Home care for late stage dementia, Part 5: Eating/ swallowing problems

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Persons in late-stage dementia are almost totally dependent, confined to a wheel chair or a bed, and have serious memory problems and physical complications. In India, care for persons in this stage is usually done by family caregivers, and can be very challenging.

Dr. Soumya Hegde is a Bangalore-based Consultant Geriatric Psychiatrist. She has extensive experience in supporting people with dementia and their families through all stages — for persons living in full-time facilities as well as for persons being cared for at home by their families. Dr. Hegde completed her training in Geriatric Psychiatry in the UK. Her work experience includes seven years as Associate Director of the highly reputed full-time facility, Nightingales Centre for Ageing and Alzheimer’s (Bangalore). In this series of posts, Dr. Hegde discusses various aspects of home care for advanced dementia, and provides useful information and several practical suggestions.[note]

In this part we start looking at a very common area of concern: when someone with dementia starts having eating/ swallowing problems.

Questions/ Comments by Dementia Care Notes: One very common and extremely worrying situation in late-stage dementia is when the person reduces or stops eating and drinking. Can you share why eating problems happen?

Dr. Soumya Hegde (Consultant Geriatric Psychiatrist): There are many reasons why eating problems happen. The first thing to do in such cases is to distinguish between whether she doesn’t want to eat or whether she can’t eat/ swallow. These are very different.

If the person doesn’t want to eat, we need to understand why. The eating will improve once we resolve that problem. But if the person can’t swallow because the dementia has deteriorated, we have to do different things.

DCN: Why would someone not want to eat?

Dr. Hegde: Illness and pain is one set of possible reasons. The person may have viral fever or some physical discomfort and so they don’t feel like eating. The person may have pain — ear pain, tooth pain, stomach pain. Or a sore throat which makes eating hurtful.

The problem could also gastritis caused by some medication, a side-effect sometimes seen with some common medicines. A person with a bloated stomach doesn’t want to eat, but may not tell you what the problem is. The medicines may need to be changed or discontinued.

Or the person may have gone into a behaviour pattern that she can’t break out of. Or she may be so confused or lethargic because of dehydration that she refuses to eat. The reason could even be as simple as the food not being tasty.

DCN: That’s a lot of possible reasons. But first, how can we know if a person doesn’t want to eat or if she can’t eat?

Dr. Hegde: Look for facial expressions of pain or discomfort, or whether it seems a stubborn refusal.

A throat infection may also prevent someone from swallowing. You may not be able to examine for throat inflammation, and the person’s voice may not be sore, but they find it easier in these case to sip fluids. If accompanied by a cold the person may have a runny nose If you find the problem, you can try to solve it.

See how suddenly the problem happened. If it happens suddenly it is very unlikely that the dementia has deteriorated to that point. It can’t be that yesterday he ate rice and sambhar, chewing and swallowing properly, and today the dementia is so bad that he doesn’t eat.

One situation where the eating problem can happen in a relatively short term is in case of a vascular event.

DCN: By vascular event you mean something that interrupted the blood flow in the brain and caused damage, right? How can we know if a relatively sudden eating problem is due to a vascular event?

Dr. Hegde: A vascular event affects blood flow to the brain — a stroke, a mini-stroke. The damage due to it could affect any part of the body. Maybe in this person’s case it affects swallowing.

If the person eats some food and not others, it cannot be due to a vascular event.

Look for whether the refusal behaviour is present in other activities also, like refusing a bath, refusing to walk, refusing to talk—that could mean it is psychological. Offer different food choices. A lot of people who suddenly stop eating may still eat their favourite food, like say a peda. If the person eats some food and not others, it cannot be due to a vascular event.

Check if some other cognitive decline happened around the same time as the eating problem—like a deterioration in comprehension or communication. That could indicate that the eating problem is because of a vascular event, and not a refusal to cooperate. Be especially alert about vascular events if the person has related risk factors like hypertension or diabetes.

DCN: So, families can look at all these aspects, gather data, and tell the doctor what they have observed.

Dr. Hegde: Correct. The doctor will try to understand if the eating problem is because of brain changes (organic causes) or if there is a behavioural component (which means it is psychological) or something else.

…when you notice a swallowing problem, then whilst you are trying to figure out where the problem is, consider switching to mashed food consistency.

One thing is that when you notice a swallowing problem, then whilst you are trying to figure out where the problem is, consider switching to mashed food consistency. This is because liquids are dangerous to give case of genuine swallowing difficulties. So, play safe till you understand the situation better.

DCN: Regarding food taste: we often suggest that caregivers taste the food they give the person to make sure it is tasty, especially because foods taste different when liquidized. Also, don’t tastes change with age? Like they prefer more sweet things when older?

Dr. Hegde: Some foods are not palatable when mashed. You can’t mash an aloo parantha. But you could mash a rasgulla. If you are giving mashed consistency, select foods that taste good after mashing. And yes, the taste for sweet things is the last to go. Use it to your advantage. Add a little bit of sugar to food.

I remember one case of a diabetic resident who didn’t want to eat and so she was given a bit of ice-cream at the tip of the spoon, so that her first taste was sweet. She would open her mouth for it. She didn’t really appreciate the taste of the rest of the food, but she would continue eating.

When the person has eating problems, you won’t be able to give large portions of food. Try to increase the caloric value of your portions.

When the person has eating problems, you won’t be able to give large portions of food. Try to increase the caloric value of your portions. Like making dishes using condensed milk. Or roast and powder dry fruits (almonds, cashews, etc.) and sprinkle a bit of that powder on the food.

DCN: You mentioned dehydration as one of the reasons for refusing to eat. How can we notice and correct dehydration?

Dr. Hegde: Slowly growing dehydration is often missed. Families may think the person is having a litre of water but it may be much less. Correct that problem and things improve. IV fluids may be needed if the dehydration is severe. I have seen persons perk up after they are given enough fluid, and they start swallowing again on their own.

Slowly growing dehydration is often missed.

A dehydrated person looks dull. She wants to lie in bed most of the time, her skin looks very dull, eyes are sunken inside, the mouth is dry. Open the mouth to check the moistness in the tongue and in the oral cavity—dehydrated persons don’t have enough saliva. Or maybe you will see dry marks around the lips. The urine may start smelling. It may be strong and darker. There may be less urine. If the person is on diapers, the diaper may not get as wet, or you may need fewer diapers.

Making the person take enough water may be difficult. Some persons refuse plain water. Try mixing squash, or give nimbu pani (with salt and sugar) or thin buttermilk, whatever appeals to them.

