Archives

An Overview of the Most-Commonly-Used Medications to Treat Symptoms in Alzheimer’s Disease and Dementias

There is no cure for dementias or Alzheimer’s Disease. Once the journey begins, its course is downhill, sometimes gradually, sometimes rapidly, but always in decline. 

There may never be a way to prevent these neurological diseases from occurring before the damage is done – I’m going through several neurology-related courses right now and the professors teaching these courses readily admit there is more about the brain’s chemistry, physical structure, communication systems, and function that is not known than is known – but once dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease have begun to damage the brain, there is no remedy.

The brain is a unique organ in the body in that once cells in the brain die, they do not regenerate themselves. They’re dead and gone.

seroquel-namenda-drugs-alzheimer's-disease-vascular-dementia-lewy-body-dementia-going-gentle-into-that-good-night

The neurological damage of dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease cannot be reversed.

So when Mama’s diagnoses came in late July 2010, I had a unique and personal perspective on what that meant for her and for me. “Mid-to-late-stage vascular dementia and mid-to-late-stage Alzheimer’s Disease” from the psychiatrist at the geriatric psychiatric hospital that Mama was in after her meltdown on July 10, 2010 didn’t surprise me. But I knew there was no cure, no going back, no fix.

I transitioned, probably more easily than most family members who hear this for the first time, to “what can we do to stabilize?” The psychiatrist assured me that stabilization was possible, but it would take time and tinkering with the medicines that the symptoms of dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease demand.

I was almost convinced that nothing could turn around the psychosis that Mama was experiencing in full throttle in those days. I realized my own helplessness to help her and make it better for her. I experienced a lot of guilt and inner turmoil because nothing I was doing was working and I knew how much she was suffering and how afraid she was and it was all out of her control and my control.

I was also extremely sad. This was not the mama who had, with open arms along with my daddy, brought my sisters and me into their home through adoption, loving us with a fierceness and tenacity that we struggled with at times but also realized over time was the real deal. This was not the mama who opened her arms, her heart, her door to me when life was banging against me and threatening to destroy me. This was not the mama who put up with me and loved me in spite of myself, at times, unconditionally.

How could I not do the same for her after all she (and Daddy) had done for me? They loved me in spite of myself. How could I not love Mama in spite of herself? This was a no-brainer for me.

It was during the geriatric psychiatric hospital stay that I learned about many of the most-commonly-used medications used to control and improve the symptoms of dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease.

drugs-alzheimer's-disease-dementia-going-gentle-into-that-good-nightAll the medical professionals involved in Mama’s care were very careful to tell us repeatedly that the medications they were trying with Mama were controlling symptoms only.

Since Mama was experiencing hallucinations, paranoia, and delusions, the psychiatrist prescribed SeroquelXR (50 mg twice a day), Citalopram (40 mg a day) for anxiety, Namenda (generic: memantine) for cognition enhancement, Exelon (24-hour-patch/4.6 mg – this is also available in oral form since the patch can cause skin irritation) for cognition enhancement, and Clonazepam (.25 mg/PRN) for extreme agitation as the dementia and Alzheimer’s Disease medication regimen for Mama’s symptoms.

And it worked.

I gave Mama Clonazepam only twice in two years (it knocked her out and I didn’t like the side effects, but it was for extreme agitation and there were only two times when she was agitated to the point of fearing for her heart health, that I decided to give it to her). The rest of this combination of anti-psychotic, anti-depression, anti-anxiety regimen gave Mama a better quality of life from near the end of July 2010 until her death on August 14, 2012.

With the exception of SeroquelXR.

Just after Thanksgiving 2011, Mama awoke one morning with tardive dyskinesia. At the time, I didn’t know what it was, but Mama was scared (and so was I as I watched the involuntary movements that rhythmically were going through her body).

I got Mama to the ER, where a nurse practitioner, who refused to listen to me (and the nurses who were with Mama and me and with whom we were talking to all day) for eight hours, was convinced that the tardive dyskinesia was Mama’s pacemaker going haywire.

So we waited all day in the ER for a cardiac consult that tested Mama’s pacemaker and confirmed it was working properly and not the problem (which I’d been telling the nurse practitioner all day because we’d just had it checked the week before).

