In Our Own Words will convey the true stories and real life experiences of home attendants who have graduated from the 45-hour Dementia Home Care Training course.

Ms. Nicole C. Jackson, a March 2007 graduate, shared this story with
Nancy Lee Hendley, Dementia Care Trainer.

As I was coming out of the clinic at Bellevue hospital, I saw a lady in a wheelchair sitting with her aide. I heard the lady loudly screaming “Agua, agua, agua!”(Water, water, water.) At first I passed her by. I don’t like to get into anyone’s business. I don’t want to get into trouble with people. Before the 45-hour training, believe me, I would not have gotten involved—especially if I saw that a person already had an aide. But since I had taken the 45-hour dementia care training, I thought if I don’t help her, it is like I will have wasted everybody’s time. I changed my mind, turned around and approached the woman. I asked her aide,“Why don’t you give the lady some water?” The aide responded “No, she doesn’t need any water.” I asked her, “If she doesn’t want water,why is she asking for it?” The aide repeated with frustration in her voice, “She doesn’t need any water.”

Ms. Nicole C. Jackson

I observed the woman closely, trying to figure out why she was in distress. Having worked with people with Alzheimer’s, I knew that something was causing this woman’s agitation. I saw that her white socks, like those for diabetics,were puffed up. The water was leaking from her diaper.

I asked the aide to tell me the woman’s name. She said,“Mary.” I remembered what I learned in the 45-hour training. We learned to get to eye level or lower than the person so that they will feel comfortable and in control. I made myself very small. (Bending my knees to get to her level was very difficult; I am not as young as I used to be. But I did it.)

I bent down and said, “Ms. Mary.” I watched the expression on her face. She did not respond to me but she continued, “Agua, agua.” I thought to myself if she is calling agua, she cannot be named Mary, she must be Maria. I said, “Ms. Maria.”

She looked at me directly and, for the first time since I saw her that day, she stopped shouting. I asked the aide, “Does she have someone close to her?” The aide replied that she has a daughter. I continued,“Maria, your daughter has asked me to change your diaper.” When I mentioned her daughter, Ms. Maria reached out her hand to me. She shifted in the chair like she wanted to get up. Her hand was in my hand.

She looked at me directly and, for the first time since I saw her that day, she stopped shouting. I asked the aide, “Does she have someone close to her?” The aide replied that she has a daughter. I continued,“Maria, your daughter has asked me to change your diaper.” When I mentioned her daughter, Ms. Maria reached out her hand to me. She shifted in the chair like she wanted to get up. Her hand was in my hand.

As we walked back to the lobby, the aide asked me, “Where did you get that trick?” I explained to her that what she observed was more of a technique than a trick. I asked her if she ever heard of the Alzheimer’s Association. I told her that I learned these techniques from Ms. Hendley, my dementia care trainer at the NYC Chapter. I let her know that there is a lot of good information at the Alzheimer’s Association. If it wasn’t for the Alzheimers Association and this training, I would not have gotten involved. Ms.Maria might not have been able to have her needs met. As I was leaving the clinic, (there is a long hallway) I turned around. Ms. Maria kept waving at me. I waved until I could no longer see her.

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