Years ago I sat in a very small apartment. I sat with an elderly woman. A doctor. And his nurse. I was fairly new to my job of investigating abuses against the elderly.
She was tiny. Grey. Beautiful smile. And very nervous. She looked around, from one of us to the other. Always smiling.
For the most part, for this part of her life, she was alone. She had family. And they cared. But they lived far away. And she wasn’t herself any longer. Not the confident, capable and understanding mom, sister and aunt they always knew. She was confused, unaware and mostly lost.
How we got to this point I don’t remember. Other than the doctor was there and I was a witness to some cognitive testing. The first time I had ever witnessed it. Part of it being the “clock test”.
I watched her. The doctor gave her a piece of paper and kindly asked her to draw a clock. She looked at the paper as he handed her a pen. She looked back at him. She told him she didn’t understand. It was painful, for me, to watch. As the minutes ticked by he described to her numerous times on what he wanted her to do. He remained patient and calm with her. He told her to draw the face of a clock. In different ways he tried to prod her memory to what a clock was.
At one point she drew a shape. Part of it was round at the bottom but the top of it came to a funny shape. Almost like that of the top of a triangle sitting on top of a box when roughly drawing the shape of a house as a five year old.
I looked away. I felt intrusive. I felt frustrated and ashamed of myself for watching her struggle and her suffering. I looked back when I heard the scritch of pen on paper and saw her draw a line on the outside of the shape. A line to nothing.
Her apartment was at the front of the building. Above the main entrance to her building. Over looking the parking lot. I watched the lot as a car approached and pulled into that lot. It was probably only seconds as I waited for that person to exit. I knew that would happen. I could count on it. I focused on that person instead of what was going on in this room. The person in the car had turned around after exiting, and leaned back in to the car. There was nothing of interest to watching this person. But it felt less cruel to watch the car person than the little lady with the paper not drawing a clock. Finally after what felt like hours, the person slowly backed out of the car and without hurry took to getting their things. They stood up straight, once fully out of the car they had backed back out of. I saw them reach for the door to close it. I saw it. And as I heard the car door slam, I immediately looked at the clock. The clock that was hanging on the wall, in front of us all.
I turned to look at the paper.
At the clock that wasn’t there.
The clock that wasn’t there was ticking by with the loss of her ability. The loss of her character. The loss of who she was. The ticking stole with it’s every click a little bit more of her grasp on what her world was. Who she was.
I hate the clock test.
And what time steals from some people.
It’s horrible.
Such a timely, eloquent, and beautifully written post, Colleen. Many thanks.
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Thank you Ann. 🙂
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Yes. It’s horrible and hard to watch. And hard to imagine what they feel
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I’ve seen it done since then…. and it’s just as horrible. That first time …. I will never forget.
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A beautiful telling of a tragic story, Colleen.
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Thank you Ray. I think of her sometimes…
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Of course you would. It’s part of being a caregiver. I replay all the ambulance calls I worked as I pass the houses and intersections. It’s our nature and a mixed blessing
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I have spent many years going to people’s homes. Like you….I pass them and think of the people and their lives that I interloped into….
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My memories are more about scenes of accidents, especially kids who got hit by cars… wrote about that back in April on the undertaker blog… put “A somber memory” in the search box… if you are so inclined
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Ray as soon as I read your comment I remembered the post, but I went back and read it again. Made me think of many APS customers I met through horrible situations. Not all of my APS encounters were horrible, but the nature of the job meant many were. Your somber memory is touching. Being remembered is a gift.
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So painful, the march of time, MBC.
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It isn’t an easy march is it MBM?
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Not so much, my friend.
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loss of self is one of the things I fear. Let me age gracefully with my brain sharp – and then zap = take me,
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I have prayed that myself NotDonner. Thank you.
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Thank you for the telling Colleen. A tragic scene that so many of us nowadays have to confront, and deal with.
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It’s something that I fear Peter.
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Beautifully told. ❤
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Thank you Paulette.
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It truly is sad what time steals from people. Touching story, Colleen.
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Time is a thief for sure Priceless.
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So beautiful and sad. You are so compassionate, Colleen. I watched my mother try to do this same task and it was heartbreaking-
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Oh Beth I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t want my child to see me do that.