Some persons keep refusing liquids of any sort. It is a big struggle to make them take even 100ml, and getting them to half a litre or more a day is almost unmanageable.

Your doctor may want the person tested for sodium levels to suggest what you can give as fluid. But often, mild problems may not show up in test results, though the person looks dull.

DCN: So, if the person looks dull, we shouldn’t assume it is because of decline in dementia.

Dr. Hegde: Yes, look for various possible causes for any decline. Dehydration is one, but there can be many others. Don’t assume any decline you see is caused by dementia. One more thing, continuing with issues around dehydration–maybe the person will complain of pain while passing urine. The doctor may advise testing for urinary tract infection, and also do other tests.

…look for various possible causes for any decline. Dehydration is one, but there can be many others. Don’t assume any decline you see is caused by dementia.

DCN: Some worried families get desperate when a person doesn’t eat. They try to force down the food.

Dr. Hegde: Yes, it is very worrying when you see the person hardly eating and you might be tempted to force them. But each time you try and force a person with dementia to do something it actually makes the resistance worse and make the task more difficult to complete.

Don’t panic if a few meals are missed. Look for reasons, try to solve them, observe things, and talk to the doctor to see how to proceed.

DCN: You said that “won’t eat” can also happen because of some psychological problem, some behaviour pattern. What is done in such cases?

Dr. Hegde: Usually, in behaviour problem situations, resisting food is not the only behaviour change. They may not cooperate in other ways too, and show behaviors like resistance to diaper change, resistance to get up, and other such things.

Once we establish the cause of these behaviours we can start to solve the problem. If they refuse to eat, and you’ve given the IV fluids (in cases of dehydration), made sure there are no aches and pains, ruled out everything, and it’s more than four or five days, then the doctor will probably consider medication.

A Ryles tube (nasal feeding tube) may be needed for some days to ensure nutrition as medication will take some time to take effect. We feed through the tube as well as directly (normal eating with the mouth). Once the problem is resolved and the person is eating enough through the mouth, we remove the Ryles tube. The medication may take a few days to start working and one will have to be patient.

Note that tube feeding may also be needed to give the person enough nutrition if the person is very ill physically, say, the person has pneumonia.

DCN: Can you give some more examples of what may work for a “won’t eat” case?

Dr. Hegde: Sometimes you have to try things.

In one interesting case, we had an extremely thin lady who hadn’t eaten properly for two years from before she came to live at the residential facility I was working in. We made her sit with others when they were eating. She watched them. And we just left her. And she began eating. At home she had been fed in a separate place by the paid caregiver. Here, once she got company, she started eating again.

DCN: That’s quite a few things we can try for the “won’t eat” situations.

Now about the “can’t eat” situation, where there is a genuine swallowing problem due to the growing dementia. You said it will happen slowly.

Dr. Hegde: Yes, chewing starts taking longer. It takes much longer for the person to eat the same amount of food. She doesn’t seem to understand what to do with the food in the mouth. Some just grit their teeth and don’t open their mouth. They’ve forgotten what to do. You put the food before them, you try to coax them. Or take the hand if they can’t use a spoon. They might cough while swallowing liquids. Mashed, semi-solid food will have to be started.

And then you reach a stage where the person is on mashed food and now cannot swallow even that. You may need to think about feeding tubes.

DCN: What can we try if someone seems to have forgotten how to use a spoon or how to open the mouth and eat?

Dr. Hegde: One thing to try is hand-feeding. It’s not easy because the person may bite your hand. So maybe avoid hand-feeding rice and give a rolled up chapaati so that you have some space between your hand and the person’s teeth. I’ve seen cases where a rolled chapaati was placed in the person’s hand and her hand was moved up, and she just took over and fed herself.

Try smaller meals. Meals that take too long exhaust you and also exhaust the person.

Try smaller meals. Meals that take too long exhaust you and also exhaust the person. Give, say, one katori (small bowl) at a time, around four or five spoons. It may take fifteen to twenty minutes. Then after one or two hours give another small meal.

To help them remember to swallow, lift the chin, put the spoon of mashed food in, and then tip the head down to let them swallow. It’s an instinct. Stroking the throat can also help. Both these methods work well. Or try swallowing prominently in front of them and they may mimic you.

See what works for you. Some people touch the spoon to the lower lip and tap lightly to make the person open the mouth. Or they say “aa…” and the person mimics and opens the mouth. Or they lightly massage the joint between the upper end of the jaw and the ear, the temporomandibular joint (TMJ).

These techniques work best when the person is starting to go into swallowing difficulties, and is pocketing the food and doesn’t know what to do with the food afterwards.

DCN: Can we check to know if the person really has swallowing problems?

Dr. Hegde: Usually a swallowing problem due to dementia deterioration starts with difficulty in swallowing liquids. They cough if given water, but may not cough when given food. That is when we switch to mashed or semi-solid food.

Usually a swallowing problem due to dementia deterioration starts with difficulty in swallowing liquids.

If possible, get a “swallowing assessment” done by an ENT or a speech pathologist who specializes in swallowing difficulties. The specialist will do tests and examinations and confirm whether there is an actual swallowing problem. They will recommend a suitable food consistency.

DCN: Tell us more about liquids and food consistency, and pocketing.

Dr. Hegde: When swallowing problems start, avoid giving liquids.

One concern at this point is how to ensure of enough fluid intake. You can give liquids between semi-solids, like one teaspoon of liquid after every two spoons of semi-solid food. A suitable consistency can be created using thickeners (these are not available easily in India). Or use some other way to get the desired food consistency.

Do not give more food if the person still has food in the mouth. If the mouth is full, and the person is not gulping down the food, put in a very small amount of water, very carefully. Sometimes that helps them swallow.

Pocketing is when someone keeps food in the mouth and forgets to gulp it down, so it stays there, in the mouth. If food is gooey, it’s less likely to be pocketed. Like a thick curd consistency—you just can’t pocket something like thick curd.

When a person has swallowing problems or pocketing problems, switch out of solid foods. Use consistencies that are difficult to pocket and easier to swallow.

DCN: Once you’ve done all this, and the person is still not swallowing, the person is no longer getting enough food. That is when tube feeding may be considered, correct?

Dr. Hegde: Yes. But as I said before, tube feeding may be required even in other cases, like when the person hasn’t been getting enough nutrition because of illness, or temporarily when medication has been initiated.

Tube feeding for the “can’t eat” is a decision that needs careful consideration and an understanding of the pros and cons.

DCN: Thank you, Dr. Soumya Hegde, for this discussion on understanding and handling situations where the person can’t or won’t eat food.

