Purchasing a clock

Here’s an interesting blog post from my caregiver friend Eric, whose father-in-law has dementia, about reading time versus telling time:

pragmaticcaregiver.blogspot.com/2007/05/does-anybody-really-know-what-time-it.html

Eric offers a few guidelines about clocks for those with cognitive impairments:

1-  When selecting an analog clock, look for a clear, high contrast face.

2- Simple block numbers with distinct minute and hour hands.

3- No Roman numerals and no stylized designs that omit numbers.

4- For digital clocks, be wary of displays that present too much.

Robin

 

Tips for Caregivers – Dr. Andrew Weil

Recently I came across Dr. Andrew Weil’s tips for caregivers in the health section of the online USA WEEKEND Magazine. (I read about it on an LBD-related discussion group.)

He insists that caregivers need to “maintain [their] own body and spirit while seeing [a] loved one through illness.”

Editor’s Note: Article no longer available

http://www.usaweekend.com/07_issues/070506/070506caregivers.html

Taking care of the caregiver
It’s not all about the sick person, says the famous holistic doctor. To polish your bedside manners, follow these 8 tips.
By Andrew Weil, M.D.
USA WEEKEND Magazine
May 6, 2007

Though Dr. Weil says he has eight tips for caregivers, I count nine! They are:

1- Put yourself high on the priority list.

2- Realize that you may experience resentment.

3- De-stress yourself.

4- Don’t forsake sound nutrition habits.

5- Exercise matters, too.

6- Be careful about alcohol.

7- Plan something to look forward to.

8- Find someone who has successfully done what you’re doing.

9- Be prepared to say goodbye.

As part of his suggestions, he recommends one book in particular:

“There are great books to help people deal with their feelings. A favorite of mine is ‘A Year to Live’ by Stephen Levine.”

This short article is worth reading.

Robin

Tips for Caregivers (from Janet Edmunson)

Janet Edmunson’s husband Charles was diagnosed with PSP in the late 90s.  After his death at age 50, a brain autopsy revealed he had corticobasal degeneration.  (The four disorders in our group are often confused for each other!)

After her husband died, Janet wrote a book titled “Finding Meaning With Charles: Caregiving With Love Through A Degenerative Disease.”  She is also an inspirational speaker.

A radio interview she did on the topic of caregiving is available online.  Go to this webpage:
http://www.wsradio.com/internet-talk-radio.cfm/shows/Coping-with-Caregiving/archives/date/selected/02-03-2007.html

And then click on item #2.

On her website — www.janetedmunson.com/ — she has some tips for caregivers.  (I especially find the message that “stress makes you stupid” to be resonating loudly with me these days.)  Her tips are copied below.

Robin

————————

Tips for Caregivers
by Janet Edmunson
janetedmunson.com

Difficult experiences teach us precious lessons of wisdom. During the later stages in dealing with Charles’s disease, I had learned quite a few lessons:

Don’t wait too long to get help. Trying to do it all seemed like the only way at first, but that eventually wore me down. I hadn’t thought that Charles would accept help from home health aides-especially female ones. In retrospect, I found that once he had the help, he quickly got used to it, after a bit of complaining. I ended up missing out on needed help earlier in his disease.

Stress makes you stupid. I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t find the right word I wanted, or I would just forget things. I understand that there is actually a physiological explanation for this phenomenon: Stress can impact our ability to think clearly. I was glad to realize that I wasn’t really losing my mind.

Surround yourself with positive people and messages. I felt uplifted when I listened to the Norman Vincent Peale tape we had ordered for Charles through the National Library of Congress. Peale’s affirming theme of “you can if you think you can” gave me courage and assurance that my positive attitude was what would get me and Charles through. Two other quotes from Peale also encouraged me: “It’s always too soon to quit” and “To every disadvantage there is an advantage.” I wrote each of those down and kept the notes handy. They fit in well with a saying I had always tried to follow: “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” With positive people and messages around me, I had the confidence to make it through this unimaginable life difficulty.

