Our Memory Care program at Ebenezer now has a name –Dimensions. 
Dimensions has five building blocks:

• Wellness through person-centered, relationship –based care,
  
• Innovative training
  
• Engagement
  
• Supportive environments
  
• Family education and support
  

We have gathered best practices in each of these realms and are giving our sites the tools they need to implement them effectively and consistently. 

I chose the name Dimensions not just because it sounds like the word dementia, but because of all the things the word demands that we think about, such as . . .

The person with dementia has many different dimensions  
We can’t assume that what we see or hear or assume about a person is all of what is there.  We must be curious, patient and respectful as we work to discover the length, breadth and depth of each person’s history, personality, preferences, sense of purpose, habits, idiosyncrasies, hot buttons, skills (yes, these people still have skills) and strengths. Their long-term interests and passions need to be encouraged. These people still have a sense of humor and a need to laugh, even if that doesn’t seem obvious.

The spiritual dimension
Did you know that some Native American cultures believe that persons with dementia are doing important spiritual work—communicating with spirits at a level the rest of us cannot understand.  I love the inspiration this idea provides. It spurs me to work hard to create more and more calm in our Ebenezer environments.

Imagine how we might honor and reward care partners and caregivers if we all agreed that persons with dementia were indeed doing the most important spiritual work on the planet! Imagine the environments we would build for these folks! Imagine the walking paths, the sense of peace and purpose, the accessibility of nature.  

The spiritual dimension is indeed another dimension of the person to consider in order to give them the care they require. What moments in their life do they hold as sacred? When do they feel most at peace, most at one with all things? Where have they found solace during hard times in the past? It is important to ponder these questions, search for clues, and to askthe individual, if they are able and willing to respond to them. 

The point I am making is  part of the  theme I often remind myself and all those whom I train on various dementia care topics:  People with dementia are PEOPLE, first and foremost. They have needs (to be filled) and quirks (to be enjoyed) just like the rest of us. There are things that make them laugh (to be discovered and used as often as possible).  They have likes and dislikes (to be respected) good days and bad days (to be tolerated) and they have courage and resilience (to be admired and emulated).
A person with dementia NEVER stops being a person.  
With thanks to Megan Carnarius, author and nursing home operator, for the insight on Native American beliefs.   
~ Marysue Moses
Dimensions Program Coordinator
mmoses1@fairview. org  

​

​In grad school about a decade ago, I ran across an article that provides guidance,
inspiration and reassurance for exhausted dementia care partners. Is there anyone out
there caring for a person with dementia who is NOT exhausted at this time of year? If so,
please send me YOUR insights to share in a future blog!
​
Wayne Ewing’s article, “Land of Forgetfulness: Dementia Care as Spiritual Formation,”
recounts his journey as caregiver for his wife who was diagnosed with early onset
Alzheimer’s disease at age 55. Wayne quickly realized that his skills as a clergyman and
educator, while relevant, were not the entire package of what he needed in order to cope
with the change in his “Beloved,” as he calls her, and to navigate the transformed waters of
their relationship.  

Wayne considered the wide range of needs that both he and his Beloved now had to
contend with. He figured them out one by one and in time, Wayne discovered that he could meet his Beloved in the present moment. As they walked together in a pine forest near their home, he marveled at and shared in the delight and awe she expressed at the beauty around them.    

This led Wayne to begin to ruminate on the Alzheimer’s Association’s Ten Warning Signs of
Alzheimer’s disease. Using an impressive knowledge of many religious traditions and
spiritual scribes, he imagined how all those (scary and depressing sounding) warning signs
might be looked at in a new light, the light of spiritual formation.  He handily spun that list
into Ten Steps in Spiritual Formation, pointing out the following:  

•  Memory Loss…St. John of the Cross described “the sum of all perfection” as

“the oblivion of the world.” How many people on earth use meditation or other
practices precisely to clear the mind of details that keep us away from enjoying the
here and now?)

•  Problems with Language…Mother Teresa said, and religious mystics have agreed,

that “God is the friend of silence.”

•  Disorientation of time and place…Meister Eckhart wrote that “the soul who

knows God knows God above time and place.”