We will continue on a related aspect: tube-feeding in the next part, the concluding part of this interview series.

Dr. Soumya Hegde practices in Bangalore as a Consultant Geriatric Psychiatrist. She practices at her clinic: Memory Matters, 6, Wind Tunnel Rd, Kaveri Nagar, Murgesh Pallya, Bengaluru, Karnataka 560017, and can be contacted at 89044 18172 or emailed at memorymattersindia@gmail.com.

This interview is part 5 of our 6-part interview series on late stage care. Other interviews in this are: Part 1: Prepare for home care, Part 2: Getting medical advice and preparing for decline, Part 3: Bruising, skin care, exercise, massage, bedsores, Part 4: Constipation, Catheter use, Dental Care, Improving the Quality of Life, and Part 6: Tube feeding and related decisions. We also have a detailed discussion on late stage care at: Late-stage dementia care.

Note: In this interview series, Dr. Hegde shares information and her suggestions on several topics of late-stage dementia care, for the general convenience of family caregivers. Each family’s care situation is different, and readers will need to see what is helpful for them, and also look at information from other sources. For medical advice for your situation, consult your doctor.

[This is part of the expert interviews on this site. View the list of all interviews of health care professionals and volunteers.]
Note. This is an interview of an expert/ volunteer. The views expressed and the suggestions given are those of the interviewed person, and not a recommendation being made by Dementia Care Notes. Suitability and applicability of the suggestions remain the responsibility of the reader. For professional advice suitable for your situation, please consult an appropriate professional.

Early warnings, diagnosis, medication, side-effects, an elderly father as caregiver: a daughter talks of her mother’s dementia

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Mala (name changed) has a mother suffering from Alzheimer’s Disease, something the family found out only after years of watching her slowly-increasing forgetfulness. Care is being given by Mala’s father, who refuses help. In this interview, Mala goes down memory lane to describe the early symptoms, the diagnosis and treatment, the family’s coordination for the care, and Mala’s own hope and guilt.[note]

Dementia Care Notes: Please share something about your family.

Mala: We are three siblings; I have two elder brothers and I am the youngest. Our family is an upper middle class family, and we are all educated and pursuing good careers. Daddy retired over a decade ago, and Mummy was a home maker. All of us currently live in the same city; my eldest brother and his family lives at some distance, my other brother and his family live next door to my parents, and I live with my in-laws just a few minutes of walking distance.

Daddy (now almost 80 years old) is my mother’s caregiver, and while we all try to support him in various ways, he insists he does not need more help right now, and will ask for help if he needs it.

Dementia Care Notes: Tell us about your mother before the symptoms started.

Mala: Mummy was what we would probably call an ideal homemaker. Though a graduate who had worked for some years, she was happy to leave her job and switch to full-time home making. My father, a quiet man, worked at his job, earning money. Mummy was the one who was always there for us, her children, when we were younger. She loved to cook for us. She was very social, and was prominent within our community for her participation in various group activities. She loved oil painting, and also helped with managing the society club administration, and was always volunteering to help in this thing or that.

Dementia Care Notes: Please describe when and how she started changing.

Mala: I think the changes happened very slowly, or maybe we just didn’t pay enough importance to them. After Daddy retired, Mummy was still a very socially active person, meeting relatives, attending functions, arranging neighborhood bhajans, and so on. My brothers had moved out for their studies and jobs.

I think I first noticed Mummy’s forgetfulness around the time my marriage was fixed. We had recently moved to an apartment my parents had just bought, and Mummy would often keep things at strange places and the kitchen arrangement was all mixed up, not the way an enthusiastic cook would handle it. I told myself it was just because it was a new apartment, but it still felt a bit odd.

In the six months between my engagement and marriage, I saw Mummy behave in many strange ways. She seemed very disinterested in all the hustle and bustle of purchases for the wedding. She would tag along for the shopping as if not really interested, and even when we traveled to our home town to place the order for the jewelry, she did not seem excited at this holiday and meeting our relatives in our home town. She had been so social earlier that this detachment felt odd. My Mausi also commented on this indifference, but we all felt that Mummy may be feeling sad because the only child left at home (my brothers had already moved out) would also be leaving home soon. I thought it was some sort of “empty nest” syndrome. I had to keep coaxing Mummy to buy a new saree for herself so that she looked pretty during the wedding festivities.

During the ceremony, she walked off in a disoriented way when the kanyadaan was taking place, which felt very strange. It was like she was just doing things in a disoriented way, not happy about it.

During the ceremony, she walked off in a disoriented way when the kanyadaan was taking place, which felt very strange. It was like she was just doing things in a disoriented way, not happy about it.

I was especially surprised because Mummy had been so happy and active for my brother’s marriage, and even for a cousin’s marriage a few years ago, but I assumed that she was just very sad and would get over it, and besides, I was excited at entering a new phase of my own new life.

After my marriage, when I would visit my parents, I saw that Mummy had lost all interest in cooking. She had stopped cooking special dishes. Relatives told me she was quiet and inattentive. I would visit as often as I could, but I was also busy with my new life and my in-laws and career and all that. I didn’t think anything was seriously wrong with her, just that she was taking a long time adjusting to the home being empty.

I began registering that something was wrong around the time I went to my parents’ home for the delivery of my first child. It became obvious then that Mummy had really changed. For one, she seemed very scared of holding the child, and would just not pick him up. She only helped me by continuing to do the cooking, but she kept making mistakes even in that. Rice would not be soaked long enough and be served undercooked; daal would be put on the table without the seasoning. If Daddy pointed out a mistake, she would calmly say she forgot and correct the problem, but she always looked preoccupied and distant. Daddy would sometimes get irritated, thinking she was being careless or doing things wrong on purpose.

I had no idea of what was happening. I had never lived with any grandparents, and did not know whether this was the normal way that people aged..

I had no idea of what was happening. I had never lived with any grandparents, and did not know whether this was the normal way that people aged, but I thought it might be. As I was trying to handle my child, I would expect Mummy to help, for example, to set out the bath water and oil and soap. I would be surprised and irritated when she could not follow even simple instructions. Looking back, I can see that what I considered simple instructions were not actually all that simple. I would sometimes snap at her, but she would not get upset even if I scolded her.

Sometimes, as I found the child-rearing tiring, I would wonder how Mummy had managed bringing up three children, and would be awed at what mothers do for their children, and also feel very abashed about not having valued her when I was younger.

The way I saw it was, she was getting older, and ageing seemed to create more problems than what I had expected.

