The Care Manager becomes a Caregiver

Posted on June 23rd, 2011

Categories: Aging Advocacy, Dementia

On May 13 my world changed.  It was a change I thought might be occurring.  It was a change I had been researching.  It was a change that I desperately did not want.  On May 13, my husband was diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia or FTD.  With those words, the care manager became a caregiver.

The journey has been difficult to date, but nothing compared to what lies ahead.  In 2009 my husband was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism.  He had lost around 25 pounds and was demonstrating symptoms of depression.  But being a salesman in the current economy was a daily exercise in frustration to say the least, so I thought I understood.  His symptoms were treated but only the thyroid tests showed significant improvement.  The depression lingered, and none of the usual medications seemed to help.

There was one symptom that made me quite curious.  My husband declined to help with our finances.  I would ask him questions about unusual bills or investment decisions that needed to be made, but he said he didn’t understand how I was handling our money.  After several attempts to explain my way, I asked him to lay out our monthly payments in a way he understood, and we would talk from his perspective.  He never quite got around to doing that.

In the meantime, our loving bond seemed to be strained and sometimes felt non-existent.  What in the world was happening???  Was our marriage in trouble?  My husband showed little interest in planning anything whether it was a trip to the grocery store or a trip to Mexico.  Something was really wrong.  Where should I look to find more answers?

Since we had covered the possible physical ailments, I decided it was time to take a look at his emotional and cognitive well-being.  I asked his doctor for an order for neuropsychological testing.  I half expected him to decline my request; instead he gave the order to me without hesitation.  The test results indicated some depression and some deficit in the executive functioning area of the brain – the frontal lobe.  Fear set in.  This must be a mistake.  Surely not MY husband!

From there we visited a neurologist who ordered an MRI.  The results were normal for my husband’s age – but we expected this outcome.  Then the doctor asked if we wanted to have a PET scan: a high-tech imaging test that looks at the brain differently than an MRI and is more accurate in diagnosing FTD.  We said yes; and the scan said yes.  Degeneration of the frontal lobe, and some left temporal lobe as well as some right temporal lobe degeneration.  Frontotemporal dementia.

Since May 13th, we have attended more doctors’ appointments, adjusted to changes in medication, applied for Social Security Disability Income (SSDI) and quit his job, completed a driving assessment (he passed with restrictions), are very thankful we had decided to buy long term care insurance, and are now living as normal as possible until the disease changes our lives completely.

I will continue my work as a geriatric care manager, but I am closing down both my blog and my podcast session with Kevyn Burger.  Both decisions sadden me deeply, but I know I want as much time to be with my husband as I can find.  Every minute of every day that I know he is in our home with me makes me happy.  I feel his presence even when he’s sitting on the deck reading or vacuuming the rugs or taking a nap.  I want to imprint these moments in my mind.

Thank you for being loyal followers.



Podcast: Is the Barometric Pressure Aching Your Bones?

Posted on November 4th, 2010

Categories: Caring For Elderly, Podcasts, depression

It has been a wild, weird weather week even by Minnesota standards. With the extremely low barometric pressure, the elderly and even Deborah and Kevyn, have experienced aches and pains. Deborah Dolan, Advocate on Aging and Kevyn Burger, host of the show, discuss how the winter can effect the elderly causing aches and pains, feelings of depression and even SADness (Seasonal-Affective Disorder).



Welcome to Autumn – Hopefully it’s not a SAD time of year.

Posted on October 6th, 2010

Categories: Active Senior Living, Caring For Elderly, depression

Now that fall is officially here, take advantage of the beautiful colors and cooler temperatures before winter by spending time outdoors walking, biking, or even taking a trip to the local orchard.

As the days continue to shorten, make sure to help your body adjust to the change in sunlight. Adequate sunlight is an essential part of the chemical process that helps our bodies produce vitamin D.  Lack of sunlight can cause Seasonal-Affective Disorder (SAD), which usually appears during the colder months of fall and winter when there is less exposure to sunlight during the day. Symptoms can include fatigue, lack of interest in normal activities, craving foods high in carbohydrates, social withdrawal and weight gain. Depression symptoms are usually mild to moderate, but they can become severe.

How can you protect yourself against SAD? Try to spend time outside whenever possible to expose yourself to natural sunlight. If it’s too cold to be outdoors, try arranging your home or office so that you are exposed to a window during the day. However, if you feel the depression is becoming severe, consult a doctor immediately. With the right course of treatment, SAD can be a manageable condition.

For more information on SAD and available resources, take a look at the Mayo Clinic’s website.



Advocacy is keeping the puzzle intact…

Posted on March 30th, 2010

Categories: Aging Advocacy, Caring For Elderly, Hospitalization

I think of my role as advocate as the person who takes all the pieces of my client’s healthcare jigsaw puzzle and makes sure they fit together to create a cohesive and complete picture.  With so many health issues and sometimes so many physicians and caregivers involved, the pieces become scrambled, and it’s my job to put them back together.

Example:

Recently a client went to the hospital due to a fall.  After determining there were no broken bones or lacerations, the central concerns became her balance (since she’s complaining of being dizzy) and the neuropathy in her feet.  A hospitalist, a wonderful doctor with a compassionate bedside manner, sees my client for 10 minutes each of the next three days she is hospitalized – as an inpatient I might add.  Following the issue at hand, he looks for ways to decrease her falling risk, and something he can do immediately is “adjust” my client’s medication.

So the hospitalist takes away one of her blood pressure medications, adds on another drug to help with the neuropathy (although admits that one of the side effects is dizziness), and for some unknown reason, cuts her depression medication in half.  Three days later when this lovely ady arrives at transitional care, she is crying, upset and refusing therapy.  Thirty minutes with a doctor has just undone years of seeking a delicate balance of high blood pressure and depression.

My job as her advocate is to begin unraveling why her medications were changed, which changes do we keep and which do we undo.  Remember I’m non-medical; but my role requires me to become educated about the medications involved and then be willing to ask the questions of her medical caregivers to return the puzzle to a cohesive and complete picture.