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Very tragic outcome of this story, Colleen. Those tests are needed, I know, but how I would wish, they were not.
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I’m with you Irene.
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this is a depressing and very sad story when you must watch the abilities of a human being dwindle. The mind is no longer involved. In such situations, I wishes only that the woman herself is not so conscious of how incapable she has become. Maybe you should just spare her such test?
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I wish these tests could be spared Grumpyowl. Sadly, we all have certain rights, but when you can’t understand the things you need to understand to live safely, someone has to protect you from what you no longer can do. It’s a heartbreaking necessity.
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Oh this is a new view for me, I did not recognize before. Of course, you are right!
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I wish none of us needed these tests either. I agree with you on that. Sadly….we do. I hope for a cure or treatment!!
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cure and Treatment would be great!
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Amen Anie!
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sigh….
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Amen….
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It is cruel. I have witnessed and administered that test. The only blessing is that eventually we slide beyond the stress of forgetting and just live in the moment. My Mom would show me the delight in every small thing, like the pleasure in eating a Boston Cream donut and enjoying a bit of lively music. A gift to the memory keepers.
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The memory keepers are so important. I’ve seen, I think, every form of dementia that can possibly be. It is a wicked thing…never predictable….always a thief (as someone else said).
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I had not heard of this test. It is hard getting old and watching someone else struggle is painful.
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It’s so difficult BCM. At that point in my career I had heard of it often. But never actually seen it performed. It was traumatic, for her, and to a different degree…me.
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A beautifully written post, but sad as we’re currently going through this with a sibling. 😦
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I’m so sorry Kathy.
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Thanks.
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May medical advances soon make such tests unnecessary. Thank you for the powerful reminder of what some are going through in life; a reminder to be grateful for all the blessings we have.
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From your pen to God’s eyes. And all of the researches doing this important work.
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So sad…
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The simple truth of it Livingalifeunclear.
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Oh Colleen, I so know that feeling of helplessness, while watching/not trying to notice while they’re doing some sort of “Clock Test”, I know when Carole first got MS, and it came upon her quickly, the Doctor was there in our bedroom, asking her “those” questions, “Add up 2+2, what year is it, and tell me the time on THE CLOCK”, and there I was in the room, so wishing and wanting her to give the right answers, and she couldn’t do it……. and hiding behind the Doctor I cried, and they were different tears, not like the ones I’d ever cried before, but unfortunately I came to know them too well………
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Oh Ivor…..you know first hand the truths of this. It was so hard for me to watch. I cannot imagine how you felt. I just can’t. I’m sorry you and Carole had to deal with that as well.
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I like that you understand……………… again xx
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I will say my Mom couldn’t probably tell you answers to dates or who the President is. She may draw a circle for a clock. But I can say she is still confident and not embarrassed about her forgetfulness either. She shrugs her shoulders and says, “Que sera sera!” Whatever will be will be. . . I wish more people were able to take their decline so unabashedly. 🙂 I pray I will not care or worry but be in the moment. Company, yay! Tests, oh well! 😊 Hahaha 😀
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I love that your mother has her confidence. Dementia can not only rob memories, but personalities….that must be so difficult for some.
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You’re so right, Colleen. Once a lot of memory leaves or fades, the person seems to lose their personality. They are like blank slates or ghosts of the persons they once were.
The staff says she has “spunk” and told off another resident who complained about a young staff member’s “afro” and Mom said “mind your own business, it’s not like you have the best hairstyle.” (Kind of rude, but they were chuckling about it in the office telling my youngest daughter Felicia and me.)
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I can’t help it, I laughed at your mother’s remark. 🙂 I like her defending someone.
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The staff said this same thing which indicates their open mindedness, too. They could have thought the woman was ok to say what she did. So glad they didn’t! It is quite amusing sometimes, or embarrassing. It all depends on what the subject matter is. . . Thanks for smiling “with” us. 😀
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🙂
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This reminds me of my grandfather. He is 89,alert, & stubborn, but he has outlived many loved ones – including my grandmother.
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It’s so sad that we can all relate. I hope there is a cure soon.
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