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Excerpt from: A Funny Thing Happened on My Way to the Dementia Ward -- Memoir of a Male CNA:  There are some people who are so deeply affected by Alzheimer's disease, you start to believe they can no longer be reached. A lesson learned: 'Each December our unit put on a Christmas party for residents and their families. Despite all of the work it's an event the staff enjoys. The facility supplies musical entertainment, snacks, drinks, and special desserts. The CNAs put extra effort into making sure each resident looks their best. The women have their hair done and the men wear dress shirts and ties. While the rest of the staff wears reindeer or elf hats, I suffer a slow, hot death underneath a Santa Claus suit, fake beard and winter boots. When she can, Maggie stops by to help out. And that makes the day special for me. We dance, make our way from one table to the next, making sure we visit with everyone. Seeing these people smiling, laughing, having a good time, brings so much satisfaction you want to squeeze out every last drop.The party was nearly over and people began to leave as I made my way around the crowd for the second or third time. I noticed Francis sitting alone, his family had apparently left. Francis was a husband, father, veteran, pilot and tree farmer. Now he's an Alzheimer's victim, unable to walk, talk, or express himself in any way. Other than sitting near a group where something is going on, he takes part in no activities. While I wouldn't describe his face as expressionless, it was always difficult to decipher what he thought or felt. There were times when he seemed to be smiling, but it wasn't something I welcomed, the expression could appear somehow sinister. I'd been jumping and jingling, doing my best Saint Nick impressions, when I knelt down and patted him on the knee. "Merry Christmas, Francis. I hope you and your family had a good time." His body had not yet forgotten how to cry. With that awkward smile across his lips, tears trickling down his cheeks, Francis took hold of my wrist, raised my arm, and kissed the back of my hand. Sometimes, all the hours and days in a lifetime seem of little value when compared to one special moment.' |
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