This story has, understandably, caused quite a stir. An elderly man with dementia who has been singing publicly for many years is still able to sing his songs even though his dementia often means that he is lost for words when he tries to communicate:
http://www.itv.com/news/granada/update/2016-08-05/heartwarming-video-of-dad-and-son-singing-goes-viral/
Showing posts with label singing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label singing. Show all posts
Sunday, 14 August 2016
Sunday, 29 May 2016
The essence of the person
Some time ago now, a neighbour was asking after S and I tried to explain that, even though she can hardly speak or do much for herself she is still, demonstrably, S. The neighbour, who has had some experience of dementia said, 'The essence of S is still there!' This summed-up the situation so well that I was overcome with emotion and had to end the conversation.
I realise that we are very lucky in this respect. Some people with dementia turn into a completely different person who may be aggressive and spiteful where they were once friendly and caring, for example. Others may become such a shadow of their former selves that they are barely recognisable even to their loved ones. Some may reach a stage where they do not recognise their loved ones and may become suspicious and wonder why a stranger is in their house.
But S is still very clearly there. She still smiles a lot as she has always done (except for a brief period of about 3 or 4 months when she was tormented and paranoid). She still does her best to be helpful when she is being moved around from commode to bed to wheelchair or 'rolled' from one side to the other whilst being dressed. She still mouths the words to some of her favourites songs when we go to our weekly 'Singing for the Brain' and occasionally actually sings some words softly.
It wasn't so long ago that she clasped a carer's hand after something that had been done for her and said 'Thank you'.
She still understands a good deal of what is said to her, providing she is not too distracted by what is going on in her brain.
Most encouragingly, whenever we help her to stand and take a few paces (with a good deal of support) the determination she shows is unmistakeable.
She was always a quietly determined person - it's part of her essence.
I realise that we are very lucky in this respect. Some people with dementia turn into a completely different person who may be aggressive and spiteful where they were once friendly and caring, for example. Others may become such a shadow of their former selves that they are barely recognisable even to their loved ones. Some may reach a stage where they do not recognise their loved ones and may become suspicious and wonder why a stranger is in their house.
But S is still very clearly there. She still smiles a lot as she has always done (except for a brief period of about 3 or 4 months when she was tormented and paranoid). She still does her best to be helpful when she is being moved around from commode to bed to wheelchair or 'rolled' from one side to the other whilst being dressed. She still mouths the words to some of her favourites songs when we go to our weekly 'Singing for the Brain' and occasionally actually sings some words softly.
It wasn't so long ago that she clasped a carer's hand after something that had been done for her and said 'Thank you'.
She still understands a good deal of what is said to her, providing she is not too distracted by what is going on in her brain.
Most encouragingly, whenever we help her to stand and take a few paces (with a good deal of support) the determination she shows is unmistakeable.
She was always a quietly determined person - it's part of her essence.
Wednesday, 3 December 2014
Finding the positives, even in small things
I try to look for positives in our situation. I sometimes see them and then forget. So I'm trying to keep a bit of a record. I'm jotting them down in a notebook.
I'm not talking major events of course and some of them are only noteworthy because I used to take them for granted and they haven't happened for a while. But in the last week:
I've twice seen S mouthing the words to songs, one of which we were singing at one of our groups ('It's a long way to Tipperary') and one I had on in the the car and was singing along to myself ('Da Doo Ron Ron').
Twice she's picked up a piece of apple that I'd put in front of her and started to eat. For ages I've been handing her pieces of fruit on the assumption that that was the only way they would get to her mouth.
I was helping her up from the settee, holding her hand and saying 'Push up', when she said, as she did it, 'If I can...' (it was a bit of a joke - she knew she could). This after God knows how long when I think I've only heard yes or no.
It would be very easy to list the negatives of course. This is, for everyone, a disease that, over time, is only heading one way. But it's good to remember that these positive things still happen.
I'm not talking major events of course and some of them are only noteworthy because I used to take them for granted and they haven't happened for a while. But in the last week:
I've twice seen S mouthing the words to songs, one of which we were singing at one of our groups ('It's a long way to Tipperary') and one I had on in the the car and was singing along to myself ('Da Doo Ron Ron').
Twice she's picked up a piece of apple that I'd put in front of her and started to eat. For ages I've been handing her pieces of fruit on the assumption that that was the only way they would get to her mouth.
I was helping her up from the settee, holding her hand and saying 'Push up', when she said, as she did it, 'If I can...' (it was a bit of a joke - she knew she could). This after God knows how long when I think I've only heard yes or no.
It would be very easy to list the negatives of course. This is, for everyone, a disease that, over time, is only heading one way. But it's good to remember that these positive things still happen.
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