Finally, the nurse practitioner decided to admit Mama, and late-stage tardive dyskinesia was diagnosed with the culprit being SeroquelXR.

Mama had Lewy Body dementia as well. It was not diagnosed (a firm diagnoses cannot be made without an autopsy of the brain, but symptoms are quite obvious while our loved ones are living), but I’d seen it, not knowing what I was seeing (I began researching it after Mama’s full-blown symptoms starting appearing in January 2012), just after Mama had gotten out of the geriatric psychiatric hospital when we were going to doctors’ appointments together.

Anti-psychosis drugs and Lewy Body dementia don’t mix well together. Mama was fortunate that she was able to stay on SeroquelXR as long as she was, and for that I am thankful. But we reached a point where we had to choose between mood and hallucinations/delusions.

I chose to help Mama with her mood. I knew I could handle hallucinations and delusions (although, in reality, what I thought I could handle still turned out to be surprising and perplexing, causing me to have to scramble to try to adjust with honesty and integrity even when things got way out of my comfort zone), but I could not handle Mama’s mood swings with these diseases.

So we (the hospitalist and I) went with Depakote Sprinkles (100 mg, 3 times a day – I could mix it with foods and drinks and make it easier for Mama to take) with the hospitalist telling me that Mama’s hallucinations and delusions would come back. 

They did, but they were not particularly scary for Mama (I think because I was there), but they often threw me for a loop initially. I’m probably the least spontaneous person on the planet, so adjusting to these was particularly hard for me, but eventually, I got better at dealing with them and easing Mama’s mind. A new normal for both of us.

These medications that Mama was on are not the only ones used to treat the symptoms of dementias and Azheimer’s Disease, but they are the most common in the mid-to-late stages.

In the early stages, Aricept is commonly prescribed. From everything I have read and heard, it’s efficacy is limited. I believe that this is because by the time most people are diagnosed with dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease, they are already beyond the early stages of the diseases.

I would caution all of us as caregivers to make sure our loved ones are not over-medicated. Many of the anti-psychotics and anti-anxiety drugs can anesthetize our loved ones to an almost-coma-like state, which is not what we or they want or need.

We are their advocates. We are the only people who can fight for our loved ones medically. We have a responsibility to make sure our loved ones suffering from dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease have the best quality of life they can have for as long as they can have it. This is our obligation to them. 

So unless anti-anxiety drugs are absolutely necessary and unless morphine and its derivatives and cousins are absolutely necessary, please don’t give them. They deprive our loved ones and they deprive us of quality time in the face of these terminal diseases. Nobody wants that.

There are medications that I haven’t talked about in this post. If you want to know about any medications that your loved ones may be taking, please comment here or email me at goinggentleintothatgoodnight@gmail.com. I’ve researched many, if not all, the medications used to deal with the symptoms of these diseases, so I’ll be happy to help you with any questions you may have.

The Implicit Agreement We Enter Into As Caregivers for Our Loved Ones with Dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease

For many of us as caregivers for our loved ones with dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease, we choose to enter into the agreement to care for them willingly, without any compensation (we don’t expect it), aware that, in the majority of situations, we will carry the responsibility with little to no help from others and that it’s a lifetime 24/7 obligation that we’re inextricably bound to until our loved ones die. 

trust honesty integrity alzheimer's disease dementiaWe also enter into an implicit ethical agreement with our loved ones when we assume responsibility for their care. We promise implicitly that we will be honest and trustworthy, that we will be supportive, that we will be comforting, that we will be loving, and that our loved ones will want for nothing.

As our loved ones with dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease – parents, grandparents, etc. – did for us when we were babies and children, we promise that, with as much equanimity as possible, we will bear the burdens, carry the worries, handle the vacillations of change, and never abandon them. 

The way I always look at this is that our loved ones (our caregivers) when we were babies and children didn’t know what they were getting into. They could not have possibly imagined or dreamed the things we would say, we would do, and sometimes the trouble and mischief we could find without even trying.

And, yet, for most of us, they hung in there with us, even though it was sometimes hard, sometimes maddening, sometimes frustrating, and sometimes almost unbearable (especially in the teenage years). They didn’t put us away some place, complain about the fact that no one in their families was helping out, or scream and rant and rave about us to other people (well, maybe they did to our friends’ parents when they were alone and traded horror stories about all of us, but we never saw any of evidence of that in their treatment of us).

