|Me singing to my dad, July 2011|
Over the many years of my father’s dementia we tried numerous different therapies to improve his wellbeing and engagement, and by far the most successful was music. It helped that he had adored music his whole life, right from when he was a chorister at Cathedral School through to my childhood when his strong, perfectly tuned voice would rise above everyone else’s at Sunday church services. For a family so vociferously against chemical cosh drugs, music was the naturally therapeutic choice for my dad.
When my father went into his first care home, like most families we got him a TV for his room, but very soon afterwards it was broken, a godsend for dad as he no longer had to sit and watch mind-numbing rubbish that he had no concept of. He still watched his favourite sports and old films on the big screen in the communal lounge, but his room became a haven of music thanks to his CD player and all the albums he amassed via Christmas and birthday presents.
Our approach wasn’t without its teething problems. We went through a phase of having to continually remind the staff not to put the radio on, as the CD player was there for dad to listen to his music, not for the younger generation to enjoy the local station blaring out modern pop tunes, but otherwise I can honestly say that the CD player was pretty much the finest thing we ever bought dad. In fact it was used so much that we actually went through three machines in the eight and a half years dad was in care.
When my father’s dementia progressed to the point where he had very little conversational ability, and latterly could say no more than a word or two, he would still listen to songs and say the lyrics at precisely the right time, proving that not only did he still know the words but he knew exactly where they fitted within the song. Dad’s expressions and reactions showed how much joy, comfort and pleasure music brought him, and you cannot ask for more than that when you are caring for someone with dementia.
Seeing the effect music had on dad persuaded me to use my singing training to go into other homes, and in 2011 I did 35 gigs in care homes, all of which had at least some audience members living with dementia. My experiences paint a very mixed picture of how different homes and providers approach music therapy sessions. Some welcomed me with open arms, their staff engaged with my show and as a result supported audience members to gain the maximum from having me there. Others used my arrival to simply dump their residents in chairs around the edge of a dimly lit room, with the hardest of hearing placed the furthest away from me, close the door, and leave me with my audience while they went to have a coffee break.
Despite most relatives wanting extensive activities programmes for their loved ones in care homes, and the availability of external entertainers and specialists to come in and supplement that, sadly it is often an under-funded area. The experience I had is that whilst my shows were very well received, activities organisers were unable to re-book me, or indeed anyone else, as either their budget had been cut or they had to fundraise.
Activities like music, art, exercise and reminiscence are vital for people with dementia, and yet they are neither valued nor supported by many care home operators, including some of the biggest companies in the country. It is often seen as easier to just sit residents in front of a TV and leave them there.
There is also a huge lack of understanding about how something as simple as putting appropriate music on can change the atmosphere amongst residents. It infuriates me when care homes play modern pop music to their residents when they could be playing music that will offer residents the chance to reminisce. Hospitals with agitated patients could use less chemical coshes if they were more innovative with music therapies. On one of my father’s hospital admissions we were fortunate enough to be given a side room with a CD player, and having brought in some of his favourite music, the change in his mood was phenomenal.
Music therapy isn’t just for people in the latter stages of dementia either. I am now involved with the Alzheimer’s Society ‘Singing for the brain’ programme, which is a fantastic initiative that provides a supportive and sociable group where people living with dementia can come with their carer and ‘sing to express, not to impress’. The focus is on joining in, feeling engaged and improving wellbeing, not on auditioning for X Factor!
Seeing the faces of everyone in the group light up with different songs and styles of singing is hugely rewarding. It reminds me so much of the work I did last year, and how groups of sleepy, agitated or incoherent residents were transformed into mini choirs when I started singing songs they loved. Some people even got up and danced, and in one home a relative told me that she had never seen such an amazing atmosphere.
In my view all care homes should provide ‘Singing for the Brain’ type sessions as a mandatory service, and the huge availability of digital music and MP3 players should promote further, more personalised, engagement for residents. I have read really interesting stories of iPod’s being used very successfully in care communities in America, and the UK needs to catch up with these technological advances. Given the fees being paid by care home residents across the country, this should be just the tip of the iceberg in terms of innovation in how therapeutic dementia care is provided.
Until next time...
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Once again, thank you Beth. This entry has prompted me to prevent my Dad from sending my Mum's old music cassettes to the charity shop. I will endeavour to transfer them to CD so she can continue to listen, enjoy & singalong.ReplyDelete