•  Poor or decreased judgment…All religions counsel us to abandon judgment. 

For example, the Bible tells us to “Judge not, and ye shall not be judged” (Matt. 7:1).

• Problems with abstract thinking and problem solving…In many spiritual

traditions, this is viewed as a stepping stone towards an increased ability to
dissolve ones thoughts and create calm. 

•  Misplacing Things…can be seen as a sign of losing attachment to material

possessions… (I plan on reminding myself of this one the next time I misplace my
phone!)

•  Changes in mood or behavior…Nicolas of Cusa notes that these changes are

required in order to gain spiritual wisdom.

•  Changes in personality…Nicolas of Cusa also maintains that personality

changes are to be expected if one is to grow spiritually.

•  Loss of initiative…Meister Eckhart’s advice was to be passive in order to allow

the holy to be active within us. 
Wayne’s thinking reminds me of what I have learned about a common Native American
view of persons with dementia:  that they are actually in communication with the spirit world
at a level that none of the rest of us can understand. This way of looking at dementia
intrigues me. It supports my certainty that even though a person with dementia may be
quiet, important spiritual work of some kind is going on, deep inside.
I thought I would wrap up the blog right there.  But no.  Here goes.
My beloved husband died of cancer over 5 years ago. He was on hospice for a little over
two months, and bedridden for just a week and half. Phil was an extremely smart, hyper-
witty, charming, snarkily funny guy. He had been an actor since he was 6 years old. He
could be very loud on occasion.  It was amazing to see Phil become so quiet in his last
weeks.  While it didn’t occur to me at the time to use the term “dementia” for anything that
was going on with him, it was several  years later that I suddenly realized that he actually
was exhibiting dementia symptoms in his last 10 days: trouble with language and motor
skills, disorientation, nonsensical speech, lack of initiative.  For a time, our verbal
communication consisted of him whispering the last few words of whatever I had just said to
him back to me. But one day, he departed from that pattern. When I said, “I love you,” he
replied, “I love you too.”  How one little word can mean the world!   That was the last thing
he said to me, or anyone.  I had assumed I’d be playing all sorts of his favorite music as the
end drew near, but instead, it felt to me like he was very busy inside (and things were
probably noisy enough). It seemed that the spiritual journey he was on required his entire
focus and attention.  I think (and hope) that was the right call.
Wishing you and whomever you care for a calm and bright new year!
​
-- Marysue Moses, Ebenezer Dimensions Program Coordinator, mmoses1@fairview.org
Wayne Ewing’s article, Land of Forgetfulness: Dementia Care as Spiritual Formation” is
published in Religion, Spirituality, and Aging: A Social Work Perspective, by Harry R.
Moody, The Haworth Social Work Practice Pres, 2005.
Thanks also to Megan Carnarius for information on the Native American view of dementia,
and to Mirjam Berger and David Cobb for insights related to Wayne Ewing’s article.

​Thankful11/21/2018
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Writing on this day before Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday, I am thinking about all the people I’ve known, loved, worked with, learned from and admired who have lived or are living with dementia.

Mary Ellen is top of mind today. She was supremely intelligent, stunningly beautiful, elegant,  well-travelled, and maintained a wild sense of humor.  As her dementia progressed, she exercised her love of rhyming more and more.  She was famous for enthusiastically blurting out, at random, “If you get to heaven before I do, just drill a hole and pull me through!”  One day as I was sitting with a small group of residents, Mary Ellen was clearly in her rhyming mood.  So I challenged her to make up a rhyme for everyone in the group.  She did not hesitate:  “Marysue, how do you do, Millie, you are silly, Dottie Dottie two by four, can’t get through the bathroom door”.  (Fortunately, Dottie was hard of hearing.)  ”Peg has a funny leg, Bernice fell in the grease, Mary Ellen is swellin’!”  
I think about Jean, who knew lots and lots of Shakespeare.  Well, she was British, so of course she did!  She spoke it simply and beautifully, better than some actors I’ve heard at the Guthrie, I swear!  When she was on hospice and just a few days away from her departure from this life, I whispered some Shakespeare into her ear.