By agreeing to be caregivers for our loved ones with dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease, we agree to do for them what they did for us. To complete the circle of life as we switch roles with them as they begin their exit from the stage of life.

How well are we living up to our agreement in all the areas that we agreed to?

love dementia alzheimer's diseaseSometimes it’s necessary to just step back and evaluate the agreement we made, why we made it, and whether we are fulfilling the terms that we agreed to.

I know these diseases take a heavy toll on more than just our loved ones. I walked this journey side-by-side with my mama for several years, at first not realizing fully what Mama was experiencing, and then once I did, dealing with it and Mama according to the terms I’d agreed to.

I had my moments of anger, frustration, impatience, and fear, but overwhelmingly what I experienced was fierce protectiveness, deep compassion, strong empathy, and unconditional love. No matter what I was going through, I knew what Mama was going through was worse. The more fragile her own position became, the stronger mine became to be her comfort, her safety, and her rock – even if, at times along the way, she wasn’t, because her brain was betraying her, able to recognize that.

It was never about me. It was always about Mama. Keeping that at the front of my mind and heart at all times helped me be there 100% all the time to do whatever needed to be done to help her.

This is an imperative mindset for us as caregivers. It’s a rare mindset because it has largely disappeared in the general population that has wholeheartedly embraced the “it’s all about me” mindset.

We live in a society that has become increasingly self-absorbed, self-centered, selfish, and whiney when even the littlest of things don’t go our way. We live in a society that is easily offended and gets hurt feelings on the turn of a dime, that is quick to give up on things and people when the going gets a little rough, that is all too ready to walk away from anything that poses a threat to our comfort zone or might require a little extra work to sustain. (The irony is that this same society expects from us the things it is unwilling to be, do, or give.)

selflessness dementia alzheimer's diseaseBut, as caregivers, we have chosen to take the road far less traveled by. The one that says we’re in it for the long haul. The one that says our skins are thick enough that we learn not to take the effects that our loved ones with dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease exhibit personally. The one that says we love and we care to the end. The one that says we never walk away.

It’s not a road that many are willing or able to walk. But for those of us who have walked it and are walking it to the end, we find that the rewards and the lessons and the love we acquire as part of the journey are priceless. And our loved ones find in us relentless champions, unsung heroes, faithful friends, and beloved spouses, children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews who show them we love them by who we are and what we do.

So let’s never forget the promises we made, the pledges that we made, the trust, integrity, and honesty that we committed to be worthy of when we chose to care for our loved ones. Always remember that they are counting on us to honor those and if we fail them, then who will step in and fill the gap?

Medical Advocacy and Support and Dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease

Author’s note: I originally posted this in June 2013, but I will now be reposting this every month, because it is one of the most important ways in which we can help and support our loved ones with dementias, Alzheimer’s Disease, and other age-related illnesses (“Going Gentle Into That Good Night: A Practical and Informative Guide For Fulfilling the Circle of Life For Our Loved Ones with Dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease“) offers a more comprehensive list of the areas in which we can offer help and support to our loved ones).

*****

Today’s post will discuss our role as medical advocates and medical support for our loved ones suffering from dementias and Alzheimer’s disease. Here I will provide practical advice and suggestions, from my own experience, in managing the medical aspect as easy, as straightforward, and as  un-disruptive for our loved ones as possible.

The very first thing we need to do as caregivers is to make sure medical wishes and medical legal authority – medical power of attorney – are documented and authorized (primary care physicians can do this; I suggest getting them notarized as well). Hopefully, these have been discussed enough so that either our loved ones have already taken care of them or we know what they want and are able to execute them ourselves.

For anyone reading this who is not a caregiver or suffering from dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease, now is the time to think about these because time and chance happen to us all. For those of us who are caregivers, these are documents we need to locate and keep in one place.

A medical power of attorney document designates who will make decisions when the person drawing up the document is unable to.

Living willA living will essentially specifies whether a person wants everything done possible to keep them alive, no matter how long, how futile, and how expensive or whether only comfort care is given when it’s clear that the end of life is at hand.