The next few years were very busy for me. I don’t remember too much of how she changed over those years. I would visit, of course, but I was engrossed with my family, and Mummy seemed silent. All Daddy ever said was that she was getting more and more forgetful, but otherwise things were okay.

Dementia Care Notes: How did you realize that your mother had a problem that needed investigation?

Mala: It was actually by chance. I happened to attend a workshop on dementia as part of some work, and as the doctor conducting the workshop kept explaining each of the warning signs, I felt my heart sink as I found myself thinking: Mummy has that symptom. Sitting there, finding that Mummy was showing so many of the symptoms being described, I started suspecting that Mummy could be a dementia patient.

My emotional reaction was one of guilt for not having realized this earlier. Then, as the doctors explained about “reversible” dementia, I felt hope. Maybe Mummy’s problems were a reversible form, and could be solved.

The challenge was how to convince Daddy and my brothers about the need for consulting doctors. You see, none of us had seen her problems as a “mental problem”, just as growing forgetfulness.

The challenge was how to convince Daddy and my brothers about the need for consulting doctors. You see, none of us had seen her problems as a “mental problem”, just as growing forgetfulness. Her behavior did not have that agitation or rage that we associate with “mental problems.” And the idea of consulting a psychiatrist was very alien to us all. Words like “psychological problems”, “counseling”, “mental issues”, were all frightening.

I sat down with Daddy and my brothers to discuss more on what Mummy’s symptoms were. As we talked, I heard of more incidents that convinced me that Mummy may be having dementia, though I continued to hope that it would be the reversible type.

For example, Daddy told me how Mummy, on some days, said she had no children, and on some days, claimed she had only one child, while sometimes she would correctly state that she had three children. And my sister-in-law described numerous occasions when Mummy had seemed very disoriented, wandering about the two apartments (my parents’ apartment and my brother’s apartment), not at all sure what she was doing or where she was.

We all finally decided to consult a doctor.

Dementia Care Notes: Please describe how you got a diagnosis and started treatment.

Mala: Even after we decided to consult a doctor, we had no idea where we should go. We finally opted for a well-known nursing home in our locality, visiting as normal out-patients, and were directed to a junior doctor. We had no idea what to expect.

Mummy was quite bewildered about why we were visiting a doctor. I remember her asking me, “Why have you brought me here?” and when I said it was because there may be some medicine for her forgetfulness, she smiled and said there was nothing wrong with her. All through the visit, as the doctor talked to her, she was over-cheerful.

He (the doctor) gave us no explanation, and spent no time explaining the side-effects or anything else about the medication.

The doctor did not order any blood tests or scan, and directly put her on some medications that I now recognize as medications used in Alzheimer’s Disease. He gave us no explanation, and spent no time explaining the side-effects or anything else about the medication.

I feel very let down when I think of how the doctor dealt with us. He behaved as if we were the sort of people who will not be satisfied unless given a medicine, and as if we could not understand anything. He did not even try to explain or investigate more.

Dementia Care Notes: How did your mother respond to the medicines?

Mala: Mummy’s state deteriorated after the medicines were started.

Earlier, Mummy was forgetful and disoriented and uninterested. But after starting the medicines, She became even more forgetful. Her ability to recognize people went down, too, and she started calling my father “old man” and refused to share her bedroom with him.

The worst part was that her nature changed. She became irritable and agitated. Though not outright violent, she was clearly feeling very different. She often behaved like a college girl, and would be very distressed when she saw her gray hair, which she thought was really premature graying.

When we reported the problem to the doctor, he reduced the dose. After a while, on our insistence, he agreed to do more investigation. That was when they did various tests, including an MRI which, they claimed, confirmed the diagnosis of Alzheimer’s. I had been hoping even at that point that Mummy’s condition would be a reversible one.

The investigation done at this time included a neuro-assessment, and I was present for it.

When the doctor asked Mummy if she knew who I was, she said, “Of course. She is my sister.” I was shaken up. Mummy knew my name; I had no suspicion that she thought I was her sister and not daughter. I had not thought of testing her and asking her who she thought I was. Later, my brother told me that Mummy often did not know who was who, and called most people by the name of my sister-in-law.

Dementia Care Notes: How did your mother’s condition change with the treatment? How was care given?

Mala: The doctors told us that medication helps and should not be discontinued, though they adjusted the dose. Mummy’s hallucinations continued. She would seem to see things that weren’t there. Her behavior was increasingly strange. She would talk to herself in the mirror, and also try to walk out of the apartment, insisting she wanted to return to her father’s place. All this was even more problematic to deal with, especially because Daddy was having health problems of his own by now, and he was less mobile.

Daddy became upset and irritated more often then. As he had problems walking, he would ask Mummy to fetch a plate and she would fetch something totally different, and he would think she was troubling him deliberately. Though I had talked extensively about dementia to him, he was unable to accept that her strange behavior was because of that.

We tried to get a full-time maid for Mummy, but Daddy refused. He did not want someone hanging around the apartment all day. He did agree to employ someone for the cooking, and so the maid who was employed for cleaning the vessels was upgraded to “cook” status, and he trained her to his satisfaction. Food at home was, by now, very simple fare.

Mummy’s altered personality was very stressful for Daddy. I remember he got agitated a few times and said that we should stop the medication, or place her in an old age home and that he could not handle her any more.

It was a difficult time for all of us. My eldest brother, who lived at some distance, was supporting my parents financially. My second brother, my parents’ next door neighbor, was always available for emergencies. I was unable to help, as I had also got my own duties to my in-laws and a young child, but I tried to be there emotionally for “quality input”. My father, although tired and frustrated, still refused to take help. There were many episodes that were very challenging and worrying for us all.

Dementia Care Notes: Please give some examples of problems you faced.

Mala: Once, Mummy wandered off in the morning. We just could not find her. We alerted the police and then started looking. We were very tense, but we tried to think clearly. Mummy was fond of visiting the temple, and too scared to cross the main road. We therefore started searching in the various small side-roads. After several hours, we finally found her sitting in a park, watching children play.

When Mummy saw me, she smiled. “Oh, you have come, let us go home,” she said, as if this was all very normal.

After that day, Daddy was very careful to keep the apartment locked from inside so that she did not wander.

There were lots of small problems, mainly things we did not realize were happening.

For example, my mother used to tie her hair in a bun. To all appearances, she looked neat. It was only by chance that I realized one day that she no longer combed her hair, and it was all very horribly tangled. I took her to a beauty parlor to get her hair cut short, as I knew this problem would continue. Mummy was very upset about that. By chance, a close relative was visiting those days, and Mummy assumed that this person had come home just to cut her hair, and ranted at that person for a long time, accusing her of chopping off the hair.

