Dementia, safeguarding, assessments and the way forward

Many years ago sometime in the mid-late 90s when I was a junior legal secretary and working part time with the community care crisis team, I was fobbed off and ignored by a psychiatrist whose total disregard for a patient and utter contempt for me, was one of the main reasons I ended up going down the path of safeguarding vulnerable adults / managing dementia care.

I’d been asked to sit with a lady whose family were bereft at her supposedly having gone mad overnight and keep her safe until she was assessed by mental health.   For a full hour she described the most bizarre and incredible hallucinations mostly seeing a little girl in Victorian dress, sunflowers that would grow and completely surround us both and a little black and white dog I seemed to think she saw in the form of a springer spaniel.

“Ethel” was an intelligent lady and said she knew the girl and dog weren’t real because she’d been leaning to try and touch them both of which would disappear as soon as she did.  Once or twice she went “Ooh the little dog’s there – can you see him?” 

“I can’t see him no… what is he doing though what can you see?”

“Well he’s just sat there lovely thing but look when I lean to stroke him.  Gone.  He’s gone again they always go when I try to touch them that’s why I know they’re not real”

Even then as a very young and inexperienced teenager, I knew she wasn’t “mad” in the sense.  Her vivid descriptions of what she saw were by far the most bizarre thing I’d ever heard and reminded me of experiences with LSD but she seemed lucid and clear as a bell.   Ethel herself even suggested the hallucinations she was having might have been linked to a recent operation she’d had and was still wearing a patch from.  “My son thinks I’ve lost my marbles he’s the one that rang for you to come here and see if I’m doolally but I’m not love.. honestly I’m all there it’s just my eyes playing tricks”

Consultant psychiatrist arrived speaking in a very thick Asian accent and broken English (Ethel was Scottish too so you can imagine how that one went!!) but despite me trying to explain the conversations we’d had for the last hour, he wasn’t about to have a kid tell him his job and in one quick scribbled signature, she was admitted to the secure mental health unit for older people.   I have never nor will I ever forget that lady and how she pleaded and begged the psychiatrist (and me) to believe her and she wasn’t going mad.   I doubt she will ever have returned home to her flat and will probably have lived out the rest of her days in care pilled up the eyeballs to keep her quiet and manage what was nothing more than her eyes playing tricks.

The long, short and horrible truth is that very few people gave the tiniest toss for older people.  It’s what set me down the path and how / why I ended up working specifically in dementia care and safeguarding vulnerable adults

When I read about “Charles Bonnet Syndrome” some years later it broke my heart to realise that’s what Ethel was suffering from and even she knew it was linked to her sight but back during the 90’s we lived in a very different world when it came to care of older people.  I have known people being very close to misdiagnoses due to CBS as recently as last year however so we’re still in urgent need of educating those that think they’re beyond the capacity to learn anything more.  *Never trust anyone that really takes the view they know all there is to know or can’t learn something from a mere member of public, younger person or unqualified carer.  That’s the height of stupidity and ignorance right there.

The video and TED talk with Oliver Sacks is outstanding and worth setting aside 20 mins to watch with a brew.

I later began teaching staff in dementia care and used my own little way of getting points over acting out roles  to really emphasise the point which everyone loved and said was so much better and they found much more useful than other training sessions / tutors (former actress with national youth and musical theatre don’t you know luvvies!!)  For a while I reserved that teaching style for staff I worked with and knew well not expecting the wider world to understand or find remotely amusing but then I discovered the brilliant “Teepa Snow” whose style and methods are very similar to that of mine.  Again another longer clip but if you get comfy with a brew and a biscuit, she’s well worth the 20 mins talking about dementia here here

Anyway for years I been using this this toolkit published and available to download by Alzheimer’s Society – a brilliant organisation with whom I have been working, helping and don’t intend to appear like I’m ripping on with this.  Far from it they have my utmost respect but can only work with what they have so don’t have the luxury of being able to chop and change the way I have during assessments.  I only make variations to some of the questions based on each person and my understanding of their general knowledge, abilities and limitations.