DNR (Do Not Resuscitate)A DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) document states that the person does not want to be resuscitated if he or she stops breathing.

I suggest getting a briefcase or backpack to keep all the documents related to the medical care for our loved ones in. The briefcase or backpack should be accessible at all times, so it goes everywhere we and our loved ones go.

The medical power of attorney, living will, and DNR should be kept together in a folder in the briefcase or backpack. The other items in this backpack should include medical history documents and an up-to-date list of of medications (I’ve attached a sample Excel spreadsheet you can download and for this). Get an inexpensive wallet to put a photo id and Medicare Part A and Part B cards in and keep that in the briefcase or backpack as well. Always have something (electronic or pen and paper) to take notes with.

It is important to remember that we caretakers have a responsibility to advocate for our loved ones with dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease with all medical professionals (primary care physicians, psychiatrists, nurses, dentists, hospital staff, home health staff, and hospice staff). However, it is equally important to remember that, unless our loved ones are in the dying process and, therefore, unresponsive, that we need to include them in all conversations, explain to them what is being discussed and why, and make sure the medical personnel include them as well.

While our loved ones may not understand everything, we must not treat nor let anyone else treat them as if they are invisible. This is probably one of the greatest gifts of love and respect we can show them.

We have to usually initiate this by stopping the conversation the medical professional is having with us, turn to our loved ones and hold their hands, make eye contact, and explain. Eventually, the medical professional will make eye contact with both us and our loved ones.

The reality is that we don’t really know how much our loved ones comprehend or understand. It’s my personal belief that they understand more than the diseases allow them to respond to. I also know that touch and inclusion are two basic needs we all share as humans, so it’s essential that our loved ones never feel excluded or unloved.

Hospitalizations are hard on elderly people. I don’t know all the reasons why, so I wouldn’t begin to speculate (although I have some opinions about it) as to why. For our loved ones with dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease, hospitalizations are not just hard, but extremely traumatic because of unfamiliarity of everything: people, place, and routine. Going into a hospitalization, we as caregivers must be aware that it will be a setback for our loved ones when they come home.

hospitalizationBecause of the traumatic effect of hospitalizations on our loved ones, it is critical that we as caregivers stay with them as much as we’re able during the hospitalizations. We are, even if some of the time they don’t know who we are, familiar. And our presence can help neutralize some of the fear and anxiety that often occurs during hospitalizations. 

Always have a “hospital bag” with clothes, toiletries, and other things our loved ones need packed. That bag goes every time we take our loved ones to the ER or with us as we follow an EMS transport. (It is imperative to be sure to wash the clothes from the hospital stay immediately and separately from any other laundry when we get home.)

Spend the night for as long as our loved ones are hospitalized. I know, because I’ve spent way more nights than I could ever count with my mom – even before her dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease diagnoses because I didn’t want her to be all alone – in the hospital, that there’s iffy sleep, awful coffee, and not-so-great food. But our loved ones are worth it. 

But spending the night has an additional, and equally-important, benefit. Most doctors make rounds between 7 pm and 8 pm in the evening and between 6 am and 8 am in the morning, so by spending the night we’re always there when the doctors are there so we can be current on what’s going on with our loved ones. I’ve found that, in general, hospital nurses either don’t know much or are too busy to take the time to give you real updates, so the only in-depth information you’re going to get will be from the doctors.

The other benefit of staying with our loved ones is that we can make sure they get the quality care and attention they need. It’s been my experience that most hospitals simply to don’t have enough staff to provide much personalized care, so if there is no one there with the patient, the patient just has to wait until someone gets around to him or her. By us being there, we can ensure that our loved ones are clean, taken care of, and not uncomfortable in any way physically. That’s one of the best ways we can serve them.

As I mentioned, expect a setback after hospitalization. It can last anywhere from a few days to a couple of weeks. Recovery will eventually occur, but it’s important to know that it will never return to the pre-hospitalization state. That’s just the nature of these diseases.

It’s important to be patient, loving, kind, gentle, and tender no matter what. It’s my opinion that most of the behavior is a way of expressing fear, so it’s important that we allay those fears and help our loved ones feel safe again. It takes time and a lot of deep breaths sometimes, but this is another way we show them how much we love them.

