Herb Fair

Today we visited the Herb Fair at Evening Shade Farms, Osceola, MO and had a grand time. There was a nice variety of vendors, including potters, a woodcarver, greenhouses, a blacksmith/artist who specializes in sculpture, a rug weaver, and jewelry. There was bluegrass music on the porch of the Soap House and a Jingle Dance demonstration by Chante Falcon, the princess of the upcoming PowWow in Columbia, MO. Everybody was friendly and there was something for the whole family. We came away with a book about organizing spaces, a little clam shell of beeswax moisturizer, and our brains and minds full of new information and ideas. I call that a successful day!

Romancing the nursing home

     Should people with Alzheimer's be holding hands and courting each other in the nursing home? When a spouse dies, we can more easily reconcile it for ourselves. But what if the spouse is alive and well while the other has dementia and is in a residential care facility? It isn't like they're being intentionally unfaithful. What, if anything, should the staff do about it? What can the staff do when the courting goes "too far," becoming socially "inappropriate," as it very well may. People with Alzheimer's and other dementias are often confused. It is no different when it comes to their romantic feelings. Can we lovingly distract them with something else as we would a young child?
     So far, in Inter-Active Music, it hasn't gone beyond hand-holding and looks of adoration. Thankfully, the music and activities keep the minds and the bodies busy. And often, the emotions seem busy too, as we sing and listen to songs from their past. Today, for instance, I learned all about one gentleman's time in California--surfing! With his mind on the waves, the beauty, and yes--even the taste of the sand--there was no time for this guy to romance the ladies around him today!

My Turning Point

            I used doctors and “western” medicine like some people use alcohol. It seemed like I was always running to the doctor. I had sore throats, earaches and stomach pains. If it wasn’t me, it was one of my kids. We religiously took whatever medicine was prescribed. Even though I was still being faithful to this regimen, however, I began to notice that sometimes the prescriptions caused more problems, particularly candida infections and then allergies and resistance to certain specific drugs.

            Then came the time I got poison ivy. I often get poison ivy, but this was THE time. My forearms quickly became scabbed and oozy from elbow to wrist. It started on a Friday when I helped clear brush from a vacant lot. By Monday it was evident that I was in trouble, so I did what I had always done—headed to the doctor to cut it off at the pass. I got a shot. By Wednesday, I was truly a mess. I had to wear long sleeves when I went out to keep it clean and to prevent it from oozing all over everything and everybody else. Then I was hot and sweaty which irritated my arms all the more. Back to the doctor. Another shot and a prescription I could fill if the shot didn’t get it this time.

            The second shot didn’t help, so I went to the pharmacy to fill the script for prednisone. In the back of my mind was a faint memory of the last time I’d taken this anti-inflammatory steroid. It was foggy, but I remembered that my (then) husband couldn’t stand being around me while I was on the stuff. But I itched, hurt and burned and was miserable so I started the packet. It’s one of those drugs you start on a certain dose and then you have to step down off of it. The whole packet took about a month, I believe. Again, I was in a fog. I didn’t feel like myself. It seemed very difficult to hang onto any thought long enough to finish it. Finally, it was over. I took the last pill. I didn’t itch that day, and only remnants remained of the scabs up and down my forearms.

            Then came my first day without the prednisone. I broke out all over again. Of course it was a weekend again and so I determined to set my jaw and make it through until I could go back to the doctor. But what was the use, I wondered. 

            Well, that weekend, one of my kids had something else going on with his skin. I got on the internet and started looking at pictures trying to figure out what was going on with him. I didn’t find whatever his issue was, but I did find pictures that looked exactly like my arms. The caption said, “Shingles.” Shingles?!?

            I ran downstairs and announced my findings to my husband (Jim Behl). “Let’s go get you some lysine,” he says. Lysine, by the way is sold over the counter in the supplement section. By the next day my symptoms were clearing, though the fog from the prednisone drifted over my head for months after I was off of it.

            This was a turning point for me when I realized that doctors don’t know everything and doing exactly what they say will not necessarily solve my problems. Sometimes it won’t even bring relief and sometimes it causes more problems. Since that day, I always look for natural alternatives first. We are saving a lot of money because those frequent doctor visits and prescriptions are in our past.

            Of course I have to say—Only a doctor can diagnose, cure and treat disease. This is not intended to replace the advice of a qualified physician.

            My new habit is to not request a diagnosis from anyone. But I frequently seek help from people with positive experiences in healthy diets, supplements, herbs, and essential oils.

Hand crusher absent

The physical strength of a person with Alzheimer's should never be underestimated. Last week after an hour long session of guitar and singing, a guy shook my hand to "thank" me for coming. That was on Wednesday. Sunday my hand was spasming, feeling like he was crushing it all over again. I have to say that though I missed his singing along this week, my hand was grateful for the respite in his absence.

Another gentleman gave a stirring speech about how he loved to hear the group sing and how he loves everybody in that group so much.

It is moving to see these people sit up in their chairs and their eyes sparkle and shine as they interact with each other, sing, exercise, and play musical games. Do I do this for me or for them?

Alzheimer's stinks, but we still have fun.

My Alzheimer's group has been singing Morning Has Broken with lyric sheets for the past several weeks. The song is "new" to the group, in that nobody remembered it when I first introduced it. After several weeks with it, they still think it is a pretty song, but nobody recognized it.

On the other hand, the group loves to play a ball game. Every week somebody else tells us what the rules are. Even when the person I call on to explain the rules has difficulty saying the rules, they almost always at least gesture how the game goes.

One gentleman said his upper teeth have been missing for several days now and his mouth is getting sore from trying to eat like that. I wonder why they don't adjust his diet until the teeth get fixed or replaced? They have been missing for over a week.

Huntley Brown has a fun jazz piano rendition of Old Time Religion that we use for "scarf exercise." The music itself suggests certain movements such as bouncing higher and lower and the best part is the end, with a chorus line sound to it. By the time it's all over, everybody is kicking their legs out besides bouncing the scarf. There are also lots of big smiles.

Musical reminiscing

Today during I-AM with a group of people with Alzheimer's Type Dementia, one gentleman reminisced about how his son had been in "everything" and had played the trumpet, guitar and banjo. Later he recalled how he too had played several instruments and helped his son learn. I already knew that he had been a square dancer, but over time, he is able to reveal more and more.