Nevertheless the toolkit is outdated, irrelevant in many ways and doesn’t always take into account the huge differences people with dementia have – indeed a few professionals don’t even have an understanding that there are many types of dementia – the word being a general umbrella term to describe many types.  It’s like someone being diagnosed with “cancer” of which there are countless types all requiring specific treatment.

You can’t write “has cancer” and expect it to offer a clear, accurate diagnosis or even adequate level of care, support and treatment.

 So within reason I have been making minor adjustments to how I assess and sad thing is we’re not supposed to improve or change things on the hop but it’s so unrealistic and unfair.

There is little room for error – even correct ones and I question whether it’s appropriate for external professionals to be calling it based mostly on just their very brief period of time with someone they may have never met before and without consultation with family, friends or carers.

One lady “J” I used to look after suffered from severe Parkinson’s and was being written off something shocking by a GP who came out to see her, decided to do an on the spot assessment and was scoring her down like he was being paid a tenner to fail her on each question.

“J” was difficult to understand at the best of times but once you knew her, you could understand and converse without any problem. She was a nervous lady and at just 61yrs of age was very young and one of the first and few people to be fitted with an apomorphine pump.  Having an impatient doctor she could barely understand looming above her didn’t help (not sat informally he literally stood over her as she lay in bed stiffened from seizures)

He asked what year it was and she slowly stuttered “Twenty…. two thousand” and he interrupted with a loud scribble on his papers muttering “OK so she is confused as to time and place” and I went “Whoa whoa hang fire – she knows what year it is let her finish” and he said “But she answered that it was the year twenty and then two thousand”

I smirked and went “You’re kidding right??” then leaned in and said to a really terrified looking J “It’s OK sweet don’t worry we’ll do that one again.  What year are we in at the minute?”

“Twenty seventeen… or two thousand seventeen… not sure which is the right way to say it”   I gave her the double thumbs up and went “Nailed it”

He asked her to “point to the one which is a marsupial” and she went “A what?”

The term “Marsupial” was one she’d never heard of before – not everyone will so again I chipped in “Which might you associate with the word “Skippy” and without missing a beat “The kangaroo”

“Which two objects are musical?” (Harp and accordion straight away)

Which object is nautical?”  (“What?  What’s Nautical?”)

“Linked to the ocean – ”

She answered before I could finished with “Penguin” which technically wasn’t wrong  – ocean and penguin do go together so I re-worded the question and asked “Which is linked to sailing / the Navy” and straight away “Oh – Anchor”

Bearing in mind this assessment has been completed with vascular dementia many of whom can’t take in and process information that way.   I have Dyscalculai (number dyslexia) and get major brain overload if hit with information I neither need nor can work with.  I like it short, sweet, simple and for that reason understand how horrible and frustrating it is to be bombarded with lengthy complex instruction.

One of my all time “favourite” residents (even though I’m not supposed to have favourites but it’s impossible not to with people like her) was Phyllis who had vascular dementia and like many would get flustered and flummoxed.    I used to joke that when she got herself wound up she sounded like Mr Jelly all “Lloobboooblbooo!!” thinking the world’s going to end when a leaf brushes the window which had her in fits of giggles because she knew I adored her and agreed she did “get my knicks in a twist”

I’ve been in the job a long while and like to think I get the best from people by approaching things in a way that works best for them.  I couldn’t joke and banter with everyone the way I could with Phyllis and vice versa but if you molly-coddled her too much it made her worse and the bawling gave way to actual tears and distress so you had to stop her in her tracks before she go run away with herself.

Ask if she wanted to wear a blue jumper because it will go nice with the tartan skirt and necklace or the pink top that will match her beige skirt and pearls… She’d never answer that in a million years without collapsing into tears.