John Hopkins Free Online Course for Dementia Care Begins 10-14-13

holding handsA quick reminder that this free, five-week online course on dementia care begins this week. Simply follow the link below to sign up:

https://www.coursera.org/course/dementiacare

For a downloadable copy of the syllabus, go to the Caregivers – Alzheimer’s Disease, Dementia, and Other Age-Related Illnesses group page on Facebook.

Medical Advocacy and Support and Dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease

Author’s note: I originally posted this in June 2013, but I will now be reposting this every month, because it is one of the most important ways in which we can help and support our loved ones with dementias, Alzheimer’s Disease, and other age-related illnesses (“Going Gentle Into That Good Night: A Practical and Informative Guide For Fulfilling the Circle of Life For Our Loved Ones with Dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease” offers a more comprehensive list of the areas in which we can offer help and support to our loved ones).

*****

Today’s post will discuss our role as medical advocates and medical support for our loved ones suffering from dementias and Alzheimer’s disease. Here I will provide practical advice and suggestions, from my own experience, in managing the medical aspect as easy, as straightforward, and as  un-disruptive for our loved ones as possible.

The very first thing we need to do as caregivers is to make sure medical wishes and medical legal authority – medical power of attorney – are documented and authorized (primary care physicians can do this; I suggest getting them notarized as well). Hopefully, these have been discussed enough so that either our loved ones have already taken care of them or we know what they want and are able to execute them ourselves.

For anyone reading this who is not a caregiver or suffering from dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease, now is the time to think about these because time and chance happen to us all. For those of us who are caregivers, these are documents we need to locate and keep in one place.

A medical power of attorney document designates who will make decisions when the person drawing up the document is unable to.

Living willA living will essentially specifies whether a person wants everything done possible to keep them alive, no matter how long, how futile, and how expensive or whether only comfort care is given when it’s clear that the end of life is at hand.

DNR (Do Not Resuscitate)A DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) document states that the person does not want to be resuscitated if he or she stops breathing.

I suggest getting a briefcase or backpack to keep all the documents related to the medical care for our loved ones in. The briefcase or backpack should be accessible at all times, so it goes everywhere we and our loved ones go.

The medical power of attorney, living will, and DNR should be kept together in a folder in the briefcase or backpack. The other items in this backpack should include medical history documents and an up-to-date list of of medications (I’ve attached a sample Excel spreadsheet you can download and for this). Get an inexpensive wallet to put a photo id and Medicare Part A and Part B cards in and keep that in the briefcase or backpack as well. Always have something (electronic or pen and paper) to take notes with.

It is important to remember that we caretakers have a responsibility to advocate for our loved ones with dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease with all medical professionals (primary care physicians, psychiatrists, nurses, dentists, hospital staff, home health staff, and hospice staff). However, it is equally important to remember that, unless our loved ones are in the dying process and, therefore, unresponsive, that we need to include them in all conversations, explain to them what is being discussed and why, and make sure the medical personnel include them as well.

While our loved ones may not understand everything, we must not treat nor let anyone else treat them as if they are invisible. This is probably one of the greatest gifts of love and respect we can show them.

We have to usually initiate this by stopping the conversation the medical professional is having with us, turn to our loved ones and hold their hands, make eye contact, and explain. Eventually, the medical professional will make eye contact with both us and our loved ones.

The reality is that we don’t really know how much our loved ones comprehend or understand. It’s my personal belief that they understand more than the diseases allow them to respond to. I also know that touch and inclusion are two basic needs we all share as humans, so it’s essential that our loved ones never feel excluded or unloved.

Hospitalizations are hard on elderly people. I don’t know all the reasons why, so I wouldn’t begin to speculate (although I have some opinions about it) as to why. For our loved ones with dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease, hospitalizations are not just hard, but extremely traumatic because of unfamiliarity of everything: people, place, and routine. Going into a hospitalization, we as caregivers must be aware that it will be a setback for our loved ones when they come home.

hospitalizationBecause of the traumatic effect of hospitalizations on our loved ones, it is critical that we as caregivers stay with them as much as we’re able during the hospitalizations. We are, even if some of the time they don’t know who we are, familiar. And our presence can help neutralize some of the fear and anxiety that often occurs during hospitalizations. 

