a glimpse into dementia

I have to admit I have the greatest job in the world. I say this because I think the best things in this world should make us smile and laugh often, and occasionally strike a chord deep within us that moves us to tears. Not tears of sorrow, but the tears that come when you see, hear, or witness something that touches your soul. I have been told by numerous people I should write a book on my experiences in the world of dementia. I fell in love with those who are fighting this disease called dementia and/or Alzheimer's some time ago. I took a position at a nursing home where I assumed I would work with those who needed minimal care, assisted living, I guess you could call it. Boy did I miss the memo on that one. Somehow I had applied and proceeded to accept a position on the late-stage dementia unit which was home to 50 residents. I was responsible to do everything for the ten residents on my caseload they could not do for themselves. It was up to me make sure they had not only everything they needed but everything they wanted as well. No one warned me, at least not in a gentle way, that it was vital to have quick reflexes and a creative imagination in order to survive. When people learn I work with residents who have dementia, the common response is: Do they remember you? There is a slight misconception that dementia solely affects the memory. I have done much research on this disease in order to understand those who suffer with this illness more fully and I must say that memory is a key part, but there is so much more. The first attack this disease makes is on the brain's ability to take a current experience and move this experience from the short term memory bank to the long term memory bank. They can no longer make NEW memories. This is the reason for the stigma attached to the memory portion. For most individuals, memories of people and experiences they have lived with most of their lives, are the last to disappear. As the disease progresses, they lose their ability to think abstractly, they lose their inhibitions, and near the end lose their ability to do simple tasks and require total care. It is a sad disease that I would wish upon no one however, the people behind the disease are a group of individuals for whom I so deeply care for and enjoy. I never knew I would treasure the simple things in life so genuinely, cry so openly with families I hardly knew, or laugh so freely at the unexpected happenings that are characteristic in the world of dementia. I had to preface my writings about my residents by saying all this. So if I tell a story or make a comment about an experience I had, I want those who read to know that it is not with arrogance or a spirit of ridicule that I tell my stories, but in order that I may remember the stories of those who are still living as well as others who have gone on, but all of which I have loved dearly and hold in the deepest part of my heart.