a frail elder residing in a nursing home entitled “Not Dead Yet,” http://www.thegoldenexperience.com/p/kareens-music.html, and that song flooded the recesses of my mind while attending that training.
Well, there was no crying over spilled milk. I knew I had my work cut out for me and I was a Type A administrator on a mission to change the world. Mother Teresa said we do the best we can with what we know and when we know better, we do better. Well, I was all about “doing better” because it’s the way every human being deserves to be treated.
As a clinician I was trained to see the weaknesses and focus on making them better. What I have come to realize is that you cannot separate the physical from the spiritual. When one is ailing, the other will follow suit. When a human being is void of a caring human touch, when they lack love and companionship, when they lose their sense of purpose and have no reason to get out of bed the next day, their spirit begins to wane and we see that blunted affect creep in as they begin to withdraw. What we now know is that despite mental shortcomings these people are still in there, they are still the same. It’s just that the way they navigate their world is different and we need to engage their spiritual being as well as taking care of the physical. Take a look at this video from Memory Bridge and you’ll see an example of this http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1144833588209
Care partners (givers, doers), look past the task and see the person for who they are, not what they have become. They’re still the same individual; it’s just that their body no longer functions as it once did. Find a way to make that connection. Bridge the gap and truly know what it feels like to touch another and make a difference. No matter if you are the Pope or a homeless person on the streets of New York City, every human being desires to be loved and to give love in return (reference Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs: http://honolulu.hawaii.edu/intranet/committees/FacDevCom/guidebk/teachtip/maslow.htm.
It’s all about relationships; it’s what makes us human beings.