Always have a “hospital bag” with clothes, toiletries, and other things our loved ones need packed. That bag goes every time we take our loved ones to the ER or with us as we follow an EMS transport. (It is imperative to be sure to wash the clothes from the hospital stay immediately and separately from any other laundry when we get home.)

Spend the night for as long as our loved ones are hospitalized. I know, because I’ve spent way more nights than I could ever count with my mom – even before her dementias and Alzheimer’s Disease diagnoses because I didn’t want her to be all alone – in the hospital, that there’s iffy sleep, awful coffee, and not-so-great food. But our loved ones are worth it. 

But spending the night has an additional, and equally-important, benefit. Most doctors make rounds between 7 pm and 8 pm in the evening and between 6 am and 8 am in the morning, so by spending the night we’re always there when the doctors are there so we can be current on what’s going on with our loved ones. I’ve found that, in general, hospital nurses either don’t know much or are too busy to take the time to give you real updates, so the only in-depth information you’re going to get will be from the doctors.

The other benefit of staying with our loved ones is that we can make sure they get the quality care and attention they need. It’s been my experience that most hospitals simply to don’t have enough staff to provide much personalized care, so if there is no one there with the patient, the patient just has to wait until someone gets around to him or her. By us being there, we can ensure that our loved ones are clean, taken care of, and not uncomfortable in any way physically. That’s one of the best ways we can serve them.

As I mentioned, expect a setback after hospitalization. It can last anywhere from a few days to a couple of weeks. Recovery will eventually occur, but it’s important to know that it will never return to the pre-hospitalization state. That’s just the nature of these diseases.

It’s important to be patient, loving, kind, gentle, and tender no matter what. It’s my opinion that most of the behavior is a way of expressing fear, so it’s important that we allay those fears and help our loved ones feel safe again. It takes time and a lot of deep breaths sometimes, but this is another way we show them how much we love them.

 

Dying Wishes – The Discussion Everyone Needs to Have with Their Loved Ones Long Before They Need to Be Honored

Ellen Goodman is one of my favorite essayists and authors. My first exposure to her writing was an essay entitled “The Company Man.” Even though I was just 16 years old when I read it in my AP English class, it had a profound impact on me. I still often think of it when the days and nights of life get long, hectic, and overwhelming and it helps me to step back and do, if nothing else, a little reset to get my priorities realigned.

Therefore, when I read her post on the living-or-dying decision-making (and second-guessing) she had to do for her mom when Alzheimer’s Disease had forced Ellen to be the decision-maker, I found it very interesting.

And familiar. Because even if you’ve had “the conversation” many, many times, I think second-guessing, especially toward the end of life when push comes to shove, is inevitable.

Mama and I had talked in-depth about her dying wishes for years and we had the documents and the paperwork done well in advance of her dementias, Alzheimer’s Disease, and congestive heart failure diagnoses.

Living will - dying wishesShe had a living will with no extraordinary measures, as I do. And she decided on a DNR after Daddy died without one and she saw first-hand the effects of futile life support that he had to go through in that last hour of his life because he didn’t have a DNR.

Even though Mama was a medical professional, as was Daddy, I believe the impact of seeing her soul mate and best friend go through being kept artificially alive even for that short period of time was profound and life-altering for her.

We talked about it a lot right after Daddy died, and I told her I had a DNR and had gotten itDNR (Do Not Resuscitate) in my early 20’s and I told her why I had (and still have) it. It made sense to her and we had her doctor draw it up and certify it.

As Mama’s heart health declined, we continued to have conversations about what she wanted and didn’t want as far as quality of life versus quantity of life.

We were so much alike in our very strong views that quality of life was what was important and not quantity (and this really is the core issue that must be addressed and resolved as part of the dying wishes conversation) that we never disagreed on care, treatment, and outcomes.

But it was because we had these heart-to-heart talks a lot in the last years of Mama’s life and we openly and frankly discussed death as the inevitable outcome and how Mama wanted that to be, as much as was within her control. 

When Mama told me she didn’t want to go to the hospital anymore for treatment for her congestive heart failure, I honored that wish, despite the frantic response about liability from the nurse on the phone when I called to have Mama’s doctor give us a prescription for the medicine (Lasix and potassium) and a schedule so that I could treat Mama for it at home.