I think about Betty, the Amazing Betty, who had been a pole vaulter in high school and college.   She used a walker now, but loved being reminded of her former skill.  She drank green tea way before it was popular.  Betty had travelled all over the world, by herself.  You could not name a country she was not absolutely sure she had been to, although a few of them she was only “pretty sure” about.

And another Betty was a wonderful pianist who could sit down at a piano and play like a virtuoso, though she might not be able to tell you who the composer of the piece was.  
And another Betty knew a ton of songs from musicals; we had a lot of fun singing them together…“Getting to know you, getting to know all about you!”  When Betty sang, it was with great joy.    

Another Betty had been an artist, quite a painter.  She also knew how to fly a plane.  She was deep, this Betty.  I remember the day she was scheduled to move out to another place.  Her needs had grown beyond what could be provided where I was working at the time.  She was not yet aware that she was to leave us that day, but for some reason she came to my office in the early morning, stood in the doorway looking right at me and said, “Have a nice life.” 

I think of Millie who danced up a storm. She and her husband had gone to ballrooms every weekend, for years and years.  Millie was in great shape from all that dancing!
I think of Eunice…fragile, vulnerable, always wearing a fashionable hat Eunice, always looking for her mother, always needing to find her.  Eunice had cared for her mother, who had lived with Alzheimer’s disease.  Eunice was not alert to the fact that she was now in the same boat.   Eunice had been an avid golfer and even had a photo of herself and Arnold Palmer together!  She was very proud of that!  And she was the most competitive Balloon Volleyball player I’d ever seen.  

I think of my mom, of course.  I see her soft brown eyes and feel the way she tilted her head and looked at me that one time I came to visit.  It was pretty late in her journey with dementia, I hadn’t seen her for a number of months and I had wondered if she would recognize me.  I could tell she maybe didn’t know my name but the love that radiated through those eyes just about knocked me over.  She wasn’t speaking much, if at all, by then, although I heard that one time she came out with an excited exclamation of “Bacon!” when she recognized the smell on her way to the dining room. 
I could go on and on, listing the strengths and passions and quirks of so many people I’ve known who have touched me deeply, who have cemented my desire to keep connecting with people with dementia and to keep working to make their lives easier and more fulfilling.   

I have a friend and colleague who had a stroke a couple years ago.  Yes, he has some struggles with word-finding, organization, and short-term memory.  His whimsical sense of humor and his personality are delightfully present.
I am grateful for all these people mentioned here, and for many whom I have not mentioned, including people I’ve seen present at conferences who defy the stereotype we all too often latch onto when we hear that someone has “dementia.” Many folks are successfully living with early stage dementia and working hard to erase the stigma that surrounds that word.  
​
I am grateful for the strengths and skills that people with dementia retain.  I am grateful that people with dementia continue to be themselves.  Yes, the packaging looks different, and there are adjustments of expectations to be made on our part, not to mention theirs, but the spirit that drives people with dementia is unmistakably intact, if only one can learn how to connect with it.  If only we do not give up on them!   
 
-- Marysue Moses, Dimensions Program Coordinator 

Integrity. That word has a lot do with truth and honesty, things that can get a bit murky in dementia care, as we work to validate feelings and honor the way a person with dementia views the world.  At our recent Mission Breakfast event at Ebenezer, I was asked to prepare a story that related to Integrity, one of our five core Ebenezer values. To tell the truth (ahem), I wasn’t quite sure (at first) that I could spin the story I really wanted to tell (yes, I chose the story before being assigned the value) into being the perfect fit for the value of Integrity, but I believe I’ve come around!
 
Integrity in dementia care has lot to do with honoring and celebrating who each person is, at their core, connecting with their passions, skills, accomplishments and dreams.  
 
