Coronavirus and living with dementia - Coping in unprecedented times

It’s not easy to know where to begin with a blog on the current monumentally uncertain times that the world is facing, but I’m going to attempt to address the coronavirus disaster (I don’t think the word crisis goes far enough) in this and subsequent blogs as we all try to adjust to the unprecedented circumstances we find ourselves in.

Firstly, way back (well it seems like a long time ago now!) when we first heard about this virus in December and as it escalated into January, it frightened me. Reports of the pneumonia it causes sent a shudder through me with vivid recollections of how my father - over a period of around a month - fought and died, drowning from the inside as his lungs filled with fluid. 

Anyone who thinks this is a trivial disease is so incredibly misguided and, in common with experts and governments around the world, I have one simple message: STAY AT HOME AND SAVE LIVES. 

I appreciate, however, that the fundamental change to the only way of life most, if not all, of us have ever known is a huge ask. I’m having to do it - currently self-isolating with my mum (who is 80) and trying to keep a 4-year-old entertained while I devote my working time to writing as all of my consultancy work is indefinitely postponed. It’s not easy, and if you are supporting a loved one with dementia, it will be even harder. 

I’ve been asked a few questions by families in this position over the last few weeks, and in this blog (and others) I will share my answers:

Help! How do we hand-wash more?

I know lots of people are struggling with this simply because A) a person with dementia may not remember to wash their hands, and B) even if the person remembers, they may be unsure of how to wash their hands or not do it with the thoroughness and for the length of time needed.

In his years living at home before his diagnosis, my dad struggled with personal hygiene, and although his care homes tried to remedy this, hand washing wasn’t frequent. Dad’s hands often looked dirty, even when he was about to be given a meal, mostly from remnants of old food or possibly even where he had put his hand into his incontinence pad. This was particularly noticeable once he was immobile.

So, this is a very real problem even before coronavirus magnified the need for scrupulous hand-washing. Some key points to remember to support a person living with dementia who is struggling with hand washing:

• Is it clear where the washing facilities are? Signage around the home can help the person to navigate their way to the bathroom or cloakroom to wash their hands. 
• Once inside the bathroom or cloakroom, is it clear where the basin, taps and soap are? Try to have contrasting colours to make it more obvious.
• Does the person know how to turn the taps on, how to get soap out of the dispenser, and do they remember how to wash their hands? Again, signage (pictures and words) can help to jog the person’s memory and support them to remain independent.

If the person is immobile, try what I used to do with my dad:

• I’d get a bowl of warm, soapy water and put it on a table in-front of dad or on his lap if he was calm. 
• We’d both put our hands in together, and using extra soap I’d gently wash his hands and wrists and scrub under his nails, taking my time and making it a relaxing experience.
• I’d then put dad’s hands into a towel, go and change the water for fresh, clean warm water and return to rinse his hands before doing a final dry on another clean towel.

It wasn’t a quick process, but very effective, especially for soaking off stuck on dirt, and from a sensory perspective it was lovely to both have our hands in warm soapy water together. I doubt from a virus prevention perspective it would be anywhere near as efficient as washing under running water as we’ve all been told to do, but if the person is immobile and it’s not possible to get them to a basin it would be better than no hand washing at all.

For a person with dementia who dislikes the feeling of water, hand sanitiser (with alcohol) is an alternative to hand washing. Sanitiser is, though, in short supply and I’ve had zero success finding any of this for our household.

Help! How do we self-isolate?

Many people with dementia will be living with other conditions like heart or lung problems that make them particularly at risk from coronavirus, or indeed their age will be a risk-factor. Avoiding developing this virus is by far the best policy, but self-isolation carries many challenges for a person who is already confused and frightened. My tips to support each other include:

