(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9fEYscYW0HY)

Let’s try something instead of assuming that activities and engagement “just won’t happen” with someone who has dementia

10 products under $10 for people with dementia

A visitor to my Facebook page recently wrote in and asked me a question about this. She was told by her Executive Director to please put a list together of inexpensive activity and programming ideas that they could implement immediately.

1. Plastic box of dollar store, baby socks/child socks. Residents can fold and organize the socks.

2. Plastic box of dollar store cups and artificial flowers for residents to arrange.

3. Big puzzles because the pieces are big and easy to hold but the puzzles aren’t childish.

4. Plastic box of clothes pins. Residents can clip the clothes pins to the outside of the box. It’s simple, but great for dexterity and people who have trouble with much else.

5. Lace and trace kit for residents who are accustomed to sewing

6. Plastic box of dollar store towels to fold and sort

7. Acrylic paints and paintbrushes for residents to create art

8. Mind-Start’s Finishing Lines is wonderful and I’ve had a lot of success with it.

9. Mind-Start’s Finishing Lyrics is also wonderful. The activity staff can read the lyrics and the residents can fill in the blanks.

10. Adult coloring book & markers for residents who enjoy art

These are a few of my favorite things...for dementia caregivers!

Block & Pattern Boards

Coloring Books

Finishing Lyrics

Big-Piece Puzzles

Lace & Trace Kits

A new way to keep residents safe

The first “bookshelf door” went so well at my dementia care community that I bought another one! This was the first one I ordered off of Amazon (see link here) so I was a little worried that it wouldn’t be as good as the one that local students made for us.

I am happy to say that it looks great, particularly for a window sticker that was super easy to install and only costed about $40, including shipping.

I installed this one yesterday and it worked immediately. One of my residents, Teresa, is “notorious” for going through the exit doors. I watched her walk up to it, look at it, and turn back around a number of times. 

My community is considered “secure” but not “locked.” In many places, there is a distinction between locked and secured communities when it comes to state regulations and rules. In my community, the doors leading to Assisted Living are not locked, so we need to use other options to deter residents from walking through them.

Because we cannot actually put something in front of the door (this would be considered a violation of fire code) these door stickers work wonders. Many of my residents perceive them as an actual bookshelf, or at least as something that is not a door.

Artwork done by my residents with dementia

Unreasonably excited about our brand new red bowls and plates for our residents! The color stands out from the food and encourages eating.

An awesome work in progress at my dementia care community! People with dementia don't go through doors that look like they aren't doors, and that's exactly what we are working on here. I had a local technical high school print a vinyl decal that looks like a bookshelf. They came in today and helped apply it to one of our doors. The door still opens, of course, but our residents won't be trying to go in and out of it nearly as often (at least, that's the goal!) I'm finishing it later this week by heat-drying it and getting the bubbles out.

“She has heels on.”

Lois is very active at the community. She is generally very excitable, very happy, and very sociable. She does, however, get anxious easily.

Lois enjoys listening to music, dancing, and walking down the hallway, hand-in-hand with her newfound friends, who are also residents at the community. 

“Hey, sweetie pie!” she asks frequently. “When’s my daughter coming here?” 

Lois is usually looking for her daughter, even if her daughter is there with us. 

Yesterday, as we were getting residents together for a painting activity, I asked Lois if she wanted to join. Lois will sit down for a little while, but mostly likes to be up, moving around. She seems to get anxious and get up quickly unless she’s occupied with eating or talking to a table partner.

I handed Lois a paintbrush, some paint, and a thick piece of paper. She did not seem interested in painting, at least not without some encouragement. 

“Lois, can you paint me something?” I asked, putting the brush in her hand and helping her dip it in paint.

Suddenly, Lois refocused, putting her brush on the paper. She began drawing a head, and I watched with delight as she added two eyes and a smile.

Lois was calm and focused. She was no longer asking where anyone was, nor was she up, walking down the hall. Lois was invested in this painting.

“She needs shoes,” Lois said of her painting. She took her time adding “shoes” to the woman’s feet. 

“Look,” Lois said. “She’s wearing high heels.”