Quite often she’d start telling you she doesn’t know anything anyway so you’d need to stop her – pick both tops up and in a nice loud and clear voice “Phyllis!!  Which one? Blue or Pink?”

“Pink”

So when Phyllis had a visit from the same impatient GP I made sure I was there during the assessment.   He visited with a young OT who was pleasant enough and very nice towards but got her in a pickle from the from the outset reading long paragraphs of text directly from the page and confusing me as well.

“Phyllis I am going to give you a name and address. After I have said it, I want you to repeat it. Remember this name and address because I am going to ask you to tell it to me again in a few minutes: John Brown, 42 West Street, Kensington”

Phyllis burst into “I can’t remember anything I’ll never answer that I don’t anything me I just don’t – “

Me – “OK stop stop stop.  Phyllis.  Remember this – “Mr Smith, High Street, Town” Say it with me first (she said it with me no problem)  “OK try and remember I’ll ask you in a tick”

She said tearfully she’d never remember (always did) but I chipped in and with very little prompting save for gestures with my hand to indicate she was right and could keep going she recalled the name and address.

To satisfy the GP and OT we did the name and address from the assessment – same way allowing her a bit of extra time and patience – she nailed it.

They were about to score her down for being unable to recall the last year of the second world war until I gestured for them to give her a minute or so.  The second world war ended a long while ago she’d slept since then and her brain wasn’t up to pulling facts and figures out the back so easily.

She correctly answered but here’s the interesting thing.

The question directly after is “Who is the present monarch” and Phyllis – as others have done answered “King George” which to be honest impresses me every time.

I’d struggle to answer that without a few mins and a quick search on Google so when she was being marked down, I chipped in and pointed out she’d just had her brain go digging in the back of the store room to recall info from WWII so with the question straight after relating to the monarchy, it’s not completely unreasonable for her to have answered the monarch back then rather than now.  The OT got what I meant and nodded “Ahhh yeah of course” so allowed me to reword it.

“It was King George you’re right but who is the present Monarch – who’s on the throne now?”  “Oh ermmm… Elizabeth”

So later this year one of my oldest and closest friends and I are going to sit down and look atthe assessment toolkit from scratch.

She is a highly esteemed clinical psychologist and therapist, one of only a handful qualified to teach a very unique form of intensive therapy and assistant professor at a university in Canada.

I have formed alliances with friends and colleagues (past and present) many of whom are in a great position to help get things brought right up to date – three are OT’s, two physios and the rest a nice mix of social workers and registered managers.  Without collective clout, qualification and expertise anything put forward to give clinical toolkit a revamp will be worth minus four jack-diddly-squats.

That said without the hands on, direct care experience of health care assistants, friends, family and others not considered to be knowledgeable enough to be worth listening to – changes to assessment toolkit aren’t worth diddly either.

I volunteer as a dementia friend, champion and offer informal training to care home staff so have already invited people to bombard me with their views, thoughts and opinions whatever they are but there are always going to be things missed and not even give a thought unless and until.  Those not already familiar with or following Kate Swaffer should pay her a visit as it was a recent post of hers that prompted this.

Much is based on individual experiences but that’s what counts.  I would love to hear from anyone that has a thing or two to chip in with – even if it’s just to vent and release similar stories.

I’m all ears and can only promise everything will be given due time and attention to see how we an work it and at the end of this year, I’ll bring everything to what will be long weekend sat pouring over the assessments and trying to drag it kicking and screaming into 2020

The good thing is we’ve come a long way since back when I escorted Ethel to the mental health unit as an unqualified “bit of kid” as was the term used to describe me.

Minimum care standards and safeguarding policy stepped things up and the more recent introduction of mental capacity / deprivation of liberty safeguards  came into play and have at least made sure we don’t see more cases of Ethel or young, unqualified carers ignored as standard.

Still having some problems with MCA / DoLS assessments and such but we will never have perfection nor the need to stop doing everything to improve.