• Avoid an overload of tension and a desire to ‘get out’ from all members of a household by having a consistent routine and lots of things to focus on each day. 
• Support a person with dementia to engage in hobbies they like or indeed to try new activities. If you need materials to support hobbies or activities, look online to see what can be delivered. Stores like Hobbycraft offer home delivery, but it will take longer than usual for your items to arrive (and of course there are lots of other arts and crafts websites too).
• An internet connection can be invaluable in terms of being able to keep in touch with family and friends via video calls or messaging, and so many services - like singing groups or exercises classes - are now being streamed online. These are at set times and are brilliant for helping to add structure to a day at home. Some other examples to try:
• Join the fabulous Wendy Mitchell for her ‘Web with Wendy’ sessions (the next sessions are 31 March and 2 April). Wendy says of these sessions: “I would like to invite you to a virtual cuppa on the web to discuss anything and everything....no questions out of bounds....”
• Participate in laughter yoga, designed to put a smile on participants faces during these testing times. Find out more about Everybody Laugh Together on their Facebook page. 
• Try some of the numerous virtual tours of museums, galleries, gardens and so much more in the UK and abroad. Do an internet search for the type of virtual tour you are interested in and be immersed in another world.
• You could also consider modifying some of the things we’ve been asked to do as a family:
• We’ve had requests for our daughter’s artwork to be sent to some of my care home clients - there is no reason why adult artwork wouldn’t be just as gratefully received. 
• My writing skills are being requested for everything from pen-pal services to life story research. Again, there is no reason why a person living with dementia at home, supported by their partner or family, couldn’t become a pen-pal for a person in a care home and mutually reminisce together.

Next month I will look more in-depth at how families can cope when their loved one is in a care home in isolation. Until then:

• Keep safe
• Stay at home
• Keep your distance from others
• Don’t panic buy
• Look after yourselves
• And stay well.

You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886
Like D4Dementia on Facebook

I need you

In my 2013 blog post ‘What is dementia’ I focused on the symptoms of dementia, noting the following amongst my very long list of ways in which a person can be affected by dementia:

“An increasing need for reassurance (someone who was previously independent becoming clingy or losing confidence), or a need to be constantly reminded about things”

Back then, I wasn’t aware of the phrase ‘trailing’ or describing a person with dementia as ‘following’ others around. I literally just thought of the need to be close to someone you trust as a need for reassurance.

However, watching the recent BBC Documentary ‘Granddad, dementia and me’, the phrase ‘obsessed’ was used repeatedly to explain Tom (who is living with vascular dementia) needing to be close to his wife (and carer) Pam. Tom’s need to be constantly with Pam had, for Pam, got to a point where she needed some time away from Tom.

The film throws up numerous issues which I will explore in my August D4Dementia blog, but I think the need Tom had to be close to Pam, and the effect on Tom and Pam's wellbeing when they were happily reunited towards the end of the documentary, is a really interesting one.

From the perspective of a spouse or family member, if you are used to your loved one being fairly independent, the way in which dementia can leave a person without the confidence to be on their own can be difficult to understand, adjust to or successfully support. Many spouses or family members end up feeling suffocated and like they haven’t got a minute to themselves. This was very strongly portrayed in ‘Granddad, dementia and me’ which in the early part of the film really made Tom look - to someone without a good understanding of dementia - like he was a nightmare to live with.

Look behind the visuals a TV camera provides, however, and the story is a different one. Firstly, the changes in his brain caused by his vascular dementia (the same type of dementia my dad had) weren’t Tom’s fault (even with risk reduction, no one is guaranteed to not develop a type of dementia). These changes were even more baffling for Tom than those around him – unless you are a person living with dementia, you cannot possibly understand exactly what it feels like to be a person who is.

When things are happening to us that we don’t understand, the natural human tendency we have from birth is to gravitate towards someone who is familiar, who we trust, find comfort with and love. We want to know that everything is ok. And if we have an unmet need that we cannot articulate, the natural reaction is to search for someone who might be able to interpret this, which is most likely the person we are closest to in our life, usually our spouse if our parents are no longer around.

In parenting, this is a given. As mums and dads we accept and expect that our young child will seek us out when they need us, particularly if they don’t have the language to articulate their needs or the ability to meet them independently. Indeed, clinginess in a young child is otherwise known as the child seeing you as a ‘secure base’, with separation anxiety accepted as a natural part of child development.

I appreciate that in marriage this isn’t a given – you marry an independent adult and expect them to remain that way. But there is another way of looking at the reassurance a person with dementia needs from the person closest to them – You are their ‘secure base’. It is a mark of how strong your bond is that you are the person that your loved one needs to be closest to.

I’m not for one moment suggesting an adult with dementia is now a child – they remain an adult regardless of their cognitive impairment. But the narrative and attitudes we have towards happy and successful parenting, and the narrative and attitudes we have towards supporting a person who is living with dementia, are poles apart and children are definitely getting the better deal!

That is not to in any way undermine the huge efforts made by families around the world in caring for their loved ones who are living with dementia. I was appalled at the criticism of Pam and her family – yes, we can all spot mistakes from the comfort of our sofa, but when you are living the experience it is very different.