At one of our sites there was a resident named June. She was British, and I learned she had had a career as an opera singer. I was so excited to meet her and so hoping I could get her interested in the arts project I was involved in at her site -- using Shakespeare, Poetry and Music to engage residents and stimulate their memories around the theme of love.  I visited with June one day in her room.  She told me about her singing career, about touring overseas, performing in Prague and many other capitals of Europe, even singing with Pavarotti, I think. Lying down in her bed as we chatted, June was most cheerful, hospitable and animated.  Clearly she loved reminiscing about her career.  She told me she had also performed onstage in many musicals.  I asked her what parts she had played.  In her Northern British accent, she proudly replied:  “I played Laurie in Oklahoma!  But y ’know,” she continued, “My voice isn’t what it used to be, and I really don’t sing much anymore.”
 
I could hardly wait to see if we could get June out to attend the sessions that were part of our 6-month long project. She didn’t make it to the first couple, but the third one was all about music, and she was feeling well enough to come along.  Bright-eyed and very engaged throughout the session, June was often the first person to give a response when Jeanie Brindley-Barnett of MacPhail Music Center asked the group a question. Near the end, Jeanie played the song “People will Say we’re in Love”, the famous love duet from Oklahoma. Then, Jeanie very casually invited June to sing it. 
 
June did not hesitate.  Her voice was creaky and warbling at first, but she put her heart into it and when she hit those high notes near the end of the song; her voice simply soared across the room, pure and free. Everyone in the room had an experience of the singer she once had been. Memory care residents and staff applauded heartily when the song was done. I looked over at Jeanie and saw that she, like me, had tears sliding down her face. I remember thinking in that moment that our project was already a complete success as far as I was concerned, based solely on what had just happened, because one resident had that opportunity to share her talent in front of a group again.
 
Unfortunately, June did not attend our other sessions.  She came to just one, wasn’t feeling well, and had to leave almost immediately. Her health was deteriorating. In fact, she died before the project was completed.
 
A month or so after she passed away, I arranged to meet with June’s daughter.  I was curious to hear more about June’s career, and thought there might be some recordings or programs in existence that might come in handy for the documentary film we were making about our project. (The day that June sang was not a day we had the film crew on site!) Her daughter let me know that June’s memory, once she got dementia, had actually….expanded…the extent of her career.  In fact, June had never toured the capitals of Europe. She had not sung with Pavarotti. She had done a lot of community theater and some non-professional light opera performances!  June did indeed play Laurie in Oklahoma, but she did not have the career she had described to me and many others in some detail, except in her imagination, fueled by dementia!   
 
I admit I was a little disappointed at first, finding this out, but then I thought, wow, who wouldn’t want the kind of dementia where you remember your fondest dreams and expectations for yourself as reality?! Given the choice, I think that’s a kind I’d sign up for! There’s integrity in there for sure! 
 
-Marysue Moses, Ebenezer Dimensions Program Coordinator
​

​​Misplacing Things, Paranoia and Dementia
Paranoia is one of the many possible challenges of dementia. It’s a blaming belief or suspiciousness that a person with dementia holds onto, despite explanations or lack of proof of this belief. 
 
Sometimes people with dementia will accuse others in the household of stealing something that they themselves have misplaced.  It is very tempting to try to convince the person otherwise when they are convinced that something has been stolen.  But arguing doesn’t get us very far when a person has dementia.  It usually causes stress, frustration and upset for all concerned!  It is more productive to “cross to their side of the street” in order to see things compassionately, from the person’s point of view.  Sandra Mcgurran, social worker with Fairview Home Care and Hospice Senior Services, recently shared with me the idea that “Compassion = Empathy + Action”.  This concept can be applied here.  
 
Here are some DO’S and DON’TS to guide you in giving a compassionate response in these sorts of situations.  
 
DO NOT TAKE OFFENSE on behalf of the accused person.  
DO LISTEN to what is bothering the person with dementia, and VALIDATE their feeling, i.e., “That’s not a very nice feeling, to think someone would just take something from you.”
DO RESIST THE URGE to get into an argument with the person.
DO ACKNOWLEDGE the upset. “I can see why you’re upset. I would be too, if that happened to me.”
 
