In the second month of my new job as activities assistant and art teacher in a nursing home; I was arranging materials and tools on a long table. Directly in front of me, on the other side was an articulate and chatty gentleman who I knew had been the CEO of a large corporation. We discussed a current event while I prepared for the craft class.
I turned around to speak to someone and when I turned back I saw Mr. CEO using the scissors that I had placed in front of me to cut the pants he was wearing right along the thigh, slightly above the knee. Horrified, I hustled around the table and said "maybe that isn't a good idea, may I have the scissors back?". He cheerfully returned the scissors. As I returned to my spot at the table, I wondered how was I going to explain how Mr. CEO came to cut his pants. Then I glanced over to see he was now in the process of tearing his pants up to his crotch. A beautifully tailored pair of pants had just become an accessory to a strange strip-show. I put up my materials and suggested that we take a return ride to his room. He cheerfully agreed.
We exit the activity room, turn the corner, and greet the Administrator who arches her eyebrows in a question mark fashion. "Mr. CEO was using scissors to cut his pants, I explained, but we have decided not to use scissors anymore." "An excellent idea," she dryly observes and continues on while I wonder if this is my last day on the job.
Later I spoke to the gentleman's wife who simply laughed. "I asked him what he was doing and he said he was making cut-off shorts because it was so hot!"
I've told this story on myself many times because it illustrates how fast behaviors can change with someone suffering with dementia. Mostly though it reminds me that a sense of humor saves your life as a caregiver. Surprise behaviors can derail your day if you lose your ability to laugh. A caregiver recently told me how she jokes and teases her client into laughing and mid-smile puts medicine on her tongue. Mission accomplished without the combative contest of wills.
Twilight Zone meets Buster Keaton when you care for someone suffering from dementia. On the days the front wall of your storefront falls down (Steamboat Bill, Jr. (1928); maybe it's best to stand in the ruins and laugh.
Nearly everyone who has worked with others with chronic illness has a story of how sad intersects the hilarious. What's yours?
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