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Alzheimer's disease, Cursive Writing, The Power of the Written Word, writers, writing, Written Words
I witnessed the magic of the written word today.
Did the words end world hunger or bring peace in war-ravaged lands? No.
Did the sweet cooing of undying passion conveyed in a love letter win another’s hand in marriage? No.
Did a sincere and sorrowful note of apology mend a family torn apart? No.
So what happened, you ask?
It was the mysterious way that the reading of words transformed my mom’s state of confusion and agitation, to one of coherence and peace.
Let me explain.
For those of you who have stopped by here over the last few months, you probably caught wind that my hale and hearty 89-year-old dad became gravely ill in early September. He has been in and out of hospitals and nursing homes since then. He takes one step forward in his recovery and then gets cut off at the knees with a new and serious health condition. It has been a frustrating, scary, and all-consuming experience for my family and my sweet dad. We almost lost him countless times.
The aging process doesn’t deal an even hand. My dad’s body is failing, but his mind is sharp. My mom is healthy, but her mind is shot. She has Alzheimer’s.
So, while Dad has been convalescing, Mom has been living with my sister and her husband. They get, as my mom would say, “leather medals” for what they have done for her. I know my dad’s worry about mom has impeded his recovery. Dad agreed that the time had come for Mom to move to a place appropriate for her needs.
I’ve been in Portland for a week to find such a place. I found a charming apartment for her in a facility near my dad. The staff there deserves a “Do Not Pass Go, Collect a Million Dollars, and Go Straight to Heaven” card.
After many long and round-about conversations with Mom and showing her how cozy the apartment is, she agreed to live there. She loved the place.
Then . . . I moved her things in.
Then . . . I brought Mom to the apartment.
Then . . . all hell broke loose.
Mom became angry, bitter, and wanted to leave. She transformed to addled, disoriented, and incoherent. There was no reasoning with her. After physically stopping her at the door six times, I was near tears. Because I am prone to melodrama, I also saw my life flash before my eyes.
So what did I do?
I said, “Hey Mom, why don’t you sit here and read the welcome packet from the apartment manager?” Redirected, she plunked down and read every word of the packet out loud. At the end of the last page, she said, “Isn’t this place wonderful!? They thought of everything. I’m so lucky to live here.”
Phew.
I can hear you all saying, “Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . so get on with it Robin. Where is this so-called magic of the written word you were talking about?”
Bear with me. I’m getting to it.
Sure, the welcome packet included interesting things like the times meals are served and the activity schedule. But it also read chapter and verse from the state and federal regulations governing nursing home facilities such as staffing levels, posting of job titles, and nutrition standards. Pretty dry stuff.
Mom’s brain cells were rattling like the balls in a pinball machine until she read the packet. I am not a neurologist, although I play one on TV, but I know it wasn’t what was written in the packet that reassured her. It was the process of reading the words that calmed her brain. Her synapses were misfiring and reading realigned her brain waves. Mom went from agitated, to almost catatonic, to functioning with appropriate responses and reactions.
Granted, the words Mom read today were not in beautiful cursive as we discussed in my famous (or should I say infamous) “Is Cursive Handwriting Dead?” post. But they were words.
Okay, okay, okay. My point is that I think reading helps us orient to life, brings us peace, and calms the savaged soul. At least it did today with my mom and her cruel companion named Alzheimer’s.
Mom settling in while I look for a bottle of scotch to sooth my nerves.
Related articles
- The Debate Over Cursive Handwriting (robincoyle.wordpress.com)
- Is Cursive Handwriting Dead? (robincoyle.wordpress.com)
Robin Coyle 
Well, I was thinking that I responded with a comment, but I think I emailed you instead, because I don’t see anything from me. So I just wanted you to know that I’m glad you got her settled, and that you were able to redirect. I know that must have been really hard on you. Scotch, huh? Sounds good…
I’m not a scotch drinker but in the moment, I wanted something strong and bracing. The day I moved mom into her new apartment was in the top ten of awful days.
Something is up with WordPress. I’ve replied to some comments via email and rather than showing up in the blog, they were emailed to the commenter. Weird.
Awwwww, honey, you are doing so well 🙂 I can only imagine how hard this has all been for you (((((hugs)))))
A lovely story Robin 🙂 I hope your mum settles in well.
Xx
It has been touch and go with Mom at the new place. The staff checks in on her every 20-minutes and they have her photo posted at all the nurses stations. Sigh.
