Showing posts with label personality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personality. Show all posts

Monday, 31 October 2016

How dementia and personality interact

We talk A LOT in dementia care about how dementia changes a person. Often it's distilled down into very negative language, and bracketed as 'challenging behaviour' (a phrase I dislike immensely). Yet, the spectrum of change is immense, very personal to each individual, and definitely worthy of far greater exploration and understanding.

Part of the reason that I think so many people struggle with the personality changes associated with dementia is you can't 'see' them in the way you can see a physical problem. Whilst physical changes can be very distressing - for example if a person becomes immobile, loses weight, loses teeth, wears a catheter or needs help to eat - we associate that type of change with a need to care for that person, helping to minimise any discomfort and keep them as well as possible.

Personality changes in the general discourse of life are bracketed under the 'mental health' banner, and as such have an additional stigma attached to them, before you even add in dementia as a factor. We also make a lot of assumptions when associating personality changes with dementia, most notably:

   That the person with dementia has never experienced this type of change before. Are we really sure that in their whole life course to this point that they haven't had times when they've been emotional, depressed or angry? They may have concealed these feelings from others, even people very close to them. The difference may be that now they’ve developed dementia, they find it harder to conceal these elements of their personality.
 
   That every person who develops dementia was a 'nice' person before they developed dementia. It may be unpalatable to admit it but we are all different, and some people just don't get on with other people of contrasting personalities no matter how much we might want them too - be they other residents in a care home, health and social care staff or even their own family. That, as they say, is life.

Personality changes can be temporary or permanent for a person with dementia, depending upon  the damage to the person's brain (for example a stroke may mean an instant change for a person), the type of dementia they have (for example people with a form of frontotemporal dementia may have more pronounced personality changes), and other factors such as who is around the person (the company of some individuals may trigger different reactions), their environment, other health conditions, side-effects of medications, and even issues like changes in the seasons (increased darkness in winter for example) or memories of certain times of the year, events, people or places.
 
Personality changes encompass as many differences as you can imagine. Examples include:

    A previously relaxed person becoming very anxious or angry (or vice-versa).

    A previously more detached person becoming much more emotional (or vice-versa).

    A previously tough person becoming a lot 'softer' and showing their feelings more (or vice-versa) - This was true for my dad.

    A previously private person becoming more of an exhibitionist (or vice-versa).

    A previously tolerant person becoming intolerant (or vice-versa).

You may recognise someone you love, or yourself, as having undergone such a change, even a more subtle one, as a result of developing dementia. What I think those of us without dementia, and particularly family carers and health and social care professionals, need to understand is that:
 
   Change is ok, even changes that we perceive as difficult. The more we worry, try to correct, mourn and yearn for the person 'as they were' the harder we make it for the person with dementia and ourselves. Adjustment is hard, I know that only too well, but failure to adjust is harder still.

   If we can adapt our approach and interactions with the person, we have the ability to offer the mental equivalent of what I wrote about above in relation to physical changes, namely to; "Care for that person, helping to minimise any discomfort and keep them as well as possible". Examples of how to do this are through person-centred care, life-story work, reablement, occupation, sensory therapies (including touch), making spiritual connections, music, our approach to personal care, and even by something as simple as modifying the way we communicate.

   Don't automatically view medication as the answer - often the first resort for any 'negative' personality changes is to assume that the person is depressed and put them onto anti-depressants. Medication may be suitable in a few situations, but generally the answer is greater understanding, care and support on the part of those around the person. Again, it goes back to the points about adjustment and adaptation.

Every day can, and often is, very different. Sometimes the changes in a person's personality may be more, or less, pronounced. If they become less pronounced, you may feel like the person is 'returning to their old self', only to see the 'reversal' of that the next day, week or month. It can seem cruel, and is a fertile breeding ground for the 'blame game', where the person with dementia, or a carer or family member, feels such changes very personally. If changes can be linked to a particular aspect of the person's life, then mitigating against that trigger could obviously be very beneficial, but sometimes there is no apparent 'reason' apart from the unpredictability of dementia.
 
During my dad's latter years with dementia I saw him cry more than I had in all of the years prior to that. I saw anger and anxiety too, which I wouldn't have associated with my dad prior to his dementia. With the power of hindsight, however, I can also see reasons for these differences in him, ways in which I, and others, may have contributed to them, not to mention environments like hospitals and care homes, and some medication he was given.
 
That's not to in any way exclude how vascular dementia affected my dad's brain - so much of what he experienced was, from the perspective of the physical changes in his brain, beyond our control. Coming to terms with that, whilst trying to provide the very best care and support you can, is a balancing act that is as fine as any personality change can be.
 