Dementia Care Notes: You had mentioned that your father was not well.

Mala: Yes, Daddy was having severe health problems that affected his mobility. He had been refusing surgical intervention for years, but he finally realized that he could not look after Mummy if he was unwell himself. He then agreed to the surgery.

Once Daddy’s problems were solved, he became mobile and also less irritable, and was determined to manage Mummy’s care himself. He still does most of the work for her, and refuses to either employ a full-time help or let us (his children) help.

Dementia Care Notes: Does your mother continue to get very agitated? What is her current state?

At Daddy’s insistence, we stopped Mummy’s medication. The difference was visible in just a few days. Mummy’s hallucinations stopped.

Mala: At Daddy’s insistence, we stopped Mummy’s medication. The difference was visible in just a few days. Mummy’s hallucinations stopped. When on medication, she used to have a hawk-eyed look most of the time; that changed. She was no longer disturbed. She was still very forgetful, but the agitation type of behavior stopped.

I feel very bad that she suffered so much (and so did Daddy) because the medications did not suit her.

Sometimes I want to kick myself for not finding out more about the side effects of medication, and sometimes I feel upset that the doctors did not warn us about them. Even when we told them of the hallucinations, they did not suggest we try stopping the medications.

I know that some patients benefit from medications; I have heard from friends whose parents seemed much better with medication. But if there are some patients who suffer side-effects, shouldn’t the doctors tell us about that? I had assumed that Mummy’s deterioration was because of her Alzheimer’s, and it was only Daddy’s repeated insistence that we try stopping the medication that made us agree to experiment.

Daddy is taking care of Mummy more cheerfully now. He cajoles her, he jokes with her. He has adjusted to her dementia and accepts that deterioration will happen.

Mummy continues to be very forgetful. Her other problems are also increasing, for example, she is sometimes incontinent (especially in the morning), and sometimes she forgets where the bathroom her, but she no longer gets agitated. She does not even try to walk out of the apartment any more, just paces in the apartment, though Daddy keeps the apartment door locked, just in case. Mummy is usually silent, though she sometimes talks to her pillow or mirror.

Some months ago, Mummy fell off a chair once and injured her arm that needed some stitches and also suffered from some hairline fractures. She kept trying to pluck off the bandage, and we had to be very alert for some days. My brother took leave to support Daddy for the operation and the subsequent care.

She also has some sleeplessness, and is responding well to a mild medication for that.

Dementia Care Notes: How does your father handle his own needs and life along with all the care he needs to give for your mother?

Mala: Daddy was never a very social person and is used to a sedentary life. He uses a dementia day care for some fixed days a week, and on these days, as Mummy is at the day care, he gets some hours of respite and also fits in any socializing or bank work or other work he wants to do. He is not willing to put Mummy in day care for all days, because he says he gets bored alone.

Daddy seems to have found his rhythm in looking after Mummy, who is more peaceful now. He says he will handle Mummy’s care as long as he can, and will ask us for help when he needs. He tells us he is confident we will help him, but he does not want this to affect our lives too much before need be. He keeps pointing out that we have our own families and careers and other responsibilities, too.

Dementia Care Notes: What about your relatives? Have they accepted your mother’s dementia?

When close relatives visit, Mummy is very happy. She answers all questions by talking constantly and incoherently, and seems to enjoy herself.

Mala: Yes. We explained it to them, and they have accepted. I know of cases where families face problems because relatives do not believe the patient has dementia, and in that respect we have been very lucky. When close relatives visit, Mummy is very happy. She answers all questions by talking constantly and incoherently, and seems to enjoy herself. Her answers may make no sense, but no one comments on that. They keep a friendly eye on her, and are affectionate.

The funny part is, when we explain her dementia to relatives, they often start telling us old incidents, some almost ten years old, where Mummy behaved in strange ways, like repeatedly getting lost inside their house when visiting. These relatives had also noticed her extreme forgetfulness, but had assumed it was absentmindedness, even though the incidents seemed rather odd. It is only now, when we all sit together and compare notes and get the whole picture that we realize for how long Mummy has been facing problems.

Dementia Care Notes: Your mother was very fond of socializing. Is that possible now, or has it stopped completely?

Mala: Close relatives do visit, and Mummy enjoys their visits. Neighbors do not visit, as they know she is suffering from some problem, and do not want to disturb.

Sometimes, we manage to take Mummy out for functions. We are hesitant because she is mildly incontinent and refuses to wear diapers, but short trips are still possible.

Actually, even now, a casual visitor cannot always know that she has dementia.

Actually, even now, a casual visitor cannot always know that she has dementia. When people are around her, she sits up straight, looks very dignified and gentle, and nods and smiles as if she is understanding everything, and in a short visit, her problem is not obvious to people who do not know her.

Dementia Care Notes: How well does she connect with her grandchildren? Are they able to accept her dementia and connect with her?

Mala: Mummy was very fond of her grandchildren. When they were young, say, less than six years old, they, too were very fond of her. Then they started sensing something was wrong with her, and would sometimes get irritated with her because of her forgetfulness. We explained dementia to them, and they became more patient. However, the bonding is not so good now, and Mummy does not seem interested in them. They do not interact much now.

Dementia Care Notes: As a family, how are you planning to cope with her further deterioration?

Mala: So far, we have been managing to share the work and everything is going on smoothly. All of us are concerned and participate in different ways. My eldest brother provides the financial support; my middle brother is always available for emergencies, and sometimes has to take so much leave I think it must be impacting his professional growth and career prospects. I try to stay emotionally connected and also keep reading up on dementia and making suggestions and so on. My father, of course, bears the brunt of it.

We give suggestions to Daddy, like once I tried to fix an ayah for taking care of Mummy and after great reluctance Daddy agreed. But unfortunately the ayah did not turn up the next day and daddy got a chance to say “I told you so!!” He then said that we have given it a try and now I would like to have things the way I want it. Beyond a point he is right and we have to respect his wishes.

Another thing: Daddy is very independent in his ways. He has not taken any of us in confidence about how he has arranged his finances.

When it became clear that Mummy can no longer sign, I suggested that he relooks at his investments so that her inability to sign does not become a problem, and I know that after that he changed some of his investments to manage them more easily, but he did not tell any of us the details. I do not want to be misunderstood, and am very indirect in the way I bring up sensitive topics like finances.

Another example is, Daddy does not believe in making a will. I tried to bring the topic up in a roundabout way, quoting some newspaper articles on problems elders face, but that is all I could do. I do not want any confusion after his death, but in our family, such topics are just not talked about.