(((((Hugs))))) Robin
Take care of you ok xx
Robin,
Beautiful post. I think you’re right, asking your Mom to read out loud helped focus her energy on something that she felt she could control. I think the anger and frustration of Alzheimers stems mostly from that – a feeling of being out of control and not knowing how to bring things back in line. Your parents are very fortunate to have such loving and supportive daughters and you listened to your intuition on this one. Enjoy your lovely husband and your scotch this weekend. And a few good deep breaths.
Cathy
Yes, I think she knows something is wrong with her, but gets angry because she doesn’t know what it is. Like me, she always liked to be in control. I feel blessed that my sisters and I are in lock-step over what to do about the situation with my folks. And, since Dad is sharp as ever, we are able to include him in the decisions. That makes it easier too. I can’t imagine what it would be like if he fought putting Mom in a home. Thanks for your support, Cathy. It means a lot to me.
Different things for different people – I know people who react the same way to music. Some of my students would listen to music that made my head scream, but it calmed them and they could work, even effectively, at times. I think you are right; something settles the brain and makes it focus differently. Writing often does that for me. Sometimes, these comments are more to settle me than anything else. The fact that, most of the time, they make sense and are decent is just icing.
Scott
What did you teach and what grade?
Trying to get Mom settled reminded me of the scenes in the movie “Young Frankenstein” and Igor plays the French Horn to calm the monster down.
I taught emotionally handicapped 6-12th grades. Getting them settled was a big matter of getting their attention and not letting it go: always a toughie.
I did a lot of different things – playing the French Horn was not one of them. I taught all subjects, but enjoyed English, Science, and Math most.
Scott
That must have been a challenging and rewarding occupation. A noble pursuit, my friend. Bet you wished you knew about the French Horn trick then.
Live and learn!
I think the message of your post is that for all the talk of beautiful writing, and the correct way to write, and all those other things we love, and like to discuss, and are important, that the most important thing is that writing communicates. A message that might seem functional to someone else provides the cue, or stability someone else requires. A story might seem slow and boring to some, but if it communicates, it will strike the right chord with someone. The writing in the right context provides so much.
Exactly. Reading provides focus, a chance to step out of your brain, and a distraction from problems. With Mom, at that moment, it filled a need for her, even though it wasn’t writing of import. Another good distraction for her . . . crossword puzzles! Another example of the power of words.
i have nominated you for http://paulaacton.wordpress.com/2012/12/08/blog-of-the-year/
Well thank you kindly, Paula~! How cool is that?
So much food for thought. Feels like we may sometimes get caught in the trap of spending too much time trying to do the right thing by over-thinking the issue, (but then who can blame when dealing with such a complex situation) – instead of looking towards foundation type activities as you seem to have discovered. Not to say that it will work again (although lets hope it does) but it may also lead you to think of other similar ways of dealing with these situations in the future. Thanks for sharing this.
I also know that music and a crossword puzzle calms Mom down she is agitated or confused. And you know what? Those things calm me down when I am fried or anxious too.
My Gran plays solitaire. Making the transition from being in a place of stress to engaging in a calming activity seems to be the tricky part. Well done on managing that. How very strange is this experience called life.
Ha! Mom plays solitaire for hours too. It helps her realign her brainwaves. This experience is rather strange. And scary, as I see my future in what is happening with Mom.
My mom has the same scary feelings as she deals with my Gran. My husband regularly points out though that my Gran is old. 89. Even before she started to loose touch she had lived a long and full life. it helps me keep a perspective. My mom-in-law is in her late 70’s and as with it as ever but her younger sister is now battling a bit. So you just never know. I don’t know Robin. This journey is a tough one. Hang in there.
Oh, Robin. I think I’ve just resigned to cry every time I read your posts about your parents. You’re in such a hard spot. To watch our parents age, get sick, and face complications and trials that surpass their capacities is painful and unnatural. BUT…as awful as it is, I think it’s one of those sacred places that can help bring us full circle in life. You’re honoring your parents by taking care of them when they can’t take care of themselves, and that is down-right hallowed, my friend. My situation is a bit different with my mom’s brain cancer, but it touches the same scary nerve that threatens the little girl in me. Bless you. Bless you. Bless you…and your mom and dad. Keep it up, sister.
Sorry if I make you teary. After having one hell of a day, it was therapeutic to write this post. Interesting about your “full circle” concept. Mom’s behavior is often like that of a recalcitrant toddler. She wants lots of attention, her own way, and can throw one heck of a hissy fit. Parenting our parents is tough. Rewarding to help them, but gut wrenching to watch them fade. How is your mom doing?
