Do you lie to someone who has Alzheimer’s
One of the hardest things for me to learn was that agreeing with Mom, at all cost, was the first line of defense no matter how peculiar or troublesome the behavior.
The problem is, most of us are taught to be “truth-tellers” regardless. To flat-out lie to a parent or authority figure is a most odious sin.
Well, that’s probably true until your parent or loved one is in the middle stages of Alzheimer’s
The next day after Mom moved in with us on a permanent basis, I awoke to find her sitting on the edge of the bed with bags packed and ready to go home. I lied and assured her that it was only temporary, a week to help out with our home-based business. She’d done that before when her memory was fine and I thought she’d agree to it now without conflict. No, she would not, she let me know. She’d been here for weeks and weeks, she said, and she was going home! Her arms crossed her chest and her determined chin jutted.
Mom had only moved in the day before and already I was exhausted. My heart hammered and my stomach twisted, I knew it was time to lie and the thought made me break out in a sweat.
“Okay, Mom,” I finally agreed after every other argument failed. “I’ll take you home in the morning. Let’s put your clothes away until later. Then I will help you re-pack them.”
After much thought, she finally agreed and emptied her bags
I’d finished several hours work in the den before I noticed the silence and wondered what Mom was doing to occupy herself now.
When I turned the corner into her room, I had a sudden, sinking feeling of deja vu. She sat on the foot of the bed, bags packed again, smiling innocently. “I’ve been here a couple months now and I thought you might take me home after awhile.”
My heart sank! We had had the same argument a couple times already, and I’d offered the same reasoning and pleading and coaxing and begging. It always ended with the same result, Mom was crying and I was angry and Alzheimer’s had won because I’d lost all composure. I wanted to shout! “You have not been here for months. You’ve been here for 2 days and we’ve already unpacked your bags 15 times!“
But I didn’t. I swallowed instead and soothed Mom where she sagged at the foot of the bed. Then I opened my mouth to explain it all again, ‘she’d only just arrived, she’d forgotten, she was going to stay with us awhile, she might get to go home and she might not’–then I stopped. I knew she wouldn’t understand, she couldn’t understand and it wasn’t her fault. Then, I began the lie, “Okay, Mom, I don’t have time right now but I’ll run you home first thing in the morning.”
Her eyes glistened with fresh tears and she had the look of a 5 year-old given a beloved toy. “I don’t mean to make you mad,” she explained. “I just want to go home. I like visiting with you, but I’ve been here for months and I need to go home and check on my place.”
I gave her a hug and broadened the lie, “I know, Mom. You’ve been here a long time. I’ll take you home in the morning. We’ll get up early and head over to your place.”
She was overjoyed!
That same lie was repeated (along with a few others) many times every single day for many months.
Mom never put her clothes back into the dresser for the entire time that she lived with us. She lived out of her suitcases. I didn’t like it, but I learned to live with it. You learn to live with many things that would normally be unacceptable but for Alzheimer’s. I finally learned that explaining Alzheimer’s and memory loss to Mom every half hour was a hopeless endeavor, she didn’t understand what I was saying and never remembered a word of my explanations. And to help myself, I suppose, I finally reasoned that I wasn’t lying to my Mom at all, for she never remembered what I told her anyway, but I was lying to Alzheimer’s.
And more lies may need to be told when it’s time:
- Remove their car when driving is a hazard to themselves and others
- When moving them to a nursing home
because they need the additional care
- Give them medication, showers, Doctor’s Appointments, and the list goes on–
Have you faced this issue or some other behavior that was difficult for you? How did you handle it?
I’d love to see your comments and have a discussion about this post. Lying to my Mom was one of the hardest things I had to learn to do. How about you?
