I am the type of person
who, when I decide to do something, I DO IT.
I like to get something started and FINISH it. I mean, not like big projects, heaven knows
the wine rack/shelf unit I wanted to clean and repaint sat in disarray for a
year before it finally got done and reassembled… But in general – if there are dishes to be washed,
I wash them. If there is laundry to be
done, I clean it. If there is a bill to be
paid, I write out the check and take it to the post office.
Which is one reason that
dealing with someone with Alzheimer’s can be so frustrating.
Because, as I am learning
more every day, when you are interacting with someone whose memory is
compromised, it is not about the end result, it is about the DOING. The activity.
The time spent having something worthwhile, something soothing,
something meaningful to accomplish – that
is the goal. Not the finished product.
The task that first
brought this to my attention was a puzzle.
There were some 500 pieces spread out on the table. My first instinct: put the puzzle together. Finish it. “Check it off the to do list” in a sense. Even if we assume that our intention is to enjoy
putting it together, to have fun doing a puzzle, in the back of our minds the
goal is to finish, right?
But.
The act of DOING the
puzzle. Of finding the 4 corner
pieces. Of putting the straight edges together
in one area of the table. Of looking on
the box and seeing what this red section, what these stripes, might become… That
is the act of doing a puzzle. One piece. Two pieces.
More and more…
And for someone with Alzheimer’s,
putting the puzzle together gives a sense of purpose. A sense of accomplishment. A distraction from the confusion and frustration. Each piece is a little victory.
So, each piece that I, a
person without dementia place, well, that is a bit of “stolen purpose”, isn’t
it? Each piece that I put in is one that
you can’t. Because if I understand that the end goal is
for you to find a moment or two of relief from confusion, a brief time
when you can focus and be successful, then I can sit back and watch. And be proud.
And encourage. Oh sure, I will
engage and work a little corner of the puzzle, I don’t want to be rude. But I will let you take the lead. I will keep you focused as long as I can.
And when your attention
drifts and you go back to the repetitive behavior that has become so familiar to
those around you, I will take a deep breath, smile, and begin our conversation again.
Comments