There Ought To Be a Holiday

I may have mentioned that I'm teaching a social work class on aging at UTA again this semester, and I've been thinking about tonight's lecture all week. The topic is caregiving. I don't know that I have much new to say about caregivers:

It's a hard job. You have to take care of yourself. If you get sick, you're no good to the care receiver. Take time for yourself.

As professionals, we all know what to say, and most caregivers have heard it over and over and over.

But here's a new message, something we don't talk about as much: If you know a caregiver, be intentional and do something FOR them.

Sometimes what that caregiver needs is a phone call, so they know someone is thinking about them. Sometimes that caregiver needs someone to come clean the house, without having to ask for it. Sometimes the caregiver needs someone to come take care of the care receiver for 2 hours so they can go shop without worrying. And what I know about so many caregivers is that they have a very difficult time asking for help. They feel like they are failing if they admit that they can't do it all.

So I challenge everyone who knows a caregiver to declare Caregiver's Day. It doesn't have to be to today, but it could be once a week or once a month. Do something for that caregiver to let them know they are not forgotten and they are not alone.

New Guidelines for Alzheimer's

It was reported yesterday that there are new guidelines for Alzheimer's disease. The first article I read was in the New York Times, and I wrote about the guidelines on Katten & Benson's blog.


The most important part of the story, however, is lost in a short paragraph in the middle of the story. It was reported that Congress has introduced a bill that will create specific cost codes for Alzheimer's disease for Medicare. These codes would allow doctors to be paid for having discussions with family members and caregivers. This is significant, because as the article states, "keeping family members well-informed can result in better planning and care."


It is amazing to me that it has taken this long for this to be recognized. In the social work class I teach, we talked last week about setting goals. Professionals are really good at setting goals--our goals. We often forget that we need to be setting goals that are consistent with what our client/patient wants. This becomes difficult with that person with dementia, especially when they want to stay at home alone, when clearly that is no longer an option. I told my students that when working with dementia clients, the "client" at some point changes from the person with dementia, to the family/caregiver. At that point, we must then revise the goals. We still must address the person with dementia's goals, but the family/caregiver's goals often become primary.


I think allowing doctors to have these discussions with the family are a step in the right direction.

It Comes in Threes

They say death comes in threes, and it certainly has yesterday and today.

Last night I learned that a client I have worked with for about 2-1/2 years died. This is definitely the worst part of my job--I get close to clients and their families, and then I lose them. Whenever I saw this client, he always, always asked me where I was traveling to next. We would spend a good part of any visit talking about where we had traveled, and now I won't have that to share with him. But I do have those happy memories, and that is what I cherish most about my job.

Today I learned that another older adult, someone in the community I have known for many years, died yesterday, too. I wasn't all that close to her, but she is someone I learned a lot from about aging and working with older adults. As her health failed, I saw her less frequently in a professional capacity, but more often as helper. I even recently helped her visit assisted living communities, and talked with her about her possible choices. Those of us who have worked in the aging community in Tarrant County have lost a friend and mentor.

The third death I learned about was through a facebook post from my brother, about a high school classmate. This person was a year behind me in school, but we were fairly well acquainted, although we had not seen each other since school. It's just always upsetting to learn about a contemporary's death--it reminds us of our mortality.

I hope that is it for awhile, but I guess there are at least a couple of funerals in my immediate future.

When Mom or Dad Doesn't Know You Anymore

One of the hardest things about dementia is when Mom or Dad doesn't know you anymore. It doesn't matter that you've read The 36-Hour Day, or go to the local Alzheimer's symposium every year; it's just hard.

My Dad didn't have Alzheimer's, but at the end of his life, in the advanced stages of pancreatic cancer, he did not recognize me the last time I saw him alive. There is just no way to prepare for the first time that happens.

I just found a brand-new blog, My Father Doesn't Know Me Anymore, that addresses the many complex feelings that come with caring for a loved one with dementia. Finding the blog was accidental--I was looking at Katten & Benson's website statistics on Wordpress, and saw that we had been linked to on this blog. I followed the link out of curiosity, not sure what I'd find.

It turns out that the author is a client's daughter. I have worked with her and her father for about three years. As Lucy says in the blog, we have been through some ups and downs, but what relationship, even a professional one, doesn't have ups and downs? Lucy says some nice things about me and Steve Katten, the attorney I work for, but what I appreciate most about Lucy's blog is her honesty. She tells you what it is like to be a caregiver--the good, the bad, the ugly and the beautiful.

Lucy and her sister are some of the fiercest advocates for a parent I have ever met, and they are truly inspiring. I plan to read Lucy's blog on a regular basis, and I hope you do, too.

The Future of Medicaid

I have been getting calls and emails from clients recently worried about Medicaid, and whether they need to start making other plans for their loved ones currently in nursing homes. I am at a loss about what to tell them.

On the one hand, it's hard for me to believe that the Legislature would actually make these cuts, and yet yesterday the Texas House of Representatives passed a draconian budget, including significant cuts to education and Medicaid. Texas nursing homes already lose about $12 per day for each Medicaid resident; cutting Medicaid payments would only increase that loss, and put many nursing homes out of business.

I am afraid there will be some serious cuts, and I fear that some nursing homes will close. I wonder how many legislators have family members on Medicaid in nursing homes. My guess is not too many. It's too easy to sit in a nice office in Austin and make life and death decisions, and make no mistake, people will die if these cuts go through.

I know we have to make some tough choices, and I know we have to live within our means, but I truly think many of the proposed budget cuts are just cutting off our noses to spite our faces. More people will go to the hospital, more people will be depressed, nursing home employees will lose their jobs, family members will lose their jobs. Where is the savings in that?

I'll appreciate any ideas you might have; better yet, send them to your legislator.