I can understand how reading the brochure / the words calmed your mother. Reading slowed her down. She had to process. She might have felt LUCKY to be in such a wonderful place. I believe, even as the disease has run rampant, the subconcious is working: itit remembers: if it’s written on this paper, then it is true (a comfort also?)
Just saying… Hope life gets easier for all.
She was agitated and rattled. You are right . . . the process of reading slowed down her nervous system and grounded her. I learned another trick with her . . . I wrote down what the day’s plan was, so rather than her asking me 500 times, she knew to refer to the paper to know what was going to happen.
Hang in there Robin! You’re on to something…tuck that trick in your back pocket for another round next time!
Oh yes . . . I’m sure I’ll need to use the trick again. It worked miracles!
I really feel for you, Robin. We’re having the same issues with hubby’s parents at the moment. Mum has dementia and dad has had a stroke (which is the main reason we’ve come to live back at the farm to look after them). Age can be a very cruel beast indeed 😦
How is the farm renovation going? Anymore snakes, geckos, or cockroaches?
You know what is funny, in a not funny kind of way? I knew my parents were going to grow old . . . so why did it surprise me when they did?
Good luck to you with your in-laws. What a wonderful daughter-in-law you are.
The farm renovation is going well (that’s where the parents-in-law live) and no more creepy crawlies in sight. We’ve decided to lift the house so it’s much higher off the ground to ease the flow of future ‘visitors’ 😀
It’s so hard with aging parents. My mother is now a long way away (since I moved) and is 84 years old (and still very well thank god!) but I have three sisters living close to her so I’m not as worried about her as am about the parents-in-law. It’s so hard seeing once strong people become frail and vulnerable and I guess the protection gene clicks in!
Mom and Dad’s health situation came on suddenly and took us by surprise. I’ve said it before, but it stinks.
I’ve also said it before . . . but you are a wonderful daughter-in-law. They are lucky to have you.
😀 *blushing now*
I still haven’t gotten to writing about my then-mother-in-law/ Louise to my Thelma, so I may as well give away one of the punch lines here.
“Louise” was an exceptionally bright and vibrant, not to mention feisty, woman. As you likely know, there are certain cognitive tests to assess the stages of the disease.
Early in, this woman who was ABD (all-but-dissertation) was offended at the questions, so when they got to “Write a complete sentence,” her sentence was “Go to hell,” which she wrote with a mischievous smile on her face.
This became her favorite part of the test and a favorite one of the stories we would share — in her presence. The laughter helped us all cope a little. At the end, she couldn’t write the sentence any more, but when she was asked, to, she smiled at her son with her big beautiful blue eyes, and they both knew exactly what she was thinking. Gosh, I miss that woman.
….which was to say, in “Louise’s” case, the written word helped. 🙂
I think I love Louise. That is a great story and another example of how words help us cope. She must have been a hoot. My mom can still crack a joke during her lucid moments. It is fun when she is with it enough to share her sharp wit.
I’m repeating myself, but I hope it’s worth it — appreciating her wit and the humorous moments (maybe even those she doesn’t remember) are ways of coping or they were for us. It’s great that your mom still has that.
I’m keeping you and your family in my thoughts. I know it’s hard. I’m sorry for that.
Much work being done with music and poetry here, Robin. I’m sure you’ve heard of it already, but said to be wonderful help for those with any sort of dementia ~ well done, you’re doing good 🙂
The situation with Mom and reading the welcome packet reminded me of the scenes in the movie “Young Frankenstein” where the music from the French horn calms the monster down. Are you familiar with the movie?
I can only try to imagine what a difficult situation that was, and I’m so glad you had the wherewithal to come up with such a great tension-breaker! If the day ever comes that I face a similar situation, now I know something to try.
Stay strong, and I hope your mother will soon become better settled in her new home. A change has helped my mother-in-law, so maybe you’ll find a similar response here.
After living with my sister for 10 weeks or so, I think Mom will like having her own space and will feel more in control of her out-of-control situation. I know I would. She was so excited about putting up a Christmas tree and some decorations. She was child-like. I’m hoping the change does her good and she finds peace in having her cute little apartment.
Even through the humour you offer, the drama came through and I was holding my breath… what an amazing and instinctive think for you to do. I think now to my MIL, who gets a bit scatty and confused, but now I think of it, focuses when given written facts & figures… now you’ve indentified this, we’ll emply it deliberately… nice one. The G.O.’s family oldies are currently going through some life crises, so I’ve had a small taste akin to your experiences and it makes me admire you all the more, for how you deal with it, and that you manage to share what you learn so engagingly. I hope things settle for you & yours…
Gosh, thanks Ella Dee. I was filled with conflicting emotions when I wrote this post. Joy and relief in finding a safe and comfortable place for mom, and sadness about the reality of where we are in life. Parenting our parents is hard. Actually, it stinks. I just found out from my sister that Mom had a bad night last night. I’m so glad she is where she is because the facility is adept at handling people with Alzheimer’s and know how to redirect her. Sigh.