My son has many health and learning disabilities including sensory processing disorder which affects the way his brain “sees” and processes information to the extent the lead Occupational Therapists asked for permission to use his assessment and results as part of training.   She had never seen anyone whose brain processed information the same way and it was so unique I understand his task of copying the Olympic rings is currently rolling around on handouts given during training.

Sam spent ages drawing an outline of what looked like a flower and then filled in curves and lines inside of it.  Took him ten minutes after which he was asked to describe the shapes and asked if he recognised the image as circles overlapping.  Only when it was pointed out did he go “Oh yeah… I didn’t see it like that until now”

Sam was failed miserably and referred to specialists so late the OT went nuts and said he was too old for therapy and the best she could offer was support for him in the shape of extra time and use of laptops, aids and adaptations to make his life easier whilst studying and whilst she diagnosed severe dyspraxia when he was 11yrs old, he was only formally diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome at 16yrs following five years being home-schooled because the local authority refused to accept the level of difficulty he would have being placed in a failing secondary school with nearly 2000 pupils about thirty of which had already bullied him relentlessly throughout primary school.

I knew Sam would struggle with a considerable part of the cognitive assessments used for older people so got him to complete the tests with me.

His score was dire.  He’s absurdly intelligent with a daft high IQ but were he not 17yrs of age and a borderline genius he’d have been misdiagnosed for sure.

The questions regarding the former female prime minister and current prime minister caught him out because the current PM is female.  He also tripped up re: name of US president and the one assassinated during the 60’s – initially answering Kennedy for both then backpedaling having realised his mistake.

What made him screw his face up like he’d just taken a swig of last week’s milk?

“WTF is a marsupial?” 

 

Image result for marsupial

Covering old ladies in tarpaulin sheets

I had a visit at my home this evening from two police officers asking if they could come  inside and discuss an incident which happened earlier in the day and I was seemingly privy to “vital information” having been there at the time, first on scene and then first to leave.

On my way into town an elderly lady I’ll call “Mrs G” was walking on the pavement alongside my car crawling in traffic and then tripped suddenly and – as older people tend to do – fell with such a smack and face down on the floor.

“We believe you stopped and called an ambulance for the lady is that right?”

“Well yes and no – I pulled up before she’d hit the ground I think (old ladies never fall quickly or gracefully) then jumped out. spoke to her then straight away bobbed my head inside the shop she’d fallen outside and asked the owner to ring an ambulance cos I had no phone”

“OK and we were led to understand you went into her handbag and purse is that correct?”

“Yes – “

“Can you just explain what the reason was for you going inside the handbag at that stage?”

“Hang on.. I don’t like the sound of where this is going but I’m pretty sure I understand so if you want to come in and don’t mind dogs, I’ll make you a brew, explain it all and show you the little note I made for in case of anyone needing to get back”

In they came with both dogs aggressively affectionate almost and I apologised and said “My eldest has been out helping police search for people a few times so she’s long since establish you guys in the high-viz and crackling walkie-talkies are friends. She’s same with the postmen too – soon as she spots the Royal Mail van or uniform she’s all over them”

They sat and were friendly enough and explained the handbag which was initially reported as missing / possibly stolen, then returned to next of kin with an envelope full of cash with my name, address, telephone number and a second signature from someone we’ve not been able to identify as yet.   “Not accusing anyone of anything but the others we spoke to seemed absolutely none the wiser about you or whether Mrs G was on her way to deposit money or had just withdrawn it.. they felt a few things might have been off and possibly need following up with some mention of you having sheets of tarpaulin in the car you’d covered her up with? Just procedure really we have to follow up and speak with you just to help enquiries”

I literally laughed aloud at the mention of tarpaulin sheet I got out and covered her up with but started to explain the joke and then went “Actually when I tell you the real reason for the tarpaulin it’ll possibly sound even more bizarre but anyway…

“I was crawling in traffic, saw her fall and and the only thing that broke her fall was her face God love her. I hit my hazard lights, hopped out the car went straight over and she was conscious, alert, able to tell me her name and address and had blood pooling in front of her with teeth on the ground being spat out intermittently.

