Why they do what they do: AD and the person

There have been several requests and questions about what some people call "behaviors". It is not fashionable to use that term, so we will use the phrase "why they do what they do" or WTDWTD. That is probably too confusing!! Oh well!

Tonight we are going to discuss the foundation of the WTDWTD. The first, but not the only reason, we do what we do is inside our heads. The foundation of what we do is literally found deep in the center of the brain, specifically in the Amegdela. This small little "nub" is found at the tip of the Hipocampus and is the seat of the of our "emotions" or that which makes us who we are. This is most times, intact until the day we die. With a bit of diligence, consistency and understanding we can access this place. We will discuss "how" at another time.

If you follow us over time, you will recognize that a reoccurring theme with Mom, is her desire to "look great". Whether it was her weight, her dress, or her home, she wanted the "wow" factor. The following story is one of the first times I became aware of this trait and I now know it is part of Mom's WTDWTD.

We were not wealthy people. My Mom made many of my clothes as I was growing up. She was a wonderful seamstress. One Christmas when I was about 10 years of age, Mom made me a beautiful baby blue taffeta dress and I adored it. It was then announced that I had a solo song in the School Gala which was a highlight of the season in the small town in which we lived. I guess she thought I needed an even more special dress. The next Saturday she took me to the local department store, which we rarely frequented. She picked out the most beautiful and I am sure the most expensive dress of pink organza and black velvet and purchased it for me. I felt like a princess!! To this day I do not know where she found the money, but I have been eternally grateful!!

Every day, I pick out mom's clothes becuase I know that is important to her even now. Mom can no longer make choices, but it is important to her to approve the clothes for the next day. Some days when I ask her what she thinks of the outfit, she will ask "do you think Delores would approve"? Some days I tell her I think Delores approves and other days I tell her that I picked it out so I approve. I do this in a non confrontational, supportive manor. Based on what I know about the research, and the most success approaches, I try not to correct her or talk to her in "reality orientation" way. I underswtand it is all part of Mom's WTDWTD.

In using this approach our visits rarely become argumentative. I can honor her asking how her hair looks or her very frequently asking how much weight I have lost. Each of these are done numerous times. Because I understand this is just part of who she is, I can love her for it.

Thanks for joining us and may God hold you in the palm of her hand.

I am just a Daughter!

I see my mom quite a few days a week. Because my mission, the last 20 years, has been to to provide the highest quality of life possible to person's with Alzheimer's Disease, I think I should "walk the talk". A few weeks ago, however, I was with Mom and we were watching "Hard Ball" on MSNBC. Mom and I were talking about politics as we watched. Mom's two of loves, in terms of conversation, were politics and sports. Mom can carry on a a great conversation at times, but in the middle of the conversation that night, she started calling out/yelling HELP HELP! Now this is not unusual and it is not ordinarily disturbing. It is what it is, part of the disease. However this had been a tough day, also Mom was not having a great day and neither was I. So I said what, of course you should never say, "Mom if you are going to continue to yell I am going to have to leave". Now that seems heartless in retrospect, but it was how felt at that moment. Mom paused for a moment, turned her head toward me and asked, "Why do you think I do that"?

Now I do talk to her upon occasion about her Dementia/Alzheimer's Disease. Not this night, however. I simply said, "I don't know Mom"

She was silent for a few seconds and then turned to me and said, "do you suppose it could be my dementia?" Well I was blown away!! I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes! I finally said "maybe Mom, maybe"

The rest of the evening felt different! A good laugh can change so much. It turned out to be the gift that keeps on giving as I have told a number of my friends and family and it always brings a smile to their face. I am smiling now as I tell "our" story. Okay, I am not a perfect daughter", but after a good laugh, I could forgive my self.

So keep smiling and enjoy what you can. Thanks for listening to our tale. May god keep you in the palm of his hand.