What I wish is that Tom, Pam and their family could have been shown receiving really proactive support to ensure that they could give Tom what he needed. The film showed that medicating Tom wasn’t the answer, and two periods as a mental health inpatient (including sectioning – my views on sectioning are here) didn’t help.

So what is general good advice for any family whose loved one wants to be with them 24/7:

Occupation and activity

One of the major features of the first part of Tom's film is how little he had to occupy himself with. He was never shown to have any responsibilities or daily tasks, meaningful occupations, hobbies or activities that he enjoyed – not a healthy situation for a person who’d been a high-achieving, hardworking businessman.

 

That is not to say that everyone who lives with dementia will feel motivated to do things, my dad certainly went through a period when he refused to do anything except watch TV and look at books, and many people with dementia develop depression alongside their dementia which can also contribute to not wanting to do anything, but presenting those opportunities and making them a consistent part of every day life is vital.

 

Disabling people when they still have capabilities is a disaster. Not realising the person still has capabilities is a double disaster.

 

Do things together

So, you might think that ideal occupations and activities are ones that the person does alone, but think again. The person may not know how to begin, let alone successfully complete, a task. Doing things together not only means you being able to guide the person, but it enables the person to model what you are doing – it’s a subtle activity that is often wordless, and may happen without you even realising it as the person watches and copies you. A simple but vital way to boost the person’s independence without them having to acknowledge ways in which they are struggling.

 

Get your environment in order

If the person can’t remember their way to the bathroom or the kitchen, they are more likely to rely on following you to find their way. Some dementia friendly signage and simple design changes can all help to augment the person’s independence – see the world-leading dementia design work from Stirling University for tips and ideas.

 

Be the voice of confidence and reassurance

You may well be tired of telling your loved one "You can do it", but dementia is a very big voice in a person’s life that, essentially, is trying to hold them back, making the person insecure, vulnerable and lacking in confidence. As the most trusted person in your loved one’s life, you have the ability to stop that juggernaut in its tracks (temporarily at least) by being a constant source of support, confidence and reassurance. As the Bette Midler song goes:

 

Did you ever know that you're my hero,

And everything I would like to be?

I can fly higher than an eagle,

For you are the wind beneath my wings

 

Accept the unsaid

Hard and exhausting though the need for constant reassurance and company may be, accepting three little words – that will most likely never be said out loud - can be transformative for your resilience.

"I need you" is what your loved one’s quest for reassurance and confidence is really saying. Take it from someone who was once that needed person, it may be hard at the time but it’s harder when you are no longer needed.

 

Until next time...

You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886

LIKE D4Dementia on Facebook

 

Why activity is everyone's business

Go into most care homes and you will see a familiar array of staff, from carers to chefs, housekeepers to maintenance personnel. A role you will also often encounter is that of an 'activity coordinator'. All of my dad's three care homes had activity coordinators, all of whom were women and some clearly more suited to the role than others.

In essence an activity coordinator is charged with ensuring that everyone living in the care home gets to do activities that they want to do and enjoy doing. The scope for those activities is largely dictated to by budget, with some care homes having extensive 'activity' programmes that include trips out and even holidays, while others literally scrape around to find pens and paper for residents who want to draw.

Whilst I am the first person to advocate that people living in care homes should have opportunities to engage in 'activity', I am not a fan of the 'activity coordinator' role. Why? Because in my view activity is everyone's business.

By creating a role in a care home that is centred around activity, everyone else working in the care home automatically defaults to that individual for anything related to activity. This is seen with other roles, where everyone goes to the chef for matters relating to food, and everyone goes to the maintenance person if something needs fixing.

The other reason I'm not a fan of this role is that activity is about everything that happens in the day, from the moment you get up to the moment you go to bed. Given that people living in a care home spend most of their day with care staff, it is vital that care staff recognise that everything they do to support that person is, in itself, an activity.

By taking this approach, it is then much easier for care staff to appreciate the need to support the person to do as much as possible, thus retaining maximum independence, rather than just automatically doing everything for them and effectively de-skilling them and taking over their life.

Making a cup of tea, having a shower, getting dressed - these are all activities, just as much as bingo and singing groups. And they can all be expanded upon to go beyond the purely functional. So, for example, making a cup of tea could be about doing it 'the old fashioned way' with loose leaf tea and a tea pot, sparking a reminiscence session. Having a shower could become a full on pampering session, with some gentle exfoliation of hard skin, a massage with body lotion afterwards or a full-on salon-style blow dry. Getting dressed could be about coordinating colours and outfits, dressing up or dressing down, and might even lead onto a mending session if clothing needs some TLC.

