Stories of another world

Recently I've been talking to a lot of my residents, and their families, about their lives. The company I work for has recently introduced some new paperwork that you have to fill in which is a life story, to try to get the care workers to know their residents better and learn about their lives. And, whilst most of the time I hate paperwork, of which there seems to be more and more every day, the life story is fantastic!

Talking to some of my residents has made me realise how much has changed in the past century. Stories of true poverty, of not having matching shoes and having to dye a brown shoe black so they had two the same colour, stories of going into service and having to sleep under a sink... It's amazing, that they have come so far in their lives, that they have come from that poverty and accomplished so much... I feel sad in a way that I will never have those experiences; not that I want to live in poverty, but that I think everyone could learn something from that, and that I will never have those stories to tell... And in the world as it is now, in the UK anyway, very few people live in that poverty. All children have to go to school and can learn to read and write, whereas less than a century ago, one of my residents had to drop out of school at a young age, as it was a privilege not a right, and taught herself to read and write whilst working as a cleaner and living under a sink just in order to survive.

Anyway, I'm not allowed to share any of the stories, but I can say that they have lead amazing lives, and it also great to know them for who they were, in their day, rather than what they have become because of their dementia. It's really inspirational. I may not be able to come from poverty and make a transformation, but I can make sure I accomplish a lot in my life... And who knows where this country will be in the next century?!

Werthers originals

I always thought it was a myth that elderly people always had werthers originals, just for the adverts?

But there's one old lady at work who always has werthers originals, bags and bags of them in her room.

She always gives me one, but because she has short term memory loss, she forgets that she's given them to me, and gives me another. And another. In about 20 minutes she'd given me about a whole bag! In the end I had to sneak them back into the bag and she'd give them to me again! Anyway, I guess it's not just a myth... And it never fails to cheer me up!

Creepy dolls at hallowe'en...

One of the treatments which some patients with dementia, particularly women with a strong maternal instinct, can benefit from is doll therapy. It's very simple, you give them a doll, and they think it's a real baby. Of course, it doesn't work with all of the patients, but for some it can be very effective at calming their agitation and making them happy.

But sometimes, it goes a bit too far, which can cause problems (and hilarity) for the carers.

One of the ladies decided to bring her 'baby' to the dinner table with her on a regular basis. Of course, there is no problem with that. However, this was a doll which had a hole in it's mouth, and the lady started to feed her baby. After each meal, we cleaned out the dolls mouth and thought no more of it. After a few weeks of this, and incidentally on hallowe'en, we noticed that the doll wasn't smelling very nice, and on closer inspection, realised that the food had actually been going inside the dolls head, through the hole in it's mouth, and was starting to rot inside the doll. We cleaned it as best we could, but were unable to get a lot of the rotten food out of the doll! So, we had no choice but to take the head off the baby. What a sight it must have been, the two of us carers sitting in the kitchen (after ensuring that the lady in question was nicely tucked up in bed) with a decapitated baby! I will never forget the expression on my supervisor's face when she walked in the kitchen and saw what we'd done! She thought it was a hallowe'en prank to terrify the residents! Luckily, once we explained what had happened, she saw the funny side of the situation, and helped us to reassemble the doll.

Needless to say, the lady in question no longer undergoes doll therapy!

(As an aside, this song was going through my head the whole time...)

In the beginning...

I started working in a care home in September 2011. Having worked there for a few months, I have discovered that there are many interesting and funny anecdotes to be told, and so I have decided to start a blog to share my experiences.

This blog is going to be completely anonymous, to protect both myself and the residents at the care home in which I work. No personal details will be shared at all, and no details of the care home.

The care home in which I work specialises in patients with dementia. The stories come from the point of view of the carer, and are not intended to make fun of or patronise anyone, but shows only the things I have experienced from my point of view.

On to the stories...