What happens when care partners do not get proper training to support someone living with dementia?

Why are we surprised when staff members become burned out and label unmet needs by making assumptions and not doing an assessment?

Can you think of a time when you had to deal with a responsible behavior and didn't know what to do?

If you could learn how to become more skillful and competent, would you invest in training that teaches you the art of thoughtfully responding to these moments instead of reacting?

Teepa Snow, one of the world's foremost experts in Dementia Care, has developed an intensive, ground-breaking, six-hour course to help you start mastering the art of responding, not reacting! You will learn the skills to become a care partner instead of a care giver, as you support the Person Living with Dementia (PLwD) use the skills they still have while substituting your skill for what has been lost. 

Lois was a quiet woman who often sat in an easy

chair just outside of our song circle. I always invited her to join us, but she would almost always decline. As the singing started I would keep an eye on her to see if there were any songs that she seemed to particularly enjoy. One day I saw her ever so quietly mouth some words to a gospel song. Without making too much of it, because I didn't want to embarrass her or scare her off, I softly commented that she seemed to like that song. I told her, "I would love to have you sing it with us." She replied, "Oh no, I don't sing. My husband told me a long time ago that I was not a good singer and that I shouldn't sing."

Lois' husband had been gone for many years. Lois has dementia and has difficulty remembering many things. But she remembers she is not supposed to sing. Even though her husband is not here to remind her - she continues to believe this.

Gregory, my husband of over 41 years, was  diagnosed with dementia, most likely Alzheimers, in the 29th year of our relationship. He was 55 years old. We walked the Dementia/Alzheimers path together for twelve years. He was not a victim of Alzheimers ... but rather a hero. I might add that we lived as well as possible with dementia, refusing to accept the diagnosis as a "death sentence." Also, I never referred to it as his diagnosis but rather our diagnosis. 

In some ways, we were relieved when we received the diagnosis because now we had an idea of what we were dealing with; although at the time we did not really understand the nature of the roller coaster ride we would be on for the next twelve years.

My mother, Susan, was diagnosed with Lewy Body Dementia in 2016, and I have the honor of being her care partner. This has, by far, been the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life. My mother has always been a force to be reckoned with. After surviving 19 years at the cruel, abusive hands of my father, she climbed her way to a six-figure salary with the IRS before she was forced to retire. So, watching my mother, the person I knew could get through anything, lose pieces of herself, is a heartbreak I've never known.