Asked if she had any medication she needed to take or have with her such as inhalers. She said she did but was spitting out her teeth in-between trying to talk so I told her not to worry I’d get her comfy and help was on its way.

A chap arrived and stopped to help literally seconds later and he knew her and said he would ring a neighbour or relative. Whilst he was doing that I asked Mrs G if she minded me peeping in her bag just to check for any meds she might need to take there and then or medical alert cards, ID etc.

“Yes that’s fine but can I get up? I want to get up?”

“I know you do sweet but I can’t get you up or move you until paramedics have checked you over first because if you’ve done yourself a really serious injury we could make it worse by moving you I’ll make you as comfy as possible”

Whilst the other chap was there I had a look inside the handbag for meds, any ID or medical alert cards etc Sure as shit and like so many older people – her handbag was stuffed with wads of cash. Just an enormous pile of notes more fitting of a drug dealer than an elderly lady so I groaned, told the chap I was nipping inside the shop and finding out how long the ambulance would be.

I had a thick scarf which I folded and put under her head as a makeshift pillow just to take the cold off her skin and – having just literally collected a few from being freshly laundered, I took out a 4’6 winter turnout rug for one of my ponies, shook it out of the plastic wrapping and then laid it on top of her joking that the belts and buckles were nothing to worry about and it’ll do the job grand.

Two more people were there within seconds one of which was the bar manager of a pub just across the road. She too knew the lady and started ringing someone but kept breaking off “She wants to get up I think we should get her up really the ambulance should have been here by now”

“No no please don’t move her – if she’s done herself any injury and we move before she’s been assessed it can do more harm than good”   Then others arrived, about two or three cars pulled over to say they couldn’t do anything to help but just felt the need to stop and I’d not yet mentioned the massive wad of cash inside the handbag.

Guy in the motorbike shop was chilled and laid back as they come and I just went “Could you do me a favour? I’ve checked her bag she has what looks like hundreds of cash in her bag. Can you just count and double-check / countersign with me and then I can hand it to the paramedics for safekeeping?  She has a lot of money in there and I want it checking, counting and putting somewhere safe”

We counted just shy of £500 and the two purses she had in the bag had little slips of paper with pin numbers for each of her cards. There was considerable loose change at the bottom of her bag too but we just counted the notes and said some loose change was in bottom of bag but not counted. I wrote my name, address, telephone number and the chap used his stamp for the business as a means of confirmation and a countersignature.

The manager of the pub appeared from over the road, knew this lady personally and was ringing her neighbour or relatives I’m not sure. In the nicest way and without wanting to sound a real bitch, she was a bolshy, dramatic type and almost pushed people aside with talk of being a qualified first aider and bar manager and before she’d given me a chance to say a word she and the other chap and a second woman were almost calling a vote as to whether or not they should help her up off the floor.

“She wants to get up and we can’t leave her lying down like this in the pavement she’ll freeze.. (voice of Mrs G agreeing she wants to get up) and then further “Well I think we should move and make her comfortable”

I beckoned Florence Nightingale quietly to one side and said “Please don’t move that lady or let anyone else either she really had an awful fall, smashed her teeth, is bleeding from the mouth and possibly other areas but more through luck than management she’s in the perfect recovery position so the safest thing is to leave her and wait for the ambulance”

I asked if she would take and put the handbag and its contents somewhere for safekeeping in the pub and was cut short “Yep yep yep that’s fine I’ll take it I know her family”

More talk of it being disgraceful how long it was taking the ambulance and how this lady who had worked hard all her life and paid her taxes was now being told to wait lying face down in the freezing cold and wet…

There’s only so many people that are able to help and I was getting irritated with the ever growing crowd, cussing and calling the ambulance service and Florence Nightingale who was now on the phone to a relative or neighbour saying “She’s smashed all her teeth in and there’s blood all over and she wants to get up but someone said the ambulance said not to touch her but she’s a mess”

“I lay down and popped my face alongside Mrs G’s and told her “The paramedics are on their way sweet OK?”

