“Where did they go,” I hear coming
from the living room.
Stepping from the kitchen to confirm
whom My Love was talking about, I asked him, “Who? Where did who go?”
“They were just here. The two that
were over there,” he tells me, pointing toward our entry hall. “They just stood
and looked at me.”
I walk around the corner to peek
into the hallway. No one there.
“Can you tell me who they were? What
they looked like?”
I again tried to see if there was some recognition of anyone
he could tell me about.
“Not really,” he says. He looks sad
that he can’t remember. “I thought I had seen them before,” he says to be sure
I know he had seem someone.
“Well, it looks like they have gone
for now. Call me in next time you see them,” I say, hoping not to alarm him in
any way.
Hallucinations have been coming just
around dinner time, the same pattern, almost the same routine for a couple years.
I recall My Love’s first shadowy
sightings in the night. He woke me up to tell me someone was outside our
window. I tried to convince him it was the varied thickness of the gathered
drapes causing dark and light shades of gray, but he was sure that was not what
he saw. I used to get up to look and suggest whoever it was had gone by the
time I got there. It would not have meant a thing to remind him we live on the twelfth floor in our building!
At first, before I realized
hallucinations could be part of dementia, I was not sure what to think.
Luckily, among my lifelines, I have had a counselor whose wisdom has carried me
through many uncertainties. With her explanations and her guidance related to
my responses, I feel confident about my safety and My Love’s hallucinations.
If I can leave caregivers with only
one piece of absolute truth, it is find support and lifelines to accompany
you on your caregiving journey.
Over the months, various people have
visited My Love as ‘imagined’ figures. His brother has come most often. His
daughters were here one time. He recognized those family members. But the
other ‘guests’ who appear each night seem unknown to him by name. He has told
me he thinks he has seen them before, but he seldom can describe them, and a
name never comes.
Alzheimer’s Association (alz.org)
briefly explains hallucinations:
“When a person with Alzheimer's or
other dementia hallucinates, he or she may see, hear, smell, taste or feel
something that isn't there. ….caused by changes within the brain that result
from Alzheimer’s…. Some hallucinations may be frightening, while others may
involve ordinary visions of people, situations or objects from the past.”
My counselor is keen to tell me,
over and over, when something new happens, seek medical help. Let the
doctors assess the situation. Let them put the puzzle pieces together. I know
the drill now, but she still says it often. I know ‘see his doctor right away’
is among the most valuable advice she offers.
“I can’t tell you who it is, but I
know someone was there,” My Love wants me to know he really saw someone.
I affirm again, “I don’t see anyone,
but I understand you saw someone.”
Sometimes I walk over and take his
hand while this slight change in behaviour is going on. Other times
I notice the lights are dim in the room and casually turn more on, reducing
shadows. At times, I change the subject, or suggest he get out his paints or
draw. I walk over and put on some music. I distract him. And sometimes it
works.
Other times, I acknowledge “I know they’re gone,” while I stay calm and
vigilant until he brings himself ‘out of it.’
I never doubt him or that he saw
something. I know it is possible. That is all I need to
know. Hallucinations can relate to other diseases besides dementia
or Alzheimer’s, so it is important doctors know what is going on.
After the doctor, too, knows this is
happening, after he advises me, I feel comfortable with what to do.
I do not doubt My Love. I assure him
I did not see his guests from the kitchen. But just to confirm, I add, “it
looks like they have gone now,” hoping to alleviate any fears he might have. I
never know what triggers these visits. I have observed they are appearing regularly, right after his third anxiety attack of the day, timed right as dinner is being served. Response to medication? Perhaps, but I am convinced his brain is still
‘boss.’
Each night I check if there seems to
be fear in his voice. I evaluate if he senses danger or if I do. If there is no
type of threat present, I take his hand and sit with him. I know that when I
sense danger, to call for help.
These are among the times for which I was
totally unprepared. These are the times I am glad for the classes and
counselors at the Alzheimer Society. I know I am not a professional.
There is a COAST group (Crisis
Outreach and Support Team) in our area to call and get guidance – in real time.
Check what services are in your area to help caregivers with memory loss. Put
that phone number on speed dial.
Your police department also may be able
to guide you.
Once you speak to the receptionist
at COAST, and if they ascertain that more help is needed, they will call 911.
Be sure to cover this emergency
topic, role play even, with your counselor or support team. If you, as the
caregiver, feel in danger, leave the scene. Call 911 to get help. Do not put
yourself in danger.
The message...be prepared as much as
possible. Take classes. Find support.
And now I must stop because, in his
effort to help, My Love has just poured the dog's food into her bowl with water in it. Be inspired to love!
