Understanding dementia Trying to understand those who suffer from dementia’s reality is the first step in making a difference to those in care’s lives, says Hall & Prior’s Behaviour and Cognition Clinical Nurse, Katie Conciatore.
I
t was something of an accident the first time I truly connected with a resident with dementia.
nurse’s station and beyond her bruised purple and blue face was a pair or striking blue eyes staring at me.
I was a brand new graduate registered nurse who ended up working an unintentional double shift in my aged care facility. The facility had several sections so I had taken handover for the afternoon shift, sat at the main desk and was going through care plans when I first met her. She was a new admission and had come in from hospital following a fall. I hadn’t been present for her admission but had heard of her during the handover.
As a young registered nurse, my aim for my career was to eventually end up in paediatrics. I hadn’t exactly planned on coming into aged care and yet here I was, with a bruised 78-year old woman staring at me. She quickly whispered that we needed to get a move on, I looked down at my paperwork and in that second, curiosity got the better of me and it resulted in my making a decision that would change my career path.
As I sat at the desk that was higher than my head, for safety purposes, I became aware of a dragging noise, a plunk then scrape. By the time I looked up, there she was, she lifted her face above the high
The woman had dementia, she was a frail falls risk who needed assistance with personal care and could at times be “resistive”. She was the mother of four sons and by their account, she was not
someone you forced to “ask you twice” to do something. But on this night, the night of our initial encounter, she was hungry and wanted my assistance to steal some crumpets from the kitchen. I went along as she, very slowly, made her way down the hallway, pausing at every opening in the wall, even if it was just a sink, to check if our parents were there, ready to catch us. We finally made it to the kitchen area and she heckled me as I made us buttery toast and tea, apparently I smeared butter instead of spreading it.
Story continues overleaf.
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