(Originally submitted title ... Can Social Workers Help Caregivers
Avoid Returning to “Caregiver Prison?")
People with Alzheimer’s in need of
24/7 care and supervision are often placed in assisted living or nursing home
facilities when caregivers can no longer provide the care they need at home. My wife, Clare, has Alzheimer’s, and after
being her 24/7 caregiver for several years, when social day care programs no
longer provided me enough respite time I had to place Clare in the dementia
unit of an assisted living residence facility (ALR). She has now been living apart from me for
more than a year.
Initial benefits to me as a
caregiver
For the first six months after
placement, I came to visit Clare daily from 3-5 p.m., brought Clare to her
dining room for dinner, and I went home.
Sometimes I signed out Clare much earlier in the day to take her for
dinner and/or to enjoy recreational activities.
Whenever I took Clare out, I’d always have her back in time for her 7
p.m. activity. After those first six
months, however, Clare grew increasingly anxious from the time dinner ended
until her next activity began at 7 p.m., and she sometimes remained anxious throughout
the rest of the evening. Clare was
missing me a lot and asking when I was coming to visit, forgetting that I had
just been there hours earlier. I was
receiving evening calls at home from ALR aides asking for my help. Clare would get on the phone very upset and I
would calm her down, or return to the facility to calm her down in person.
The ALR social worker said that Clare
was increasingly requiring individualized attention from aides at these times,
but the facility was not staffed sufficiently to allow one of their aides to
spend time exclusively with one resident on a regular basis. The social worker suggested that we try an
experiment ... I would either hire an aide or stay with Clare myself between
5:45-7 p.m. when Clare was most anxious.
The hope was that if Clare was not anxious heading into her 7 p.m.
activity, she might remain calm throughout the evening. Clare’s happiness was and remains my number
one priority, so I told the social worker that I would continue visiting from
3-5 p.m. and bring Clare to dinner as I had been doing, but then I would stay
and eat a “bag supper” in an adjacent room so I could be with Clare again from
the time she finished dinner until 7 p.m.
The experiment worked and Clare’s anxiety in the evenings disappeared,
just as we had hoped. But there was an
unintended consequence for me.
Unintended consequence ...
“caregiver prison”
After visiting from 3-7 p.m. for four
months, I realized that I had re-entered “caregiver prison.” There’s no other way to describe it. I felt trapped. Adding in a half hour on each end of my visit
for travel, etc., my daily visits now took at least five hours out of my day,
seven days a week. I started resenting
those 5 hours I was giving up each day. I
also was tired of eating a “bag supper” of PB&J sandwiches and/or “fast
food” each evening. I was usually eating
a “real” supper later on that evening, and I had gained 15 pounds during those
4 months. I wasn’t sleeping well, and I was
mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted each day. Some of my closest family members and friends
suggested that I wean myself away from those four hour daily visits, but I
resisted ... until I realized that I had unintentionally re-entered “caregiver
prison.”
This was not the first time I had been
in caregiver prison. For several months
prior to her ALR placement, Clare was with me every minute of every day except
for the 20 hours each week that she spent in social day care programs. Unable to leave Clare alone unsupervised and
with her unwillingness to accept a companion or health aide in our home, I felt
like a prisoner. Wherever I was, she
was. The lessening of stress was
palpable once Clare was placed in her ALR.
I had my freedom back. I had my
privacy back. But I let myself get
lulled into forfeiting that freedom and privacy six months later by agreeing to
increase my daily visit time from 2 to 4 hours.
I made the decision to try another
experiment. I decided not to arrive anymore
at 3 p.m., unless I was taking Clare out that afternoon. Instead, I would not arrive until Clare
finished her dinner, hoping that she would not even realize that I was arriving
later than before. I would then visit with
her until the 7 p.m. activity began.
My experiment worked. Clare was enjoying spending that 3-5 p.m.
time slot in activities with her group, totally enjoying her time with me after
dinner, and hardly missing me at all after I left each evening at 7 p.m. This new experiment was a win-win ... Clare
was enjoying her evening activities without daily anxiety, and I was no longer
feeling as if I were in caregiver prison.
I cannot fault the ALR social worker
for not suggesting this modification earlier.
To her credit, the social worker did speak with me several times to review
how things were going, and each time I said that all was well. I never once shared that whereas the
experiment seemed to be working wonderfully for reducing Clare’s daily anxiety,
it was increasing my daily stress and anxiety.
The ALR social worker had no way of knowing how physically, mentally,
and emotionally drained I was each evening.
She had no idea of how poorly I was sleeping and eating.
Had the ALR social worker known about
these unintended consequences, I am confident that she would have intervened
earlier to suggest a modification to that first experiment. In fact, the same week I decided to cut back
and notified the social worker to that effect, I was told that she was going to
actually suggest a similar cutback in hours to me.
Can institutional social workers
help prevent caregiver prison?
Is there a way for social workers in
institutional settings to be more alert to possible unintended consequences to
caregivers of their residents? Should
social workers consider ways to elicit personal information from former
caregivers of their dementia residents when major changes are made in
routines? Social workers in
institutional settings cannot possibly establish close personal relationships with
caregivers that develop naturally in other settings, such as in weekly support
groups. If I had still been attending
weekly meetings in a spouse support group, I would have shared personal
information about the negative effects those longer visits were having on my
health and stress level. I am sure that
the support group social worker would have suggested that it was time to modify
that experiment.
In a caregiver support group,
caregiver needs are the main focus of the social worker. But in an institutional setting for people
with Alzheimer’s, the social worker’s focus is on the needs of the resident
with Alzheimer’s. And that is how it
should be. But, perhaps, some brief questionnaire
or other process can elicit helpful personal information to evaluate effects on
caregivers when there are major changes made with resident-caregiver
interactions. Of course, any such questionnaire
or process is still dependent upon the caregiver feeling comfortable enough to
share such personal information. Had I
been asked if the additional daily visit hours were causing me greater anxiety,
or causing disruptions in sleeping or eating patterns, I might have volunteered
that information. Or, truthfully, I may
not have been honest enough to share that information.
But this might be a matter worthy of further
consideration. A case can be made that ALR
social workers already have enough on their plate dealing with their caseloads
of dementia residents and regular residents without adding more time-consuming
responsibilities dealing with the former full-time caregivers of their dementia
residents. However, if social workers
can come up with a process that can elicit helpful information and does not
require too much additional time, that could help social workers prevent some former
caregivers from returning to caregiver prison.
Published in Annals of Long Term Care, Vol. 22, no. 10, October, 2014 online only. Access at: www.annalsoflongtermcare.com/article/breaking-free-caregiver-prison-can-assisted-living-social-workers-help.