Throughout any of these 'activities' songs could be sung, conversation could flow, laughter could be triggered and memories could be drawn upon and mulled over. The problem is, if your care home has an activity coordinator, he or she is unlikely to be involved in these 'care' related activities, and thus these daily occurrences just become bland tasks for the care workforce to 'get through'.

In my consultancy work with care providers, I look at the structure of the workforce in a care home, who is responsible for what, how those responsibilities are carried out, and whether there is, in fact, a better way of approaching how the care home operates. A huge focus for me is how holistic a care home can become, which in practice means frontline staff taking on a more fluid role that responds to the individual needs of the people living in the care home and treats every interaction as an opportunity to create a special moment with that person.

It is irrelevant if those moments will be remembered, and the fact that they might not is no reason not to create them. There is often a belief that group 'activity' sessions are more memorable, but actually as a person's dementia advances, it is often the one-to-one time spent doing something very simple and very familiar, like eating, drinking, folding laundry or making the bed that enhances wellbeing and quality of life more.

Persuading staff to be creative and expressive whilst providing this type of essential support is often very challenging; many would much rather just default to the activity coordinator when conversation and interaction is needed. But care staff who approach their work with an emphasis on both supporting the person and creating an activity out of everything they do generally have much more job satisfaction.

So what would I suggest care providers do with their activity coordinators? By all means turn them into event managers, charged with creating those important community experiences in the care home, and indeed helping people living in the care home to get out and about. If they are great communicators and creative types (which they certainly should be!), then utilise that to show other staff how to communicate more effectively and be creative in their support.

Encourage all of your staff to show off their talents - you may have some real gems who can play instruments or sing beautifully, people who are good at needlework, crafts, gardening, cooking or DIY. Support them to bring those talents into their job, whatever their 'official' role is meant to be. And likewise with your residents and relatives - find out what talents they have and how they might express those for individual benefit or the greater good.

The best care homes do this seamlessly, because they appreciate that activity is everyone's business and they facilitate that way of working. It may mean staff allocations need to change or rotas need to be adjusted. It may mean that someone in one role is actually much more suited to something else. It will almost certainly need training, mentoring and monitoring, but ultimately you will have created a care home far closer to what a home truly is, and what living a life in a care home and working in one should represent.

Until next time...

You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886

LIKE D4Dementia on Facebook

Holiday season

August in the UK is traditionally seen as the holiday month. Apart from the fact that most families with school-age children are restricted to holidaying at this time of year due to education regulations, there seems to be a mass desire to ‘get away’ in what is meant to be the height of the UK summer.

With this holiday season in mind, I thought it would be apt to explore the idea of holidays, past and present, in the context of people who are living with dementia. Vacations are seen as one of the most positive and enriching aspects of life from childhood to retirement, but how do they fit with the stigmatisation of dementia?

People who are newly diagnosed:

One of the aspects of life that people often feel will have to end once they are diagnosed with dementia is going away on holiday. Holidays are frequently seen as the preserve of the young and people who are healthy and retired, while many people with dementia are subjected to Prescribed Disengagement™ (as described by Kate Swaffer, a lady living with dementia) upon receiving their diagnosis.

Of course we’re all different, and holidays aren’t for everyone. Certainly my dad, a man who never travelled beyond the UK and even then was reluctant to ever go to new places, would have viewed a holiday as an endurance rather than a pleasure, but if you’re a person who enjoys going on holiday a diagnosis of dementia isn’t a reason to stop doing what gives you pleasure for as long as you feel able to continue with that.

The challenges of change when you’re on holiday:

As much as a person with dementia and their loved one(s) might want to go away on holiday, there is often anxiety on both sides about how the vacation will work out. Routine is very important, indeed vital, for many people with dementia, and holidays are naturally a break with that, although depending on the type of holiday you choose you might still be able to keep some familiar routines.

Other concerns are often around travelling arrangements and time spent travelling, differences in living accommodation (layout/comfort/design), the geography of the local area and the availability of familiar foods. Sleep patterns can also be disturbed in unfamiliar environments, and changes in temperature/climate can be problematic.

