Freewrite: Their Hands, My Hands: Dementia Care

Posted for Susan Budig's Daily Freewrite Friday Focus: Hands

Their hands reach for mine as I lift them, direct them. Some are like crab claws that grab whatever they can reach. If they can’t get a grip on my hand, then anything will do, clothing, another part of my body, pulling, pinching. They may not be able to talk, but their hands can.

B. always goes for the wrists. If we are walking together, I allow him to hold a wrist. If I am trying to change his clothes, it’s a constant contest between us. He stands rigid and resistant as I struggle to get his t-shirts and sweaters off and new ones on, trying to latch onto my wrists. Why doesn’t his family buy him cardigans? What are they thinking, with all these fashionable pullover sweaters with tight hems? Just TRY getting him to bend his arm to get the sweater OFF. We learn the little tricks as we go along…but it’s never easy with some clothing.

(10 minutes,above)

R. can’t talk coherently, but her eyes can. They dart around. They smile. She loves us. We know that. And we love her back. Her hands fly around. She is so thin and birdlike, unrooted to the earth, to her wheelchair. Her hands search for a perch, for a purchase. She is afraid we’ll drop her as we transfer her from wheelchair to chair or vice versa. As we lift her with a crooked elbow under a shoulder, our other hand searches for her hand, which will latch onto anything, holding on for dear life. Though she has a lot of knit jersey pullover clothing, it is loose and not difficult to put on and take off.

Then there’s B. Most of her clothing is knit jersey and easy access. Though some of it is easier to get on than off. When I try to get her tight zip sweatshirt off, she gets mad and starts yelling NO NO NO NO NO! and if she gets a chance she grabs my hand and starts squeezing hard. I say “I’m so sorry!” and let her squeeze away, unless it hurts, and then I slowly inch my hand out of hers.  Usually she subsides after a while. The touch of hands that hold and don’t hurt her is calming.

D. is kind of a loner. He can no longer dress or undress himself. His clothes are soft, loose and comfortable in the mode of Banana Republic, so it is not difficult to help him. What he needs is some human touch. When he is all ready for bed I ask him if he would like a back rub. I used to put my kids to sleep this way, and now this elder relaxes under my fingers and is very appreciative of the five-minute rub, telling me I am doing a great job. Then I ask him if he wants a hug and he laughs and says, “oh yes!” He’s not ready to crawl into bed yet, but as I say goodnight, I’m confident he’ll go to bed a little happier tonight.