DO NOT offer a lengthy opinion or a list of reasons why they shouldn’t be upset.  
DO OFFER A SIMPLE IDEA. “I wonder if your blouse is in the wash.” Or… “Maybe your wallet was left in a pocket?” 
DO BE HELPFUL and action-oriented. “I will go check the laundry room.”  “Let’s check your pockets”. 
DO ASK QUESTIONS. “Let me get this right.  What color was that shirt?  
DO BE REASSURING. “Don’t you worry.  We will get to the bottom of it.”  ‘I’m sure we’ll find it”.  “I’m good at finding things.”  
DO SHIFT THE FOCUS.   “Let’s have a cup of coffee; coffee always helps me think more clearly!”  Be sure to offer something you know the person will be interested in! 
DO DUPLICATE items that are repeatedly misplaced.  For example, if a person often loses their wallet, obtain several of the same kind to keep on hand.  Make copies of cards that are in the original, so you can stuff the replacement wallets with those.   
 
But what if YOU are the person being accused directly?  This can certainly be tricky. 
It’s hard not to feel hurt by such an accusation.  What can you do?
DO LET THAT ROLL OFF YOUR BACK in favor of remembering that your family member is functioning with a brain that is doing the absolute best it can possibly do under the circumstances of dementia. 
 
DO TRY IGNORING THE ACCUSATION.  Instead, simply validate the person’s feelings, i.e., “Oh no! Your favorite blouse is missing?  Of course you’re upset. That’s a beautiful blouse!”  
Maybe this will distract the focus from YOUR culpability, or maybe not.  Depending on the level of the person’s upset and suspiciousness, you might need to step away and if someone else is available to assist.  In that case, try, “I can see you’re upset with me.  I’ll go see if Ann will help you look.”       
 
DO THINK AHEAD.  For things that are frequently misplaced, it could be helpful to establish and clearly label a home base in the room where a purse can hang or a wallet can sit.   You might initiate a routine of checking that spot every night together.
 
Finally, it can really help in any sort of frustrating situation with a person with dementia to MAINTAIN A SENSE OF HUMOR AND GOOD WILL towards the person.  Is there a way you can turn that uncomfortable situation around and actually give the person a compliment?  Maybe you can remind them of advice they once gave you! “You know, Mom, I remember you telling me when I lost stuff that I would forget my head if it wasn’t attached.  You were so right!  You also said that lost things usually turn up if we are teensy bit patient!  That was always so helpful!”  
 
For more info on coping with paranoia as well as other challenges that can arise with dementia, see Coping with Behavior Change in Dementia: A Family Caregiver’s Guide, by Beth Spencer and Laurie White. 
--Marysue Moses, Ebenezer Dimensions Program Coordinator

If you have ever surfed websites of senior housing options, I bet you have frequently run into the term “person-centered care” which we owe to Dr. Thomas Kitwood, a British physician who focused on the importance of remembering that a person with dementia is first and foremost a PERSON with particular needs, challenges, strengths and preferences. 

Cannot expect persons with dementia to think like we do
It is also due to Dr. Kitwood’s brilliant work that nurses are no longer trained to try to orient persons with dementia to reality, e.g., “No, no, Mrs. Jones, it’s 2017 now – actually your mother is dead, and the farm has been sold!” Thank goodness for Tom Kitwood! He helped us understand that we cannot expect persons with dementia to think like we do. As I’ve heard nursing home operator and author Megan Carnarius say, “We need to cross to theirside of the street.” People with dementia simply cannot come over to ours. We need to give them responses that make sense with the way in which they understand the world. 

Relationship-based care
Dementia expert Elion Caspi encourages us to also think about dementia care as “relationship-based care.”  If we do not maintain relationship and genuine connection with persons with dementia, trust wears thin. As a result, it becomes challenging for persons with dementia to accept the care they need.  

Lost in the grief
It is completely understandable that care partners are exhausted. They often get caught up in the grief of losing the precise relationship they had with their loved one before dementia was part of the picture. All too often, people become angry and bitter, even to the point of saying things such as “Alzheimer’s is worse than death.” That is a direct quote from the despondent husband of a wonderfully clever woman; let’s call her “Pam,” with whom I worked for some years. What a heartbreaking pronouncement from her husband! At this point, Pam still loved to share opinions and insight, sing Broadway tunes, reminisce, walk, dance, and hold hands.

