thedrifter
01-22-07, 03:55 PM
Article published Jan 22, 2007
Alzheimer's patients pitch in
A different kind of care package
By MEG HECKMAN
Monitor staff
Shortly before Christmas, a couple of Marines stationed in Iraq received boxes stuffed with candy canes, water guns, Slim Jims, poker chips and handwritten notes from half a dozen women living at The Birches, an assisted living home in Concord.
The packages' contents were meant to make life in a war zone easier, but the act of sending them had a different purpose. News reports about the war were troubling many of the home's 52 residents, who struggle with memory loss, Alzheimer's disease and other forms of dementia. Some confused the present with the past and relived their own wartime experiences. Others forgot that the war is far away, not outside their own windows.
Recently, the staff found a way to help residents deal with their anxiety: Soldiers' Angels, a website that connects troops with stateside pen pals. The two Marines, whom the women call "our boys," get weekly cards and monthly shipments of goodies ranging from the practical (deodorant) to the yummy (last week, the women packed cookies.) The residents, meanwhile, seem much calmer about the war.
"Sometimes, the action is forgotten later, but in the moment, it's so important," said Lorna Forgit, program director. "We had to find a way to validate their feelings in a positive way. We're not talking about death tolls and politics."
It's common practice to steer people with Alzheimer's away from negative news because the disease makes it difficult to place events in proper context. But the staff at the Birches also tries to preserve residents' routines. For many, that means starting their days with a newspaper or CNN.
Now, when residents show concern over current events, the staff encourages them to join the Soldiers Angels club. This week, half a dozen women gathered around a table in one of the common rooms, sipping cranberry juice, passing around blank note cards and deciding what to include in the next package.
Michele Pszonowsky, an activities assistant, reminded the women what was in last month's package and read a thank-you note from one of the Marines. Then she passed around a list of suggested - and banned - items.
"We can't send pork, alcohol or pornography," she said.
"Well," replied one of the women. "We're not into that."
Sara Teets, a resident who served in the Air Force as a younger woman, read from the list: laundry soap, trail mix, Copenhagen tobacco, aftershave, feminine hygiene supplies. Teets stopped.
"So there must be ladies there?" she asked.
"Of course," Pszonowsky replied. "You were one of them."
"I never got a package like that," Teets said.
After a few minutes, the women settled on a host of practical items. The homemade banana bread, they decided, wouldn't survive the 14-day trip to Iraq, but store-bought cookies will. Next came the note cards. The women took turns writing or dictating brief comments, telling the Marines to stay safe and thanking them for their service.
"They're going to be so happy to hear from us," Dot Rubin said. "Can you imagine getting this letter? They're going to be thrilled."
Ellie
Alzheimer's patients pitch in
A different kind of care package
By MEG HECKMAN
Monitor staff
Shortly before Christmas, a couple of Marines stationed in Iraq received boxes stuffed with candy canes, water guns, Slim Jims, poker chips and handwritten notes from half a dozen women living at The Birches, an assisted living home in Concord.
The packages' contents were meant to make life in a war zone easier, but the act of sending them had a different purpose. News reports about the war were troubling many of the home's 52 residents, who struggle with memory loss, Alzheimer's disease and other forms of dementia. Some confused the present with the past and relived their own wartime experiences. Others forgot that the war is far away, not outside their own windows.
Recently, the staff found a way to help residents deal with their anxiety: Soldiers' Angels, a website that connects troops with stateside pen pals. The two Marines, whom the women call "our boys," get weekly cards and monthly shipments of goodies ranging from the practical (deodorant) to the yummy (last week, the women packed cookies.) The residents, meanwhile, seem much calmer about the war.
"Sometimes, the action is forgotten later, but in the moment, it's so important," said Lorna Forgit, program director. "We had to find a way to validate their feelings in a positive way. We're not talking about death tolls and politics."
It's common practice to steer people with Alzheimer's away from negative news because the disease makes it difficult to place events in proper context. But the staff at the Birches also tries to preserve residents' routines. For many, that means starting their days with a newspaper or CNN.
Now, when residents show concern over current events, the staff encourages them to join the Soldiers Angels club. This week, half a dozen women gathered around a table in one of the common rooms, sipping cranberry juice, passing around blank note cards and deciding what to include in the next package.
Michele Pszonowsky, an activities assistant, reminded the women what was in last month's package and read a thank-you note from one of the Marines. Then she passed around a list of suggested - and banned - items.
"We can't send pork, alcohol or pornography," she said.
"Well," replied one of the women. "We're not into that."
Sara Teets, a resident who served in the Air Force as a younger woman, read from the list: laundry soap, trail mix, Copenhagen tobacco, aftershave, feminine hygiene supplies. Teets stopped.
"So there must be ladies there?" she asked.
"Of course," Pszonowsky replied. "You were one of them."
"I never got a package like that," Teets said.
After a few minutes, the women settled on a host of practical items. The homemade banana bread, they decided, wouldn't survive the 14-day trip to Iraq, but store-bought cookies will. Next came the note cards. The women took turns writing or dictating brief comments, telling the Marines to stay safe and thanking them for their service.
"They're going to be so happy to hear from us," Dot Rubin said. "Can you imagine getting this letter? They're going to be thrilled."
Ellie