I am very careful in what I say and how I say it, because in our family, we have never spoken of unpleasant things like death, wills etc., about what may go wrong in the future. T

I am very careful in what I say and how I say it, because in our family, we have never spoken of unpleasant things like death, wills etc., about what may go wrong in the future. There is an assumption that we will all manage to do what is needed, but also that negative topics should not be brought up.

One thing I felt strongly about was donating Mummy’s brain upon her death for furthering research on Alzheimer’s. What gave me the confidence to convince my father and brothers was the fact that Mummy has often spoken about eye donation and had explicitly wished that after her death if any of the body parts are useful to anyone, it should be donated. This wish I hope to fulfill when the time comes by donating her eyes for giving sight to a blind person and by donating her brain to a brain bank for the cause of finding a cure for Alzheimer’s. Who knows, someday this may help researchers to find a cure for Alzheimer’s and I may be one of the recipients!!

We do not talk about how we will handle the next stage of Mummy’s dementia. Sometimes I wonder, if something happens to Daddy, all this will collapse. There is nothing in writing, no will, no other instructions. I guess we will manage, though; we have done okay so far. The motto of my brother, for example, is “if I have to do it, I will do it.” We do not get emotional about these things.

Dementia Care Notes: Do you have any overall comments?

Mala: I feel very confused and guilty at times.

On one hand, when I put together all those early warning signs that were there, I feel we should have known about Mummy’s dementia much earlier, and got it investigated.

I have heard some specialists say that medicines should be the last resort for geriatrics, and that also makes me wonder, because other specialists are quick to prescribe medicines.

On the other hand, given the way she reacted to the medication, I am very doubtful about the advantage of early interventions that people keep talking about. In our case, medicines did not help at all; they made things worse, and we did not get proper advice from doctors. I have heard some specialists say that medicines should be the last resort for geriatrics, and that also makes me wonder, because other specialists are quick to prescribe medicines.

I feel angry at times that we did not receive good guidance from the doctors whom we first approached and sometimes I redirect the anger at myself for not doing enough of reading up when so much of information is available on the Internet. If an educated person like me didn’t do the right thing at the right time, how helpless will be those who are uneducated, completely ignorant of all aspects of the disease! How many elders may be getting accused for “deliberately trying to act difficult” when actually they may be in the initial stages of dementia!

I know that each dementia patient is different, but how is one to know what is best for our patient, our family?

Whatever you do, you are groping in the dark. You cannot know while acting if you are right, which step may help, and which may not. This makes me feel very uncertain about things, but I also feel guilty at times for having missed out what seems obvious in hindsight.

I think I spent a lot of time truly accepting Mummy’s dementia. There used to be ups and downs, good days and bad. On the days she was better, I would be convinced that her problem was minor, was reversible. There was hope, or maybe that was inability to accept. Is hope wrong? Did it delay our doing what was needed? Or accepting? For Daddy, his inability to accept continued even longer, and he was not able to connect her strange behavior to her medical problem and would get irritated or dejected. He was bearing the brunt of her behavior, anyway.

Daddy’s ability to accept her condition and to change his way of caring improved a lot after his health problem was solved.

One more observation is that Daddy’s ability to accept her condition and to change his way of caring improved a lot after his health problem was solved. Maybe if he had not been suffering himself, he would have reconciled to her problem and coped with it without suffering as much as he did.

Right now, though I am trying my best to support my parents, I am not able to do much for them. Daddy, who is close to 80 years old, does all the work and refuses to take help. I feel guilty and helpless and frustrated. But I cannot intrude; one has to accept the boundaries he has set. He keeps saying, “She is my wife, and I am the one who will look after her as long as I can,-if I was in her place she may have done much more for me” -and we have no choice but to respect his choice and decision and support from the sidelines as best as we can.

Thank you, Mala!

[This is part of the caregiver interviews on this site. View the list of all caregiver interviews].

Note: This is a personal interview. The situation and experiences described are specific to the interviewee, and the interview is not intended to be seen as a general representation of dementia patients, the families, the care environment, or professionals. Every patient, every family is different and so is their experience. Some names and details have been changed to protect the identity of the interviewee.

His condition affected every sphere of my life: a son talks of his father’s Alzheimer’s

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Varun (name changed) is a writer whose father has dementia (Alzheimer’s). For a few years, Varun helped his mother care for his father, but later, his mother decided to move with the father to their hometown because she felt he would be more comfortable there, and care would be simpler with relatives and friends around them. Below,  Varun shares his experiences and thoughts about caregiving. [note]

“Varun”, who gave this interview anonymously in November 2010, continued to ponder and process his caregiver experiences and, increasingly began sharing them with friends and caregivers. He is now open about this aspect of his life, and wishes to give his real name: “Varun” is “Eshwar Sundaresan.” We have retained the interview below as originally published, and have also added, at the bottom of this interview, the link to a blog post he made in September 2013, where he shares his personal growth derived from his experiences with his father’s dementia.

Dementia Care Notes: For the period your father was living with you, how did his condition affect your work, leisure, and social life? What sort of adjustments did you need to make to balance your other roles/ aspirations with this responsibility?

Varun: His condition affected every sphere of my life.

I don many roles in my professional life – writer, journalist, consultant, and others– and I began staying at home more than usual so that I could handle any emergency that presented itself. I inevitably lost some revenue, but I felt that my mother needed my presence in those first three years. On two occasions, I went overseas on important assignments and I was forever anxious about the home front. My mother handled him extremely well in my absence. During these overseas stints, I also had the guilty realisation that I was enjoying my father’s absence. By not seeing him and my mother suffer on a daily basis, I felt… liberated. I admonished myself for being a bad son, but I couldn’t ignore this overwhelming sense of relief flooding through me.

My leisure time and social life dipped to zero.

My leisure time and social life dipped to zero. If I felt like having a drink – and I did feel like that often – I drank at home, after everybody had gone to sleep. Interactions with friends happened through my laptop. Happiness moved online. I decided not to have any romantic relationships in my life for many reasons. One, I wasn’t in the frame of mind to actually contemplate romance. Two, I didn’t want to complicate my life further. Three, I knew that a special new person would draw me away from my immediate responsibilities.

The only positive development, if I could call it that, was that my father’s condition inspired me to write a short story which won an award.

Dementia Care Notes: Can you share a few challenging situations you faced while caring for your father? Can you tell us how you handled them?

Varun: Almost all the day-to-day problems we face with my father revolve around smoking. Around two years ago, I and my mother decided to curb his habit and we’re still facing the consequences of that decision.