The doctor ended up calling me himself and he got Mama in the next day to the office and gave me the prescriptions and schedule to do at home with a follow-up visit within the week with him. And we continued to do this at home until Mama’s death. That’s what she wanted and I was determined to make sure that her dying wishes were honored.

The issue came up again three months later when, on her birthday, Mama started throwing up in the afternoon and had chills and sweating. I wasn’t sure whether the symptoms were heart-related or not, so I took Mama to the ER. She had a gall bladder infection and after we were transferred to a bigger hospital early the next morning, a gastrointestinal surgeon came in and tried to talk us into putting Mama under general anesthesia to remove her gall bladder.

I refused that because I knew with Mama’s weakened heart, she wouldn’t survive it and told him we needed a Plan B. He reluctantly said they could put a drain in with local anesthesia to drain the infection out, but that reinfection was likely within a year. I realized even then that Mama’s health was such that it was unlikely that she would live long enough for a reinfection to occur, so after she and I discussed it, we agreed to the drain, which was successful in removing the infection.

It wasn’t until the very end of Mama’s life that I did any second-guessing. I knew logically and intellectually what she wanted and I was committed to honoring that. And I did.

But most of my second-guessing came in the form of wanting to be sure that I wasn’t overreacting as death approached and that once it was clear that Mama was in the dying process, I wanted to be sure she wasn’t suffering and I didn’t know how to gauge that (she wasn’t and I know that now, but it was paramount on my mind then).

The reality is that, with appropriate comfort care during the dying process, it’s harder to watch someone die than it is for them to actually die. Because we watch our loved ones die with all our senses intact, all our systemic functions intact, and all our alertness intact and it’s almost impossible to not project our intact selves into the process.

And that is why having the dying wishes conversation with our loved ones long before we have to honor it is so important. Most people seem to be very uncomfortable with this conversation – and the subsequent similar conversations that will and should follow it.

But let me ask you a question that shows why we need to get comfortable with it.

What if something with a life-ending outcome looming happened to you today and you’d never discussed and formalized your dying wishes with your loved ones and they were suddenly thrust into the position of having to decide whether to postpone the inevitable or let you go with no intervention in God’s timing?

Would you want your loved ones to be in that position? Would you want to be in that position? Think about it. And have the conversation. As soon as possible. 

Guide to In-Home Medical Care Options for Our Loved Ones Suffering from Alzheimer’s Disease and Dementias

This post discusses home health care, palliative care, and hospice care options. Included in the video below are descriptions of each of these options and recommendations and advice, from my personal experience as a loving caregiver for my mom, about each one.

To begin the video, simply click on the “Play” arrow and the video will play (there is no sound).

Please continue to give me feedback on topics you’d like to see discussed here. This is our blog and, while I’ve got content that I’ve prepared and am preparing, I would also like to address any topics, concerns, and questions you have about providing loving caregiving to our loved ones with Alzheimer’s Disease and dementias. 

Facebook Page for Going Gentle Into That Good Night and Caregiver’s Support Group

I wanted to post a reminder that I’ve created this blog to give more extensive details on practical and “in-the-moment” information that we caregivers can use to ensure the best and most loving care of our loved ones suffering with Alzheimer’s Disease and dementias.

I am working on several posts that you’ll be able to read shortly, but I would like to encourage and invite everyone to like the Going Gentle Into That Good Night Facebook page and join the Facebook Caregivers – Alzheimer’s Disease, Dementia, and Other Age-Related Illnesses group where I am continually posting links and short comments about research and relevant blog posts that we can all use as we go through the caregiving journey.

If you have not yet read my book, Going Gentle Into That Good Night, please be sure to get your copy. It is an overview – and the genesis of this blog – of my own caregiving journey with my mom and I offer lessons I learned in the form of resources and advice you won’t find anywhere else in the Alzheimer’s Disease and dementia literature.

And, as always, if you find any of the information that I provide here or on Facebook useful and helpful, and are so inclined, a small donation (click on Donate on the left side of your screen) would be greatly appreciated. This mission to write, share, and provide helpful information, advice, and encouragement is, it seems, my life’s work now. It is a labor of love because I know firsthand what each of you is going through, but I still have to pay the bills. 

Thank you in advance for reading, for sharing, and for allowing me to share my journey with you.