Where Am I? Where Are My Boys?

nightmare, RN

You get out of bed, unsteady, dizzy...where am I? How do I get out...must get out, this door that door? A long dim corridor full of brown doors, where are they, where are they?! Someone coming, someone in white, more white.....talking at me. What is she saying? I don't understand...where are my boys?

"Go back to bed!".

But I must find them, must find them.

"It's only five o'clock in the morning, go back to bed!"....but where are they, must find them. Hands on my arm, pulling me....no, no I must find them, where are my boys?

Let me go...who are you, let me go. You push the figure in white away, frightened. She has stopped you from finding.....them.

"She's being aggressive again"...who is she talking about.....me? Another figure, blue this time.

"What's wrong, Mary"?

She talks to me, not at me. I understand her. She does not shout or pull at me.

My boys, where are my boys. "They are at home asleep", she says...but where am I ...where am I... "You stay with us now, Mary, remember, you've been here a while. Your boys know where you are. They will be in to see you later. Mary, it's only 5 o'clock in the morning. Let's go back to bed, eh?" Back along that corridor....all doors, more doors. Into a room, white walls, white doors.

"Do you need to go to the toilet, Mary?"

What, what... "Sit here, Mary, on the toilet". Toilet, toilet...oh yes that's what I want...Tired, need to sleep....boys later, later.......

Imagine how it feels, confused, alone, lost in your own head, in the big noisy world of a Nursing Home. Long corridors of doors each one looking exactly the same as the last one you passed. When those doors are open there is a cacophony of noise emanating from each one with each individual room resident having their own individual tastes in TV, radio or DVD's all played at high volume. Staff rush at you speaking so quickly that the confused mind just cannot process the information quickly and therefore become more confused when confronted by time-pressed, overstretched staff who want to do their best for the resident but are always fighting a losing battle with the clock and the limited resources with which they work. This is where confusion can turn to aggression because we simply do not give enough time for their brains to process the information and act upon it. They are not being obstructive on purpose, they just cannot understand at the pace at which we are going.

Imagine losing the ability to recognize not only your nearest and dearest but the simple everyday things of life such as the toilet, the way to your room and back again, the use of cutlery and even the fact that you have to eat at all. Imagine being told something and just simply not remembering it seconds later (and yes, we all have our 'senior moments'!), but being able to remember 40 -50 years before with a startling clarity that brings tears to the eyes of those lucky enough to hear the tales of yesteryear and bring a poor, demented soul to life as they were before they succumbed to the living Hell commonly know as dementia.

In our fast and often frantic working environments, we often forget to slow down the pace for our elderly residents. In a quiet minute try imagining what it is like in their shoes. It is confusing and lonely and scary. We are the ones who can make it different for them; we are the ones who must care.

Where Am I? Where Are My Boys?

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