A person is NOT their Alzheimer's disease any more than a person who has cancer is their cancer!
Those of us who have had family members with dementia or other progressive diseases do understand from whence that sentiment arises.  However, it is ultimately not a helpful one.  Nor is it accurate. It implies that we might as well give up on a person who is still very much alive. This could not be further from the truth. A person is NOT their Alzheimer’s disease any more than a person who has cancer IS their cancer. The person, an intact spiritual being, is still there, though many of their needs have changed dramatically. We do our loved ones a disservice if we refuse to rise to the occasion of their increased needs. 

Maintain connections along the way
There are many gifts to be gained by accepting where the person is at, through each and every phase of their dementia experience. There is connection to maintain all along the way. How we connect will vary with different types and different phases of dementia, but in general, smiling, eye contact, gentle touch and approach, curiosity, acceptance of where the person is, conversation about things that are meaningful to the person, sharing laughter, singing, enjoying simple pleasures, giving compliments, promoting calm, validating the person’s feelings, doing things just the way the person likes, making things easier for them, reminiscing, having fun together, sparking creativity, enjoying humor….well, the list of what can be done to maintain a healthy, nurturing relationship goes on and on.

Responding to the world from an earlier developmental time
In short, we can treat the person like a PERSON, and remember that even though this person is losing skills, even though this person may enjoy and indeed benefit from things that children like, this person is still an adult who is simply responding to the world from an earlier developmental time. This person still has strengths and skills we must actively encourage and appreciate in order for them to have a meaningful life.     

Language is powerful
Did you notice that I’ve been using the term “care partner” rather than “caregiver?”  Language is powerful. When the relationship between a person with dementia and someone caring for them is viewed more as a partnership, what’s implied is that bothpersons have something to give. Think about it…What might persons with dementia still have to offer us, their care partners?

Some bonds remain unbreakable
They can give valuable input as to what they like and what they don’t like. They can lend us wisdom from past experience; they can share memories of olden days, with humor and perspective. They can inspire us with their courage and resilience. They can give us love. In this process, we may be surprised at how flexible our own capacity to love may become. Even in the late stage of their dementia, our loved one may remind us how some bonds remain unbreakable. Caring for persons with dementia may give us more patience and more appreciation for wordless communication and for life than we’ve ever known.
​ 
We are in this together
Thinking about our relationship as a partnership will help make us more open to a person’s participation and input. We just might respect, value and love this person all the more.  We are not the same as this person, and we have each been impacted by dementia and changed forever in vastly different ways, but surely we are in this together.      
 
 
--Marysue Moses, Ebenezer Dementia Care Program Coordinator  ​

​If I am in the earliest phase of dementia, I generally will hide my deficits pretty well, even though I may be experiencing fear and anxiety as I realize that my brain is not functioning as well as it used to. Because people with dementia lose skills in the reverse order that children gain them, this phase represents the loss of my Adult Learning.  This means that those skills that I got really good at when I became a full-fledged adult will be the first abilities that I lose. I may have challenges with word-finding, vocabulary and math. I may have issues with driving (car accidents, tickets) and my checkbook may become increasingly confusing and difficult for me to manage. I might mix up medications, so please keep an eye on that. I can’t seem to plan an event any more, make a shopping list, or even cook a whole meal.  Multitasking is way too overwhelming for me.  My speech may become vague as I struggle to remember the details of whatever you are asking me about. 

It is important (not just now but throughout the dementia experience) that you as my care partner remember and focus on the strengths that I still have. There are many! In this early phase, I still have a sense of humor. Please help me find opportunities to laugh.  Ask me questions you know I can still answer. Do not quiz me to remind me of what I am forgetting.) I still have the capacity for ideas and decisions, so be sure to give me some choices. Relationships are still important to me.  Please reassure me that you care.  Hold my hand and speak to me with warmth and kindness. I still have interests. Help me explore them. I will have fun reminiscing with you about days gone by because my long-term memory is still really good. I can probably still use clocks, watches and calendars to some degree.  Give me reminder notes if those still work for me. 