Ever since we rationed his cigarettes – to around 5 a day – he began stealing from home to fund his habit. No matter how well we hid our wallets and purses, he dug them out. We soon realised that in this one aspect – his desire to smoke – his resourcefulness exceeded that of a “normal” person. On those days when he didn’t find any money, he began buying packets from the local shopkeeper on loan. Of course, once the nicotine entered his bloodstream, he had no recollection whatsoever of having asked for the loan. On one occasion, he willingly accompanied me to the shop and blasted the shopkeeper for lying through his teeth. ‘Everybody’s a crook,’ he thundered. Of course, the next evening, he was back at the shop, begging for cigarettes.

Once the loan-route was sealed off, he began scanning the roads for cigarette butts. If he found a butt that could offer a single drag, he’d pick it up – no matter how filthy it was – and smoke it. This new development worried us no end. We could somehow endure the social stigma of such behavior, but what if he were to catch an infection from a cigarette butt?

We temporarily reverted to his earlier quota of cigarettes, but he did not give up the practice of picking up butts from the road. This has now become an enduring ritual and we have no idea how to deal with it.

Now, he’s acutely aware of when he will be given a cigarette – like, after the morning coffee, after lunch, after the evening tea and then after dinner. So meals and beverages have become harbingers of nicotine for him. He wants to rush through them so that he can get his cigarette. Even the slightest delay in placing a cigarette in his hands provokes extreme anger. At all other times, he’s meek as a kitten.

Our only hope is that memory – which has been reduced to less than a dozen sketchy details in his mind – one day refuses to remind him that he’s a smoker.

From the above account, you may have also realised that he has become schizophrenic. One moment, his mind is plotting its way to a cigarette and the very next, he believes himself to be innocent as a lamb. At such times, he accuses us of being callous. ‘Nobody understands me,’ he cries.

He’s almost always anxious and, as is common, he keeps repeating his questions ad nauseum. When he’s visiting his sister, he assumes her to be his daughter (my sister) and keeps fretting that his grandchildren have not returned home. All we can do is calmly tell him that his grandchildren are safe and happy in another city and he has no reason to worry.

Dementia Care Notes: Often, spouses find it difficult to move from a partner role to a carer role. Can you share how your mother handled this transition? How do you think a child can support a parent who is caregiving the other parent? Any advice, looking back?

Varun: My mother is like the Rock of Gibraltar. She’s a natural caregiver. Having spent her youth in a joint family that expected her to be the dutiful daughter-in-law, she’s used to taking care of the smallest needs of a large group of people. So she barely flinched during the transition from the role of a partner to that of a caregiver.

She was, of course, shaken by the first diagnosis of dementia. During that time, and later during particularly stressful times, I just offered her a shoulder to cry on. She didn’t expect much more than that. Other than that, I interfaced with doctors and informed her of time-tested techniques from the medical world. Whenever she resisted the proper caregiving technique – because it went against her instincts – I persisted with my talks till she accepted the technique. For instance, she became quite defensive of my father when someone wasn’t empathetic enough to his condition. Alternatively, she’d try to reason with my father to behave more rationally. In such times, I had to ask her to let him be. People suffering from dementia do not understand logic. But they do understand a hug, a squeeze of the hand, a caress. My father’s especially fond of hugs. He doesn’t care who gives it or why it is being given. He responds very positively to that form of affection. So we try and give that to him. As much as possible.

I think that in today’s day and age, the child can help the parent the most by:

  • Being there, as much as possible.
  • Reassuring her that society’s perceptions does not matter two hoots. My generation finds it easier to accept this premise and I can, therefore, sell the idea to my mother.
  • Exploit the power of the internet to keep her informed.
  • Remind her that she has the resilience required to undertake this super challenge.

If I were offered the twisted choice – as to which of my parents should be affected by this condition – I’d choose my father. Because women have an infinitely larger capacity to handle pain than men. So my mother can, all said and done, take much better care of my father than vice-versa.

Dementia Care Notes: Were there things you considered or did to improve your father’s quality of life? Did it seem possible? Any tips?

Varun: My father was an ‘extra-strong’ personality in his prime. And his assertive attitude survived the advent of the disease. I realised very soon that there was no way he was going to turn obedient. We had to accept his wishes, whether we liked it or not. All we could do was to make sure that he wouldn’t harm himself (he isn’t the kind of person who’d harm others).

So these were the decisions I took:

  1. He insisted on going to the temple every morning, unsupervised. We knew it was to scout for cigarette butts on the road. And to dip into the priest’s plate for a coin or two. But if he was denied this outing, he became furious. So I decided that he would visit the temple, come what may. My mother, when she visited the temple, dropped enough coins on the plate to compensate for the priest”s and the Lord’s loss. Once he returned from the temple, he was calm. The rest of the morning and afternoon passed like a hazy summery dream.
  2. In the evening, he’d again want to go to the park for a brisk walk – and I mean brisk. Even today, he sets a Gandhian pace for the rest of us. We were reassured by the fact that the park was quite close to home. And the locality we lived in had become familiar with him and his ways. Like the kind shopkeeper, who never took offence to his outbursts, the people in the neighbourhood would, we felt, return him safe to our home in case he got lost. But he never did. In fact, he self-regulated his walks. During the first year, he would walk into distant neighbourhoods, sometimes through thick traffic. But as soon as he realised that he was losing his bearings, he restricted his walks to shorter distances. Soon, his walks began and ended in the local park. This self-regulation, I think, was put in place by his fear of getting lost. I, for one, did not want him to vegetate at home and lose his physical health – which, touchwood, is still rosy, thanks to his penchant for walking. So I decided that there would be no restrictions on his walking and I think it’s one of the best decisions we’ve taken.
  3. Upon a doctor’s advice, I prepared a photo album for him, tagging each photo with detailed annotations and dates. We kept this album within his reach. He’d open it every day and pore through it, as if he were seeing it for the first time.
  4. I took him and my mother for a workshop held by my city’s ARDSI chapter, a magnificent organization that helps families like mine. At that workshop, my mother listened to experts and other caregivers. Knowing that we’re not alone in this situation helped her a lot. She also got plenty of practical tips on how to handle aggression, repetitive questions etc.
  5. My suggestion is to map behavioral patterns with the times when a particular medication was initiated. You might make a discovery.

    We consulted various doctors regarding his medication. I had a feeling that Donep (and other brand names of the same compound) was not really helping him. If anything, it was making him more aggressive. Some doctors insisted that better results would be achieved over time. But even after years, the medicine achieved nothing productive. I consulted another doctor and with her blessings, stopped Donep on a temporary basis. We found that his mood actually improved. He was a little more lucid and a little less worked up. I suppose these drugs do have different effects on different people. Some other victim’s reaction to the withdrawal of Donep might be entirely different. My suggestion is to map behavioral patterns with the times when a particular medication was initiated. You might make a discovery.