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A few things you might need if your parent comes to live with you
Queen Super Soft Blankie
Those with Dementia love baby dollsNon Skid Hospital SlipperMedication ReminderERASABLE CalendarSpray Hand held ShowerBidet Self-cleaning sprayI Love Lucy
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Yes this is a good food of thought, it makes it more difficult when running a care facility with more than 3/active dementia residents, and they are all out walking lunch our, only thing that you can lie upon to make them dine is that they are late for a meeting and everyone else is waiting for them inside, you must have a very convincing tongue, but all said, its an easier way to ensure deficient and happy working grounded.
I have found that agreeing with my mother saves so much energy.
My dad however doesn’t want to lie to her and they battle all the time
I told him you’re not lying to her you’re lying to the monster that lives in her
He doesn’t get it yet. …
Jo-ann,
You certainly have the right idea. Agreeing saves time and patience all the way around. Maybe your dad does not understand yet that arguing makes no difference and only causes more frustration.
I think you already see, he probably will eventually. It is just taking him longer to understand that it is a waste of time, energy, and only causes more ill feelings to argue with someone who has dementia.
Keep up the good work with your Mom, Jo-ann!
All our best blessings for you and your dad,
~Sandy
Beautiful post. I’m happy to have discovered you on twitter. I am awriter who happens to be a nurse writing about Alzheimer’s, among other things. I have loved and lost two aunts to this disease and have also cared for countless others in my work in hospitals and nursing homes. You are providing a truly valuable service to those living with this disease.
Marianne, I’m delighted you found our website and thank you for the kind comments.
It is sad to lose anyone to Alzheimer’s, but to lose two Aunts, is special sorrow.
As a nurse and writer, I imagine you have become quite attached to many of your patients as well. I have much gratitude for you and all nurses, especially those who have the patience and endurance to work in a nursing home.
When I was only a young girl, my Mom was a dietitian in a nursing home. She cried many times over the loss of an elderly patient that she had befriended. She spoke of them all like they were family members.
Bless you Marianne and all nurses in this world,
~Sandy
All,
Thank you so much for sharing your experiences and candid comments. This helps me a lot. I am facing similar situation with my mother and I get extremely stressed out when she is being completely irrational and I often try to explain the truth to her. 90 % of the time, she does not comprehend the truth or does not want to acknowledge it. I get frustrated trying to make it better for her and I seem to fail all the time. She sees me stressed and it makes it worse for her. I felt for a long time that I was stuck in this cycle. Now I know that my situation is not unique and I will try the “white lie” approach. Hopefully this reduces my stress and also hers.
You care certainly not alone. I was totally exasperated when my Mom first came to live with us– for all the very reasons you state and explain. It’s just part of their memory and cognitive losses and no fault of the care-giver.
It took me awhile to learn that lesson too, rather than convince them of a fact just change the subject.
Glad you found us and hope you come back any time!
Sandy
Great post Sandy and great perspective Ellen. We’ve said it so many times that they live in their own world but this really adds a new dimension to that perspective.
This truly is one of the most difficult things about being an Alzheimer’s caregiver. For those can’t bring themselves to lie to their love one with AD or some other form of dementia, think of it this way: Your loved one can’t enter the “real world” anymore. They have lost that capability. When you play with a child by drinking tea from cups that aren’t there or riding a horse that isn’t there, you aren’t lying to the child, you are entering their world for a little while. That’s what you have to do with dementia. You have to enter their world. They can’t come to yours.
One more thought: All dementia patients want to go home. It’s the greatest tragedy of the disease process. As less and less is familiar to them, they search for that most familiar place to all of us — home. Unfortunately, they don’t recognize it when they are there. Our job as caregivers is to make things as comfortable and familiar as possible, which may involve telling the dementia patient what they want to hear (ok, lying) rather than what is technically the truth. Err on the side of kindness, not legalism, in your interactions with your loved one with this disease and you will seldom go wrong.
Ellen, you explained that so well. I love the analogy of attending a child’s tea party. That’s exactly what it’s like, you’re joining their world. They can’t join yours anymore so you have to be a part of their world if you want to stay in-touch with them.
Sandy