In this phase, I will most of all need compassion and understanding.  I am still a person, a person whose spirit is experiencing considerable anguish at the moment. Please avoid arguing with me, and do whatever you can to make things easier for me.  But please try not to scold or embarrass me in the process.  If you see that I am frustrated, it’s okay to say, “It’s so frustrating, isn’t it!” Please don’t take it personally if I get mad at you or seem to blame you at times.  I do this because I am scared.  I have a sense that I am losing control.  If you can let my frustrations roll off your back and just acknowledge that I seem upset, if you can apologize to me even though you don’t know what you did to provoke my anger, I bet I will relax, and this might even encourage me to share my deeper feelings with you.  I so need your love, support and your patience at this time.  Thank you for asking me what I need!  
​
--- Marysue Moses, Ebenezer Dementia Care Program Coordinator

This blog was inspired by information and insight in the book A Deeper Perspective on Alzheimer’s and Other Dementias, by Megan Carnarius.

When persons with dementia move into a memory care community, it can take from several weeks up to three months or more for the person to adjust and feel comfortable with the new environment and routine.  From my personal experience working with memory care residents at one assisted living for over a decade, I would say the average amount of time before the person settled in was no longer than a month.  Your loved one may be angry for a while, and may seem more confused than before.  This is a perfectly normal phase.  Rest assured, things will improve in time.  Here are ten tips to help ease the transition:

1.  If your loved one has limited short-term memory, it may be helpful to reassure them that staying in this new place is “temporary”, i.e., “just for the summer”, “just for a few months”.  Telling them, “The doctor wants you to stay for a little while” may work if the person has a very good relationship with their doctor, and if they tend to place their doctor on a pedestal. “Stay for supper. You have a reservation, and the meal’s already paid for” might also be an effective approach.        
2. Introduce your loved one to other residents and staff as though these people are already your friends.
3. Avoid explanations like “You’re here so they can take care of you.” A person with dementia may not think that he or she is sick.  Likewise, “This is your home now!” is probably the least comforting thing you can say to a person who feels out of place.  Instead of trying to argue with the person, focus on empathizing with their feelings, then distracting them.  “I know it’s strange to be in a new place. Hey, I hear they have a lovely patio – let’s find it!”  Or, “Of course you don’t like it yet. You only just got here.  See how you feel in a few days! ” 
4. “I’ll help you get used to it” might be reassuring to your loved one, especially if you actually follow up on that. Attend activities with your loved one, eat a meal with them and make conversation with their new “friends”.    
5. Decorate your loved one’s room with items that define who this person is. You want staff to be able to know something about them the minute they walk in the room.  An example might be a person whose hobby was making quilts. You could put a beautiful quilt on the bed or on the wall, and bring her sewing box with fabric pieces, yarn, thread (no pins) patterns, measuring tape, etc.)
6. Create familiarity in your loved one’s room by bringing their favorite chair or other significant familiar possessions.  Avoid photos from their recent past, (unless the photos are of grandchildren). Pictures of their mom and dad, or of you when you were a child, will be more relatable.  You could even write the names of the people under each photo to give staff members a good starting point for making conversation. 
7. Hang items on the wall at 5’ or below, wherever your loved one’s line of vision is. They need to be able to see and touch their belongings.
8. If allowable, distinguish the door to their room or apartment with their name or signature, hung about 4 feet up.  
9. If allowable, hang an 8 x 10 photo of when your loved one was much younger to the side of the door or place it in a Memory Box Cabinet.  This is a wonderful tool to help people with dementia identify where they live.  Many persons with dementia think of themselves as much younger than they actually are. Staff members will also benefit from seeing this photo, it reinforces that your loved one is a complete person who has lived a long and full life.  
10. Lastly, a tip for your benefit:  Please do not bring in items of great value that you would regret losing. Wedding rings often fall off fingers and get lost. Some residents with dementia are fond of giving things away. My own mother threw most of her valuable jewelry in the trash at one point.  Some families replace a wedding ring with a similar piece of costume jewelry in order to avoid losing that heirloom. Others simply promise their loved ones that they will keep it safe for them.

Many of these wonderful tips are taken from the wonderful guidebook, Moving a Relative with Memory Loss, by Laurie White and Beth Spencer, available throughWhisp Publications, ​