Shadowbox

I started a new project at work that I am really excited about.

We purchased 30 shadowboxes (those frames that allow for you to add trinkets, along with photos) for outside our residents’ doors. In the past, I’ve really disliked making shadowboxes. Other companies I’ve worked for have had stipulations about what kinds of things can go in the box. This time, though, it was up to me. 

I began asking residents’ family members to bring in old photos of their residents from when they were in their teens or twenties. As the photos began coming in, I played “guess who” games with my staff. “Guess who this is?” i asked, holding up one photo at a time. It’s fun, but it is also humanizing. Sometimes, in the midst of dealing with difficult dementia-related behaviors, it is easy to forget that our residents have lived full, long lives—that they are people with histories, past loves, and amazing experiences.

Many of my residents do not know that they are older adults. Because they think that they are young, they recognize youthful photos of themselves. It helps them to find their rooms. too.

The staff members love it, too. They squeal with delight over the old photos of their residents. “Look! Mary! Aren’t you beautiful in this picture?” they cry when new photos come in.

One of my residents, Lula, saw her 21-year-old self staring back from her shadowbox.

“Wow!” she yelled with excitement. “I was a KNOCKOUT!”

Below: A photo of my grandparents from their honeymoon. I miss them very much.

The Artist

Despite my experience working in dementia care, I still make mistakes sometimes. I have learned from them, though, and I tend not to make them again. 

I once asked a woman what she “used to do” for a living. She turned to me, confused. “Well, I’m still a nurse!” she exclaimed, surprised that I would insinuate that she was no longer working. Of course, this woman with dementia, in her 90s, was no longer working as a nurse—but I had confused my reality with her reality.

“Of course,” I said, quickly recovering. “That’s what I meant.”

I don’t make that mistake anymore. Instead, I let them tell me that they are no longer working.

“What do you do for a living?” you may ask. “Oh, I’m not working anymore, I’m 85!” some people with dementia will, correctly, tell you.

The painting below was done by a resident of mine, Ella. Ella has been an artist her whole life. She went to school for art, she worked as a painter, and it clearly shows.

“What do you want me to paint?” she asked me yesterday.

“How about a tree, since it’s fall?” I smiled back.

“Sure,” she shrugged, and I walked away, letting the activity director continue supervising the painting activity.

I came back an hour later to find this sitting on the table.

Active Minds

Active Minds (http://www.active-minds.co.uk/) was gracious enough to send me one of their products to try out and review. Active Minds makes great products and kits for people with dementia. The product they sent me was their “Aquapaint: Everyday” kit, which allows people with dementia the chance to “paint” on a canvas that shows up as it gets wet. 

The kit comes with five images, all of which look like blank canvases before they are “painted”. The thing that I liked immediately was this was a very safe activity for my residents with dementia. There is always a concern with leaving toxic paint out with my residents, just in case a resident tries to drink it. (While this is unlikely, it would not be the first time a person with dementia has ingested something they shouldn’t have eaten.) These canvases only required water to work. 

The other thing that I liked was that my residents could paint these images time and time again. As the picture began to dry, it started to evaporate. 

I was able to gather five of my residents and we worked with my activity director to try the kit out. She was able to assist one of our residents by holding her water cup and showing her how to use the paintbrush.

As the images began to appear, my residents looked excited. They talked about the images in front of them: a dog, a woman’s face, a kitchen scene, a basket of fruit, and a shaving kit. 

The more water that the canvas received, the better the image showed up. The kit allowed my residents who would normally struggle with an art project to create something beautiful with ease.

I appreciated the fact that the images were not childish. They were all artistic and creative—they weren’t things that you would find in a child’s room. One of my biggest pet peeves with dementia care is when you find childish pictures, puzzles, or projects in a dementia community. They have no place there.

“Wow, I want to do this with our residents every day,” one of my aides said as she helped a resident with her project.

Artwork by my residents. The tree was already on the canvas, but the residents use Q-Tips to decorate the tree.

My residents all have varying forms and degrees of dementia. This is what I got when we gave some of our residents paint, paintbrushes, and a canvas. “Paint whatever you want.”