Hospitaller Order of St John of God conference proceedings: The Dependent Elderly-Partnership in Care: a conference focusing on the numerous care issues arising in the lives of elderly people who have a progressive organic disease 31st May 1995: Celebrating Five Centuries of Hospitaller Care 1495-1995

Hdl Handle:
http://hdl.handle.net/10147/239932
Title:
Hospitaller Order of St John of God conference proceedings: The Dependent Elderly-Partnership in Care: a conference focusing on the numerous care issues arising in the lives of elderly people who have a progressive organic disease 31st May 1995: Celebrating Five Centuries of Hospitaller Care 1495-1995
Authors:
Hospitaller Order of St John of God
Publisher:
Hospitaller Order of St John of God
Issue Date:
1995
URI:
http://hdl.handle.net/10147/239932
Item Type:
Conference Presentation; Report
Language:
en
Description:
How will you care for me when I am older if disease attacks my brain and damages my ability to remember, reason and understand? I wonder if the things that seem important to you will matter all that much to me. I don't think I shall be too concerned about how thick the carpet is and bow well the furnishings coordinate with it or about whether there is a phone available for me to use. Perhaps now is the time for me to tell you what I shall want from care. Communicate with me, please, although I may have great difficulty in understanding or using language. I shall still, I'm sure, know when you touch me gently on the arm or drag me roughly from my chair. Will your tone of voice assure me that I am worth caring for or will you leave me feeling that I am nothing but a nuisance? And bow will you stand beside me when I am dressing myself so very slowly- with words and gestures of encouragement or with bored resignation? Accept the fact that disease has robbed me of some of my abilities and don't expect me to do the things I no longer find possible or become impatient at my inability to learn. Accept that I enjoy some things and positively bate others and don't try to cajole me into activities I would never have chosen for myself Remember that I am still a person with my own particular physical and emotional needs. Reassure me whenever I appear to be feeling lost - tell me that you understand I am feeling frightened or confused or frustrated or depressed and tell me that I can trust you to take care of all things I now find so difficult to manage. Get to know my background, the things that interested me at the time of my life that is now clearest in my damaged mind. Remember that the 1990s and the 1980s may have been totally wiped from my memory; and perhaps also the 1970s and beyond. I am now living in what seems like a foreign place where so much has changed and where the people I once knew are so different that I no longer recognise them. Will you take the trouble to find out about the job I did, the place that I lived, the holidays I enjoyed, the people who surrounded me? How will you react if I want to see someone who is now dead? Please don't tell me the honest truth, though I wouldn't ask you to lie either. Instead, try talking about my relatives or friends and help me to find their photographs in my family album. It will probably be all I need. If you tell me that someone close to me is dead, I won't remember it in five minutes time, but I shall still be distressed two hours later, without knowing what I am grieving about. Maybe it would help if everyone who is caring for those who suffer from dementia learned a bit more about local, national and world history, so that when the cells that stored the most recent memories have shrivelled and died, old memories can be revived and relived and the individuality of the person, and that may be you or me, retained for much longer. In short, please try to enter into my world - because I shall no longer be able fully to enter yours.
Keywords:
OLDER PEOPLE; HEALTH CARE

Full metadata record

DC FieldValue Language
dc.contributor.authorHospitaller Order of St John of Goden_GB
dc.date.accessioned2012-08-24T14:42:29Z-
dc.date.available2012-08-24T14:42:29Z-
dc.date.issued1995-
dc.identifier.urihttp://hdl.handle.net/10147/239932-
dc.descriptionHow will you care for me when I am older if disease attacks my brain and damages my ability to remember, reason and understand? I wonder if the things that seem important to you will matter all that much to me. I don't think I shall be too concerned about how thick the carpet is and bow well the furnishings coordinate with it or about whether there is a phone available for me to use. Perhaps now is the time for me to tell you what I shall want from care. Communicate with me, please, although I may have great difficulty in understanding or using language. I shall still, I'm sure, know when you touch me gently on the arm or drag me roughly from my chair. Will your tone of voice assure me that I am worth caring for or will you leave me feeling that I am nothing but a nuisance? And bow will you stand beside me when I am dressing myself so very slowly- with words and gestures of encouragement or with bored resignation? Accept the fact that disease has robbed me of some of my abilities and don't expect me to do the things I no longer find possible or become impatient at my inability to learn. Accept that I enjoy some things and positively bate others and don't try to cajole me into activities I would never have chosen for myself Remember that I am still a person with my own particular physical and emotional needs. Reassure me whenever I appear to be feeling lost - tell me that you understand I am feeling frightened or confused or frustrated or depressed and tell me that I can trust you to take care of all things I now find so difficult to manage. Get to know my background, the things that interested me at the time of my life that is now clearest in my damaged mind. Remember that the 1990s and the 1980s may have been totally wiped from my memory; and perhaps also the 1970s and beyond. I am now living in what seems like a foreign place where so much has changed and where the people I once knew are so different that I no longer recognise them. Will you take the trouble to find out about the job I did, the place that I lived, the holidays I enjoyed, the people who surrounded me? How will you react if I want to see someone who is now dead? Please don't tell me the honest truth, though I wouldn't ask you to lie either. Instead, try talking about my relatives or friends and help me to find their photographs in my family album. It will probably be all I need. If you tell me that someone close to me is dead, I won't remember it in five minutes time, but I shall still be distressed two hours later, without knowing what I am grieving about. Maybe it would help if everyone who is caring for those who suffer from dementia learned a bit more about local, national and world history, so that when the cells that stored the most recent memories have shrivelled and died, old memories can be revived and relived and the individuality of the person, and that may be you or me, retained for much longer. In short, please try to enter into my world - because I shall no longer be able fully to enter yours.en_GB
dc.language.isoenen
dc.publisherHospitaller Order of St John of Goden_GB
dc.subjectOLDER PEOPLEen_GB
dc.subjectHEALTH CAREen_GB
dc.titleHospitaller Order of St John of God conference proceedings: The Dependent Elderly-Partnership in Care: a conference focusing on the numerous care issues arising in the lives of elderly people who have a progressive organic disease 31st May 1995: Celebrating Five Centuries of Hospitaller Care 1495-1995en_GB
dc.typeConference Presentationen
dc.typeReporten
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