Dementia Care Notes: Your mother finally moved along with your father to their village. What sort of pros and cons were considered while making  this move?

Varun: Well, my mother did not allow me to consider pros and cons. She was quite convinced about the move. I wasn’t. So I requested the professionals from my city’s ARDSI chapter to pay a home visit and talk to her. They did and realised that she had made up her mind. So they advised her on caregiving and also to report any discrepancy in my father’s behavior at the earliest.

There are many reasons behind my mother’s relocation. I can speculate on and/or verify a few of them:

  1. She wants to be closer to the temples she loves to visit.
  2. She wants me to rethink my own life and, perhaps, find myself a life partner. She’s come to believe that this cannot happen with them over here.
  3. She thinks that my aunt – who lives a stone’s throw away from her new residence – will offer enough emotional and physical support in case of an emergency.
  4. She feels that this is her cross to bear. And hers alone.

I have never been convinced about this move. A room in my home remains empty, awaiting their return. For the time being, I had to restrict myself to a few basic parameters:

  • Their new residence is a condo which has excellent security arrangements.
  • Around 70% of the residents of the condo are retired folks who offer great company to my mother.
  • The locality is small and cosy. Everybody knows everybody. Even auto rickshaw drivers will take you home without asking for the address. It’s that easy to get that familiar with the others. It’s the kind of place that will accept my father’s idiosyncrasies and even celebrate them!

For now, that place is their world. And I’ve made my peace with it.

Dementia Care Notes: Are there any problems being faced because your parents are now in a village? How are these being handled?

Varun: As of now, there are no logistical and day-to-day problems. The locality has accepted my parents and there’s home delivery for everything.

But my parents are currently travelling in Gujarat where my father has, on one occasion, displayed mild violence because he was denied a cigarette on time. This has made me anxious for my mother. I wonder whether she should be allowed to stay all alone with my father. What if he becomes more aggressive? So my plan is to reassess their situation once they return to our hometown and, maybe, veto my mother’s decision to stay on their own.

I fear that, at the moment, my mother’s desires are in opposition with my father’s. My mother wants and deserves a break every now and then. From time immemorial, her idea of a break has been to travel to a close relative’s home. She wants to continue this practice. But, of course, every new place adds a dimension of disorientation to my father’s mind. My mother is still young and she certainly must lead as full a life as possible. Knowing this, I’d like to explore day care or fulltime care options for my father. But my mother is quite averse to this suggestion because she feels that my father will collapse in her absence. She has circumstantial evidence to back this claim. If he doesn’t have her in his sight for more than a few minutes, he panics. So my mother is even more sceptical about allowing others to take care of my father.

A qualified doctor friend recently told me that in these cases, the caregiver becomes as dependent on the victim as vice-versa. The caregiver begins to define her own life on the victim’s condition. Without the victim’s dependence, she herself is lost. So I must watch out for this co-dependence angle.

…my mother’s state of mind must remain the most important consideration in whatever decision I take.

Having said that, I know that my mother’s state of mind must remain the most important consideration in whatever decision I take. I cannot unilaterally take a decision based on rational thought. I must make sure that she’s onboard with the decision, whatever that is.

In all these situations, I become painfully aware that I’m, after all, a secondary or tertiary caregiver. The brunt of the ailment is borne and best understood by the primary caregiver alone. I cannot be the referee in this tug-of-war against Alzheimer’s.

Dementia Care Notes: Have you and your family considered how you will handle care when your father deteriorates? Can you share some criteria/ decisions on this?

Varun: I’m quite clear that, when my father is physically incapacitated, we must have a fulltime nurse to assist my mother. Perhaps the nurse will be required before that stage. I’m mentally preparing myself for adult diapers, bedpans, a special bed, bedsores, the smell of disinfectant in the air and the constant anxiety all these things introduce to a household.

All I can do is prepare financially for this era. I’m utilising my father’s absence to undertake lucrative assignments that will fund these times.

It’s amazing how Alzheimer’s teaches one to walk the invisible line between emotions and pragmatism.

Ideally, I’d like my mother to rediscover the joy of life at her age. Maybe explore hitherto-unexplored opportunities. She doesn’t have to be chained to his bed till he passes on. I fear that, when my father does pass on, she’d be left rudderless. So shouldn’t she find parallel meanings in life right now?

…but the final decision on my father’s caregiving model will be my mother’s alone. I’ll give myself no option but to support her.

But, as I said before, I cannot make these decisions on her behalf. I’ll continue to talk to her about these things, but the final decision on my father’s caregiving model will be my mother’s alone. I’ll give myself no option but to support her.

Dementia Care Notes: Overall, based on what you have seen so far, is there something you would like to share with caregivers who are just starting their caregiving journey?

Varun: To the primary caregivers, I’d say: don’t judge your loved one who’s suffering untold inner turmoil. Let him or her be. You’ll rue the fact that he is a shell of the splendid human being he once was. All the good traits will vaporise and all the vices will amplify. Don’t remember this shell. Remember the past. Remember that he was a great husband/father (or mother/wife).

To the children of the primary caregivers, I’d say: put aside your otherwise perfect life when you address this condition. If your spouse is not empathetic about your suffering parents, then find a way to balance the present and the past. Give your parents a life they deserve while not compromising the future of your marriage or your kids. The modern spouse cannot tolerate loss of control over the TV remote. So please don’t get worked up over his or her inability to tolerate the loss of peace. We live in a transitioning society. It’s up to us find the middle path. Our children may or may not turn up at our funerals. But we must delay the funerals of our parents. More than that, we must make their last mile as happy and memorable as we can.

Thank you, Varun.

Eshwar Sundaresan, writer, talks openly about his father’s dementia and about caregiving, and wishes to acknowledge his identity as “Varun” above. In September 2013, Eshwar wrote a detailed blog entry sharing more related experiences and thoughts (click here: They understand only love Opens in new window); this blog entry helps us appreciate how he has integrated and grown because of his father’s dementia and the related caregiving environment in the three years since the above interview.

Thank you, Eshwar!

[This is part of the caregiver interviews on this site. View the list of all caregiver interviews].

Note. This is a personal interview. The situation and experiences described are specific to the interviewee, and the interview is not intended to be seen as a general representation of persons with dementia, their families, the care environment, or professionals. Every patient, every family is different and so is their experience.

Dementia Care Notes