While working out on the elliptical at the Y, my attention is drawn for a moment to an elder woman and her companion, a very old man, half bent over whom she is assisting with the various machines. She leaves him alone briefly, and while she is gone, the man takes it upon himself to stand up and make his way towards the sitting area. It’s a bit scary watching him, as he tries to pull himself up and more than once, titters on the brink of falling. He makes it though, and gets reprimanded by his wife for not listening and not waiting for her. She is stressed, you can tell, and she is concerned about his safety. Suddenly, the old man has shrunk even further, back to being a five year old being scolded by his stern mother.
It’s not easy being a caregiver. It’s not easy being old and disabled. There’s got to be a better way . . .
This kind of situation always raises an ethical question. What is more important? Keeping the person safe at all costs? Or honoring his still preserved abilities, no matter how tenuous, even at the risk of a fall? I work with both caregivers and persons with various levels of disabilities, including dementia. And I get to hear both sides.