I read the post, looked at the picture and saw a lady who looked exactly like my late 80-something mother sitting in her chair in her room at the retirement home. Even the room looked similar. My mother had sciatica and had to be moved from her home to an assisted living facility. Sadly, I never did find the right words – written or verbal – to make her feel comfortable there, so I’m glad those words helped in your case.
P.S. I recommend a good single malt scotch.
The facility where mom now lives had a gal come in to play Christmas carols on the piano for a little sing-along. Mom said, “Look at all the old people here. The room looks like a used-walker sales lot.” I laughed and did not remind her that she is one of the old people!
Sorry to hear your mom didn’t settle in. It must be hard to accept the aging process.
Thanks for the scotch recommendation. Single-malt it is.
Wow. I really feel for you, Robin. I’m just so glad you found a way to redirect your mom in her time of crisis.
You might want to get her a library of books for the holidays.
She loves a mystery so that is an excellent suggestion.
I’m home now and you know what? My body is sore all over. I think I was clenching every muscle in my body while dealing with this crisis with Mom. Stress is a nasty thing.
Stress will kill you if you let it.
Don’t let it. I like you!
I like you too! Come over for that belt of scotch!
I suspect the reading did have a calming effect on her. Gave different pathways of her brain a chance to take over and quiet the more agitated ones. I hope she settles in smoothly, and as always, I wish you well through this obviously difficult process.
Reading was a good diversion for her and calmed her down. Reading has the same effect on me. I’m reading a really good book right now. You may have heard of it . . . “The Seneca Scourge.” I’m about half-way through!
And once again, you have made my day… 🙂
Your scene where the young husband crawls in bed with his dying wife made my eyes sting with tears.
Yeah, I really created a ball of laughs with that one, didn’t I?…
Even though I knew them for only a few paragraphs, I felt like I really knew them . . . if that makes sense.
🙂
Robin, thank you so much for sharing this. It’s touching and informative, and your words brought tears to my eyes. I’ve known a couple of friends whose parents got violent when they first realized they were going to live in a facility. Perhaps what you did with the reading of words might’ve helped them as well. Sigh. I’ve been keeping you and your family in my daily prayers. Hugs.
When Mom tried to leave the new apartment, she was combative. She didn’t lash out, but I think she wanted to. The situation is so confusing for her and it makes her angry one minute, and then she checks out the next. I think it is a coping mechanism. Thanks for the hugs and prayers. Both are most welcome here.
what a great observation and tool–wishing you the best Robin!
Thanks, Lou Ann. What a flipping nightmare. But, we will get through it.
sometimes we just have no choice (hugs)
I’ve known you all these years and I didn’t know you like scotch! Yuck! What a wonderful post and I’m so glad things are going well for your mom.
I don’t drink scotch, but sure wanted something strong at that moment.
Looking forward to having you home tonight!….and we can share a shot of Scotch!
Shot of scotch? Let’s share a bottle of scotch.
I watched my favorite aunt go through Alzheimer’s. It was almost as confusing for me as it was for her, because I suddenly didn’t recognize her either. I got pretty pissed at the world… not knowing what to do… not being able to do anything.
If reading helps, do it. Maybe it forces, or allows, the mind to focus.
Be good to your dad, but realize that he’s still a man. Let him keep his stupid-ass man’s pride. 🙂
My heart goes out to you and your family, Robin.
There are times I don’t recognize my mom either. But what a joy when her old self pops up and she cracks a joke. She has/had a great sense of humor.
You are right about keeping Dad’s pride in place. We were sure to have him involved in the decision-making regarding Mom’s new living situation. My sisters were hesitant to talk frankly with him about Mom needing to move because they didn’t want to upset him. I said, “He needs to feel in control in this out-of-control situation.” So . . . I was the one who said, “Dad, we need to talk about Mom.” The conversation went well.
Robin, This is so true. It’s why they keep magazines about golf (which I don’t care one bit about) or parenting or wild goose hunting in doctor’s waiting rooms. Or why I always bring something to read while giving blood. The simple act of holding something and looking at words is so calming.
I’m glad to hear that your mom is settling in. You are a superhero.