Strength comes in helping someone else. The more I committed to help Charles fulfill his goals, the stronger I felt in my care giving. I guess that was because I had become a partner with him in preserving his legacy, which provided meaning and purpose for this struggle.

It’s difficult dealing with the very long good-bye that is part of a neurodegenerative disease. While I didn’t hear her say this, I understand that Nancy Reagan used these words to describe living with Ronald Reagan’s Alzheimer’s disease. While I chose to be optimistic and tried to make the best out of our situation, I had nonetheless been losing my beloved Charles bit by bit. And that was still very difficult and painful.

Assisted suicide is probably not necessary. Earlier in Charles’s disease, I had pondered whether assisted suicide might actually be a humane way for Charles to end his life, if living it was too difficult for him. If he was no longer contributing to life — and was just existing — why shouldn’t we be allowed to do it? But I had learned that for Charles, even though he couldn’t talk, he was still making an impact in other’s lives. Even the hospice staff and volunteers, who never heard him speak, commented on the powerful influence he quietly had on their lives. And because he didn’t show that he was in too much pain, allowing nature to take its course seemed to be the right thing for us.

Be more upfront. I wish I could have dealt earlier with certain issues that arose with Charles, such as his driving, retirement, and getting a wheelchair. I felt that he needed to be emotionally ready to address some of these things. However, in some instances, I might have waited longer than I really should have. I could get the gumption to deal with potentially contentious issues only if I psyched myself up first. But even then, these issues took me out of my comfort zone. I watched for the appropriate opportunity and pounced on it when it came, but I wish I could have been more proactive.

Life isn’t fair. That was just the way it was. By accepting that life isn’t fair, I was usually able to stay clear of the anger and frustration that can paralyze caregivers. My brother explained to me once that the Chinese symbol for crisis is danger plus opportunity. The danger just happened — Charles had a degenerative disease. Even though it was unfair, this tragic opportunity allowed me to live more deeply and passionately.

eMedicine on feeding tubes + some personal info

This will only be of interest to those dealing with dysphagia (swallowing problems) and who are open to the idea of a feeding tube.

Personally, I never understood what the big deal was about getting a feeding tube during the time period when quality of life is still good.  When my Dad (with progressive supranuclear palsy) stopped eating and drinking over a week ago (he reported that it was too fatiguing to chew and swallow, the swallow was delayed by 5-15 minutes, and quite a bit of chewed food was spat out because he couldn’t perform the swallow), I started mentioning to a few people that I was looking into the ins-and-outs of a feeding tube.  Many of the people not involved in healthcare took it to mean that he was at the end of life.  I guess that’s why they got so upset talking to me and wanting to know if I was OK and if we were ready for hospice.  So I’m not quite sure how to bring up the topic anymore.  Basically, I view the feeding tube in the same way I view the walker or wheelchair — it makes life a little safer.  He said he wanted it.  And if I were he I would want it as he still has pretty good quality of life.