“OK can I not get up?”

“Not just yet but I can hear distant sirens which means another couple of minutes and they’ll be able to treat you and get you up and nice and warm OK?”

“OK.. do you think I’ll be OK?”

“Pretty sure Mrs G it nearly always looks a lot worse than it is but tell you what – I have your address so will call round to see how you’re doing next week and then fingers crossed, we can have a chat without us both lying sideways like a couple of planks eh?”

She laughed, said thanks and I got up, moved the rug (tarpaulin) someone decided it was inappropriate to put on her and then as the rapid response car pulled up with the emergency ambulance just half a mile behind, I jumped in the car and drove off.

“Oh I see.. witnesses weren’t sure and the bar manager didn’t know the lady’s bag was handed for safekeeping. Think she thought because you were busying yourself with the contents and not letting them move her there might have been something not quite as it should be”

“Well pardon the language but that is utter bollocks. I took her aside and explained there were hundreds in cash and pin numbers written down for cards too.

There was nothing more I could do anyway. The others including Florence were starting to get on my tits, I don’t like hanging around adding to numbers and enjoying what others consider a bit of excitement.

Once I’d been able to ask Mrs G personal details and next of kin, briefly assessed and checked for medical alerts and done what little I could to keep her warm which yes – include a winter turnout rug for my pony – my bigger concern then was for the cash in her bag.

I’m a qualified care manager, trained emergency first responder with the ambulance service and a safeguarding practitioner for vulnerable adults.

Sadly we live in a world where some would have seen and taken that perfect opportunity, where many would not even think to count or check because they just don’t see that or even know it happens at all and then there’s us.  We just see this as a necessary thing and do it almost on autopilot so yeah maybe it seems weird to others but I just don’t do flapping, gloating or hanging around to piss off paramedics or you guys and get under the feet”

As I finished saying all this I took down a slip of paper I jotted down a few things and stuck to the fridge.

Thu 18 Jan approx 9am. Mrs G at this address. Fell on this road. Several nearby residents able to ID and contact next of kin. Cash counted checked by owner of shop, countersigned and placed in an envelope before passing to manager of the pub for safekeeping. Paramedics arrived and handed over – left telephone number with shop owner too in case of any query”

The police were great and completely understanding – even refused my offer to bob to their station and make a statement but I did give them the small note on which I’d jotted details and stuck to the fridge.

“Erm… this note about loose change and debit / post office cards with a pin number? Was that on her at the time she fell do you know? It says purses too was there more than one? Not sure those were mentioned but will check if it’s OK?”

“Absolutely of course. Might be worth just double checking all the stuff on that note is actually in the bag. Sure it is but just to tie things up neatly I’d make sure”

“Lovely well thanks for your help with this Mrs Social..”

As they left one said “Do you always drive round with horse rugs and sheets in your car?”

I clicked the key fob and opened the boot to unveil three horse rugs, 2 buckets, ropes, reins, dog harnesses and water bowls, brushes, long lines, torches and brushes.

Both of them burst out laughing.  Sheepdogs and horses.. nobody that has either or the two is usually found sporting a clean, well-kept car.

Moral of the story is always make sure you keep notes, ask for a second person to proof check, count / countersign and be aware that even though most people don’t call foul-play over that sort of thing it can easily happen.  Assume it will – make written notes and pay attention to the details as though someone will come back days, weeks or even months later to ask you about it.

Also and equally as important – winter turnout rugs designed to keep a Welsh mountain pony warm can also keep the chill off little old ladies too.

Image result for 4'6 winter turnout pony

 

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