Why is it that doctor offices have the WORST magazine collections?
I got my love of reading from my Mom. It is no wonder reading calmed her down, even though it was dry as toast.
Superhero? I think not. I’ve second-guessed myself every step of the way. But thank you for saying so.
Reading the operator’s manuel eh? Whodda thunk?
Seriously. But it worked!
Wow, Robin, what a heartbreaking yet uplifting story. Do therapists give Alzheimer’s patients things to read as part of their therapy? You may be on to something. My heart goes out to you and your family. I hope your parents get to be with each other soon. If your dad gets better, can he live with your mom?
I’ve learned they use music and poetry when working with dementia patients. I now know why. The calming effect reading had on her addled brain allowed her better cognition. I failed to say in this post that the effect that time was long-lasting. She had a really good evening and didn’t slip back into incoherence. It was lovely.
Yes, when Dad gets better, he can move in with her. She keeps asking him why he can’t move in with her now. She forgets how frail he is. She gets mad at him for using the walker. She says, “You don’t need that! You are a strong man!”
Ah, Mom. Sigh. Yes he does.
I’m glad reading helped your mom. I can see that this is not an easy time for you (if it was in my power, I’d send you TWO bottles of scotch), and it’s good to hear that reading helped. Best wishes to both your parents.
Thank you for the best wishes. Yup . . . this situation stinks. I’ll watch for my two bottles of scotch from you in the mail!
Did I see you were Freshly Pressed again? I’ll pop over to check it out shortly! Congrats to you!
That photo of your mother makes me feel so emotional, I can see everything you have described about her in her expression and how she’s sitting. I hope she will be happy there, it sounds like a great place. And that’s wonderful about the reading, it makes perfect sense.
I hope she will be happy there. She looks relaxed and at peace in the photo, doesn’t she? I heard from my sister that Mom had a bad night last night, but the staff have her on checks every twenty minutes. I’m glad they are keeping a close watch on her. If this situation doesn’t work out, I’m not sure what we will do.
That was great thinking Robyn. I am lucky (touch wood) that in their late 70’s, my parents still have their health. You’re Mum and Dad are so lucky, despite their difficulties, to have a family that loves them and can think laterally through a difficult situation. I love the idea that reading something so mundane can have this effect. Imagine if you read her something of beauty? Jen
Glad to hear your folks are healthy. This situation with Mom and Dad sneaked up on us. Dad played 18 holes of golf two days before he went into the hospital! And, he didn’t let on to us kids how bad mom’s mental condition had become. When I asked him why, he said, “Because I didn’t want to admit it was true.” Sweet man. He was in denial.
Now that we are faced with the reality, we just have to deal with it head-on. I hope mom can find peace in her new place.
I hope so too. I’m sure it makes it easier when you have people that love and care for you around. Sounds like the staff are really good too. That must be a comfort for you all.
Oh Robin – I gobbled up every word of this post because of the way you describe how your mother gobbled up the documents she read. What a wonderful outcome – a great big phew for you and I hope you’ve had a couple of scotches by now! Such a difficult time for you – my thoughts are aimed in your direction.
I knew you would relate to my day today. Gosh, this is hard. Mom’s behavior is unpredictable. I was with my old mom tonight, but am afraid I will find an unrecognizable mom again in the morning. I hope the euphoria she felt tonight lingers . . . will it?
Anthony’s dementia is so unpredictable that he can be lucid and reasonable one minute and totally off the planet the next. I am trying now to not have any expectations and go with the flow. It’s hard isn’t it!
Hard doesn’t begin to describe the situation, as you know. It is funny, in a not funny way, but I don’t mind repeating myself with Mom. I get frustrated with her when she gets snarky and mean spirited. It doesn’t do any good to snark back. Redirection works the best.
My good wishes to you and Anthony. We are in this together!
Here it is: http://thelaughinghousewife.wordpress.com/2011/06/24/newsflash-riot-at-poetry-gig/
Holy smokes . . . way to make a girl cry.
Oops! 😦
That’s ok. I love what you did.
😀
I think the magic came when her attitude changed. The power of reasoning through the written word is…magical 🙂
I once did a poetry reading at a home for dementia patients. They say that poetry is great for such people. I had a blast. I’ll see if I can find the link.
Does your Mum like poetry? It might be worth giving her some to read.
That is a lovely idea. I found and gave a book of prayers for her today, and isn’t praying like internal poetry? How good of you to read to folks with dementia. I’m sure it was a wonderful experience for all of you. I’ll check out the post I see you just sent.