Anyway, I can report to you today that my Dad had surgery this morning (with Versed, a sedative, and fentenyl, an analgesic, both given via IV).  (They initially said they’d be using the intravenous anesthetic propofol.  I said “what about the 1/23/07 issue of Biochemistry which indicated that propofol leads to amyloidbeta peptide aggregation in the brain?”  The MD said “amyloid-beta aggregation is not an issue in PSP.”)  A G-J tube was placed.  Endoscopy (a procedure using a probe with a camera on the end) was not used.  Because most people getting a feeding tube have an NG (nasal gastric) feeding tube in place — it goes through one of the nostrils down to the stomach — and they were unsuccessful in placing such a tube in Dad on Monday, the prep time for the surgery was longer than normal.  In total it was supposed to take 2 hours; it took 3.  The procedure was done by an interventional radiologist.  Normally, the NG tube is used to insert a dye so that the colon is highlighted so it won’t get hit.  They, instead, inserted a tube into Dad’s rectum and injected the dye that way.  Then they inserted a tube down his esophagus in order to blow air into the stomach so that they could “see” the stomach from outside the body.  They had lots of trouble inserting that tube.  So much so that the MD asked me later why we were worried about acid reflux and aspiration.  She was thinking that if it’s so hard to get things down the esophagus, it must be hard for things to come back up.  I mentioned that Dad was at risk for aspiration, based on the modified barium swallow study.  After telling her that, she agreed that the G-J tube was better than the G-tube for Dad.  (It would’ve been better to have had that conversation beforehand but no harm done.)  There is one small tube going into Dad’s body.  Inside, the tube splits — one part goes off to the G (which stands for “gastric” and refers to the stomach) and one part goes off to the J (which stands for “jejunum” and refers to the intestine).  This small tube comes out of Dad’s body for about 7 inches.  (It’s long!)  At the end of it is a rather large and firm set of three tubes or ports; there’s a G port, J port, and a Bal port (don’t know what that one’s for yet).  All of the feeding, hydration, and medication will occur via the J port.  I’m not really sure why there’s a G port.  Perhaps as a back-up or something.  Right now, stomach bile is draining out of the G port.  This is supposed to end at some point (days? weeks?).  The idea is that if you can get the liquid further down into the gastrointestinal system, there’s less chance it will back up into the esophagus and therefore less risk of aspiration.  The MD said that if there were no risk of aspiration a G tube would be better as the stomach is the best place for the body to receive nutrition and digest it.  The MD gave me one tip, which I thought I’d pass on:  if the G-J tube gets loose, insert a Foley catheter into the tube, inflate the balloon, and get to an ER soon.  The catheter will keep the hole open; if there’s not something there keeping the hole open, it will start to close up.  (Note to self: buy an extra Foley catheter and syringe to inflate balloon.)

I’m still learning about the feeding process so I don’t want to say too much about that.  Our plan is to feed him over a 12-hour period while he’s in bed at night.  (One bummer is that he’ll have to sleep with the head of the bed at a 30-45 degree angle to avoid reflux.)  We are very lucky that one of Dad’s feeders has a daughter who has been fed via NG tubes and PEG tubes, so she’s way ahead of us in terms of knowing how to handle all of this.  I have some concerns about finding a feeder who can come start the 12-hour feed around 8pm.  And I want to try to find a belt or cover so that I can protect the tube and ports as everyone says they can be accidently ripped out.  When I learn more, I’ll pass it on.

I haven’t had much access to the internet over the last few days, so I’ve relied on the rather poor info that’s been given to me about PEGs and G tubes by the hospital (in Salt Lake City).  Tonight, after the fact, I’ve gone to emedicine.com, which is one of my favorite sources.  They do cover the topic of feeding tubes, and the G-J tube (picture 8 looks a little short and small to me).  I thought I’d pass on the link to that:

www.emedicine.com/radio/topic798.htm

Percutaneous Gastrostomy and Jejunostomy
Last Updated: March 26, 2003
eMedicine.com

Problem of delirium with hospital stays (Boston Globe, 2-12-07)

There is an article in today’s (2/12/07) edition of The Boston Globe newspaper (boston.com) about the danger of hospital stays for the elderly and those with dementia.

Here’s the article in a nutshell:

“Doctors used to believe that delirium was a short-lived problem for older, hospitalized patients. But research now suggests that delirium — a sudden, serious mental confusion — can linger for months and can increase the likelihood of more serious mental decline, including dementia…  Patients with dementia are at least five times more likely to experience delirium while hospitalized than patients with sound minds.”

Also, the article draws attention to the anesthetic isoflurane. This inhaled anesthetic was mentioned in the article on anesthesia and Alzheimer’s that I circulated earlier this year.

Here’s a link to the article:

web.archive.org/web/20070228141242/http://www.boston.com/news/science/articles/2007/02/12/an_ends_beginning/?

An end’s beginning
More than half of all elderly hospitalized patients suffer severe confusion. Many ultimately decline into dementia. Are there common triggers to both?
By Alice Dembner, Globe Staff
The Boston Globe
February 12, 2007

Rather alarming reading!

Robin