Better Environments Help Lynne

Two friends and I made inexpensive and simple changes in her environment that enriched the life experience of Lynne, my daughter with Alzheimer’s. They enriched me as a caregiver.

Dad arrived. Staff had propped open her apartment so Lynne could walk in and out. One of the residents was chanting loudly repeating a guttural sound in the dining room. His rants have bothered Lynne for months. Lynne was in the hallway past the dining room, bent over, hands on her knees, sobbing. She reached for me and hugged me. I put on her headphones as we headed to the lobby where we could walk through the dining area.  

In the lobby she saw a staff member working in a room where I tried to guide Lynne. She resisted. No, I can’t go in there.

Lynne, it’s OK.

No.  In her room. It’s not going to work.

She thrilled me. The change in meds seemed to make her more alert. We walked toward large leather armchairs where I pulled one in front of the other because her eyesight is limited to tunnel vision in front of her. I sat down. She eventually sat down on the other, face to face. She scanned the lobby, quiet with few people. She watched the cars, buses, and pedestrians. Her blue eyes landed on my eyes, then continues to scan more. She points at a 95-year-old resident with her walker. She’s a really ni … Lynne scooted her chair toward me. I scooted my chair closer, and her eyes brightened up a little bit, with part of a smile. The rapid improvements in her mood came from the change from the environment on her floor compared to the lobby without having to medicate her.

I watch every move as closely as I watched her as an infant, loving her as deeply as I did then, and intrigued by the mysteries going on inside her. Her body twitches slightly in her chest and arms. Her hands have mild tremors. She crosses and uncrosses her legs. Her lips are turned down like the sides of a steep hilltop

I repeated tunes in her headset four or five times if she was tracking the lyrics or the beat. She was thinking about something all the time with a running soliloquy that I did not interrupt. Oh. That’s right. Where? Wow. I remember that. Oh nice. OK. The walk more. (Whispered) I don’t want the …. There’s going to be a big riot, or a fire. Yeah.  I need to go up. There. (she pointed with her finger and stood up.)  Yeah, I think so.

She joined a conversation of two staff members in a standup meeting. When they thanked each other, Lynne said, Yeah, thank you.

I talked with several staff about the problems with furniture in the hallways on her floor because she cannot sit and rest, so she bends over and puts her hand on her knees to relieve the pain. The chairs are too small for her. She is afraid to sit down in them because she has fallen several times when she tried. She tenses strongly when two people assist her into a chair. I have given up trying to get her in my car.

Staff has opened her apartment door to at least let her sit on the bed. I re-arranged her room where she has a big armchair at the end of her bed with blankets and pillows on it. I pushed the armchair to the wall and useda black table chair for the blankets. Now Lynne has an open door to a refuge with a comfy arm chair. I urged a couple of staff to get a sofas or large armchairs in the hallways for resident rest stops. I asked staff on the second floor to check with the concierge if Lynne could wander alone safely in the lobby with healthier residents. She walks out of sight into the nooks and crannies on the second floor.

I am immensely pleased I had the time and the ideas to give her a little better life. I feel more meaningful.

And then I get a call from Nancy today. She and a friend took Lynne outside this afternoon for a fantastic time compared to the sedate visit I had with her. Wait until you read Nancy’s post on this blog about the fun Lynne had in their car, Volunteer Park, a donut shop and the Broadway market. Lynne reportedly commented on the young hunks strolling by compared to obsterorous octogenarians she’s running from. I was humbled and thrilled to hear the excitement from Nancy’s voice.