To help avoid conflicts and upsets, it’s important to understand what each person on the holiday wants out of it and think about where you are going to go very carefully. Choosing a venue that is used to supporting people with dementia and their loved one(s) should help to minimise problems and give you the peace of mind to look forward to your holiday. 

Some suggestions of such venues are here: http://www.dementiaadventure.co.uk/adventures/venues (Please note this link is provided for information, and should not be seen as an endorsement of any particular venue or activity). For additional options, it’s always worth investigating assisted holidays for people with disabilities – it may not seem like an obvious internet search, but some companies that support people with physical disabilities may also have the ability or contacts to support people who are living with dementia.

'Respite' / carer breaks:

There is a perception of ‘respite’ for family carers that is characterised by the person with dementia going into care while their family carer(s) go away for a break. Whilst this may be a model that suits some families perfectly, it is important to recognise that other families want to do things differently. They don’t necessarily want to be separated from their loved one and instead want to be supported to go away as a family.

This is just another example of where a one-size-fits-all approach really doesn’t work, and the individual needs and wishes of families have to be explored and wherever possible supported and facilitated. Many of the holiday venues I’ve listed above do exactly this, and hopefully we’ll see many more examples in the future.

The cost:

Cost is a significant factor for most people when they are looking at taking a holiday, and many of us save for many months or even years to afford to go away. Such saving doesn’t always fit in with the unpredictability of dementia, however, and many people who are diagnosed feel an urgency to fulfil some of their travelling dreams while they are still at the height of their cognitive powers.

Other cost considerations when a person’s dementia is more advanced can be around paying for professional care, or taking a larger than usual family group on holiday so that relatives can take turns in providing more intensive care and support.

In addition, given that dementia care comes under the umbrella of social care, which in the UK is means tested, many people may simply not be able to afford to have a holiday because all of their income/savings have been spent on modifications to their home or professional care fees.

Reminiscing about holidays:

Even if health or financial factors prevent a person with dementia taking a holiday, it doesn’t mean that the many positive aspects associated with holidays have to be abandoned. Reliving past holidays through photographs, family videos, scenic pictures hung on the wall, exotic cuisine or music that is synonymous with vacations gone by can all help to engender a holiday spirit. Think too about textures and sounds - sand, rocks and wave sounds might help to prompt reminiscence about trips to the beach.

A few care homes I’ve visited have gone even further, creating beach ‘installations’ complete with deckchairs, sand and sea pictures, and some are regularly visited by the ice-cream van selling the traditional 99p cone with vanilla ice-cream.

Of course nothing will replace the excitement, discovery or relaxation many of us experience when we go away on holiday, but keeping memories alive when going away is no longer possible can still help to engender some of the feel-good factors associated with holidays.

Until next time...

You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886

LIKE D4Dementia on Facebook  

Reablement for people with dementia

As we approach Easter, a time associated with rebirth, new life, possibility and opportunity, I have found myself thinking about how this correlates with the experience of living with dementia. Historically, a diagnosis of dementia has been seen as a death sentence to endure and suffer, but since that doesn’t tally with how I look back on the years I had with my dad during his dementia, I have become increasingly interested in the concept of reablement.

Reablement is generally associated with helping a person to regain the ability to look after themselves following an illness or injury. You are most likely to see services dedicated to reablement for people who are recovering from trauma (I distinctly remember the wonderfully holistic package of reablement given to my half-brother after he had a road traffic accident), or a stroke, and possibly even for people who are recovering from mental illness or addiction.

I would frame reablement as help to complete essential tasks of daily living, support to pursue hobbies and interests that are mentally and/or physically challenging, and opportunities to grow and develop. For my half-brother, I recall a residential reablement centre he went to after being discharged from hospital where he was supported to look after himself (cooking, laundry, personal care etc), return to participating in the things he enjoyed prior to his accident (hobbies and activities that were important to him), learn new skills, and plan for the future to help him prepare for living independently, getting out and about and returning to employment. He received physiotherapy, occupational therapy, counselling and there were wider family support services.

All of which begs the question, why aren’t the principles of reablement more closely associated with dementia? To put it bluntly, since dementia is a terminal disease, I suspect people with dementia are seen as being unlikely to benefit from a service that supports and encourages independence and autonomy, when traditionally dementia is associated with a degeneration into complete dependence and a loss of voice and identity.

Obviously I’m not questioning the terminal nature of dementia; my dad had vascular dementia on his death certificate. Nor am I suggesting that as dementia progresses a person doesn’t become more dependent -  I know from my dad’s experience that he became totally dependent on 24/7 care, hence why he was in a specialist dementia nursing home for over 8 years.