Until next time...
Beth x







You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886

 

Monday, 30 May 2016

Sectioning people with dementia

Over the four years I’ve been writing this blog, I've met or been contacted by many families whose loved ones with dementia have been sectioned (detained in hospital without consent under the Mental Health Act). Sometimes the sectioning has occurred prior to a diagnosis of dementia, with the person then being diagnosed during their period of detention in a secure mental health hospital, and sometimes the sectioning has happened after a diagnosis and while they are living with a form of dementia.

Fortunately my father was never sectioned, which is just as well since I am opposed to it in relation to people with dementia in all but the most extreme circumstances. When I say extreme circumstances I'm talking about where a person with dementia is violently unwell and every effort has been made, prior to sectioning, to utilise every other avenue of care and support available.

As we know, people from all walks of life develop dementia, including people with long-term mental health disorders like schizophrenia and bipolar (manic-depression). The addition of a form of dementia for a person with a mental health disorder may result in a particular set of circumstances that makes sectioning necessary.

Equally, we know that dementia can itself cause significant changes in a person's personality, when they have no previous history of mental health illness. If those changes result in a person taking up a dangerous weapon and threatening themselves or others, again sectioning may be the only option.

These are, by any stretch of the imagination, extreme circumstances. They also affect a very, very small proportion of people with dementia. Yet figures published by the Health and Social Care Information Centre on 23rd October 2015, for the year 2014/15, showed that people aged 60 to 89 were most likely to be detained (Sectioned) under the Mental Health Act, with the number of detentions in each of these age groups (60-69, 70-79, 80-89 and 90 or over) all being over 43.0 per 100 people who spent time in hospital.

It would be a reasonable assumption, given that diagnosis of dementia is highest amongst older people, to suggest that dementia was a factor in many of these detentions. The question is, however, was sectioning the best form of care for these individuals? Most people with dementia live with progressive symptoms that cause them various challenges, and which the people around them need to respond to in ways that help to alleviate any distress they are feeling.

Sectioning is not a method of care that is likely to succeed in alleviating distress for the average person, or indeed for anyone bar those experiencing the most extreme symptoms and in the most extreme circumstances. It is most likely to result in a 'chemical cosh' being administered, and often that results in the long-term use of antipsychotic medication that is generally only removed if the person is fortunate enough to come into contact with clinicians and care professionals who have a more progressive outlook.

Fortunate is a word that I shouldn't need to use in relation to dementia care, but that is the harsh reality for some people who are living with dementia and being medicated to 'control' their 'behaviour'. Sectioning for a person with dementia, or someone who is suspected of having dementia, is a blunt tool that is still, in my opinion, used in circumstances that it should never be.

It can be used where healthcare professionals are wrongly assessing a situation, or don't have access to other methods of supporting a person with dementia - for example highly skilled social care that rehabilitates the person in a specialist care home environment that is designed for people with dementia and that provides person-centred, rehabilitative, therapeutic care.

It is sometimes used where a person with dementia is displaying 'challenging behaviour' (a term I dislike immensely) when in reality if their needs were met they wouldn't appear so distressed. In all bar the most extreme circumstances that I talk about above, a person with dementia lashing out isn't a sign that they need to be controlled by the means of a section if they won't 'co-operate' with the authorities.

Other circumstances I’ve heard of where a section has been used include carer burnout, where the family of the person have reached a complete breakdown. It’s pretty obvious, but if we supported family carers better to begin with such a circumstance wouldn’t develop. Another example can be extreme self-neglect, where a person living alone has neglected themselves to such an extent their life is in danger. Again, sectioning here is a bit like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted. With an earlier, gentler intervention the situation never needs to deteriorate to a point where a section is being considered or used.

I'm not naïve; I know that not every person with dementia will avoid spending time in a 'secure unit', much as I would like them to. My father spent one 3 month spell in a 'secure unit' at our local hospital, was medicated and lost half of his body weight, and I don't doubt that some of the people locked in that unit had been sectioned. I just feel that sectioning is the most severe end of mental health care and should be reserved for the extreme circumstances that I detailed above, not as a short cut to ‘dealing’ with a person who has dementia and isn’t ‘conforming’ to what others expect of them.

I dislike immensely the idea of controlling people with dementia, and sectioning effectively does that. Moreover, I question the long-term good it is likely to do. Dependency on medication, the development of a whole host of other health issues as a result, severe deterioration of the person’s dementia, and complete dependency on the health and social care systems for the rest of their life. It’s not a pretty picture.

The solution? That sectioning is seen as being the extreme, last resort event that it should be, rather than a go-to ‘solution’ for ‘problematic cases’. Improvements in awareness and education around dementia, particularly the understanding around the physical changes in the person’s brain. And most importantly, the embracing of person-centred, rehabilitative, therapeutic support, delivered in an environment that enables rather than disables the person with dementia.

Until next time...
Beth x








You can follow me on Twitter: @bethyb1886