But behind all of this there are some key variables: 

1.      There is no set pathway for deterioration, everyone experiences this differently and in different time scales. I don’t really support the categorisations of early, middle and late stage dementia – to me these junctures are too specific and not reflective of the fluctuations in the day-to-day life of a person with dementia. Surely aiming to help a person to have the highest level of functioning for as long as possible can only be a good thing?

2.      No matter how advanced a person’s dementia is, there are opportunities for participation in everyday life, it's just that we often don't see these or have time to help them happen. Key examples from my personal experiences are my dad occasionally wanting to take the spoon and feed himself his pureed meal in the last year of his life, or finishing a song in perfect time to the music when he otherwise had virtually no speech. These achievements came about through perseverance, patience and offering encouragement.

3.      We are never going to know what people with dementia are truly capable of if we don’t actually put in the services, like we have for people who experience trauma or stroke, to actually see what is possible. How do we know reablement services aren't just as effective as any of the drugs we currently have , or might have in the future, to treat symptoms or slow down the progression of dementia? Admittedly there have been a few areas of the UK offering reablement to people with dementia, but it certainly isn’t a mainstream service.

Sadly my dad never really experienced any form of official reablement. At the point he was diagnosed with vascular dementia, following ten years of mini strokes and then one much larger stroke, his quality of life and abilities had deteriorated very rapidly. As a family we had been trying to support him but we really didn’t understand what was happening to him, and the health and social care professionals in his life hadn’t been proactive enough to grasp the bull by the horns, diagnose, explain and, crucially, offer dad and us the support we needed.

 

Enabling dad to have maximum independence, occupation and enjoyment in life was pretty much impossible once he was confined to hospital and then moved into the first of the three care homes he would go on to spend the last nine years of his life in. We had some small victories over the years, largely stumbled upon through pure chance – examples include discovering the power of music therapy, the joy of food and eating and the wonderment of connecting with the natural world – but nothing that really fits how I would interpret reablement if I had the chance to live those 19 years of my dad’s dementia with him again.

 

My top tips for reablement success for a person with dementia would be:

1.      Offer reablement in the person’s own home - the type of residential centre my half-brother went to isn't going to be the right model for the majority of people with dementia given the confusion and anxiety a new environment could cause. Equally hospitals, however dementia-friendly they are (and the one my dad was in really wasn’t), don’t offer the familiarity, calmness, opportunities for exploration and expression or the personal touch of home.

2.      Involve a multidisciplinary team of professionals, most notably people who are from the allied health professions, all of whom should be specifically trained in dementia and all of whom should take their lead from the person with dementia. Remember, professionals can learn from the person as well as imparting their own knowledge.

3.      Think out of the box. Is there technology that can help? What about the latest guidance on dementia friendly environments, has this been translated to the person’s home? Away from health/social care, are there individuals within the local community who can provide pastoral or occupational support, visiting or enabling the person to get out and about to enjoy hobbies/activities? Going further, can the person be enabled to get involved in community work/volunteering/awareness raising/public speaking etc – there are some fantastic peer support and mentoring services than can encourage such activity for people who feel it is right for them.

4.      Belief in the possibilities of reablement both for the person with dementia and those who are supporting them – be they family members, friends, neighbours or health and social care professionals – is vital. This means moving away from the historical or traditional views of dementia and seeing the exciting possibilities of reablement and how it feeds into living well.

Alongside these tips, do take a look at this page on the SCIE website: http://www.scie.org.uk/publications/guides/guide49/dementia.asp

 

Interestingly from the perspective of the timely diagnosis agenda, reablement fits perfectly with the idea of catching symptoms early and maximising the person’s potential. Currently diagnosis is often just a label and a prescription – reablement offers something more tangible, providing strategies and opportunities to grow into that diagnosis and live well with it. It should be at the heart of good post-diagnostic support, and if it were, those of us who are doubtful of the merits of diagnosing earlier and earlier might see more justification for it if an accurate diagnosis can be made.

 

Reablement isn’t about giving people with dementia or their families false hope or denying the reality that dementia is still a terminal disease. What reablement offers is the chance to make the best of what we have and do something practical to underpin the message of living well with dementia. Without reablement, I think that there is a very real risk that we give up on people with dementia far too easily.

 

Until next time...

You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886

LIKE D4Dementia on Facebook