Skip to main content

Allow Me To Help You To Help Me

My ire's been up as of late. My frustration level has been like an overheating radiator on a limping jalopy. Bubbling at the lip, then shooting geyser-like, when one more frustration piles on top.

More and more, I'm losing energy and my ability to speak. At the same time, my best, most intuitive caregivers are leaving, taking with them, valuable tribal knowledge about my care. Knowledge, that I desperately need them to pass on to the people left behind.

Currently, I'm being taxed of my energy because many of my caregivers believe they can just pepper me with questions as they go. Once upon a time, that worked. I can assure you, those days are passed. I need my caregivers to perform like a NASCAR pit crew. Knowing what they need to do and do it quickly and efficiently.

Overshadowing all else, should be the need to preserve my airway and to keep me breathing as comfortably as possible. They must understand that my disease is robbing me of all muscle function, including my diaphragm. When I'm flat on my back, it's like I have a 50-llb weight sitting atop my chest. Breathing is labored but they may not notice. Later in the day and in the evening, it's worse with a seeming 75-lb weight atop my chest. Time on my back MUST be limited. Don't ask if I need to have my head elevated, boost me to the top of the bed, place the neck pillow under my neck, then elevate the head of the bed. If I'm in distress, immediately, roll me completely on my side. Partial turns compress my diaphragm, forcing air out of my lungs (suffocating me).

Please note: the neck pillow, when properly placed at the base of my skull, is an excellent tool to preserve my airway. When improperly placed, it causes neck strain. When not moved with me during changes, it poses an obstacle, wrenching my neck muscles and/or blocking my airway.

Extraneous noise must be minimized. I cannot be relied upon to be able to project my voice loud enough to be heard. Turn off the television or iPad. And consider closing the door to minimize hallway distractions and noise. Also, I don't think  "tapping out" caregivers is appropriate. It's disruptive and takes the focus off of me, the patient, during care. Furthermore I've tried to get my caregiver's attention at some of those moments to no avail. They can't hear me over their own discussion.

More about communication: Ask me relevant yes or no questions to help me conserve my energy. Stating a problem, then asking me what to do about it, is not helpful. Critical thinking to solve the problem is a better option or posing yes or no questions to solve the problem. If it's necessary to get a quick answer without the Tobii, try using the alpha-board (hanging on the Tobii). Nobody ever has. To my knowledge, my caregivers have yet to be informed or trained on it's use.

About the Tobii, some of my caregivers don't know what it is. I can say, Tobii, but I cannot explain what it is nor can I point at it. Dare I say, caregivers for dealing with persons with ALS should be aware of our specialized Needs, specifically, our means of communication. It is in the best interests of caregivers of persons with ALS (or PALS) to learn basic Tobii operations and how eyegaze works along with troubleshooting.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Kate

I think about my friend, Kate Struby, who died from this horrible disease in 2013. She lived here at Bailey Boushay House before I did. I reached out to Kate online through FaceBook because I loved her photograph with her head thrown back in laughter. I also loved her posts. I guess I just loved her spirit. I got to finally meet her one month before she died. I happened to be at the University of Washington Medical Center for my quarterly appointment when I saw her FaceBook post. She was awake and in the medical ICU. She was a mere few floors down. I would not be stopped. Relativeor no, I would meet my FaceBook friend. Thank God I did. I rolled into the room to find a beautiful, ethere.al woman flanked by two friends. Although it was an impromtu visit, she said she knew me immediately.I was in awe of her with her fiery spirit despite the ravages of our shared disease. She, unable to lift even a finger, lifted my spirit.

Immersion Therapy

Please excuse my selfish absence from posting to my blog. I wish I could say that I've been out diligently finding a cure for ALS, or tirelessly working to fund research, or hunger-striking to bring public attention to beacon the cruelty of not having access to care facilities geared specifically to the specialized needs of the ALS patient. Alas, I have been binge-watching Scandel, The 100, and binge-listening to audiobooks. I'm currently enamored of mystery and thrillers by Chelsea Cain and Lisa Unger. I cannot do a Helluva lot these days but I can still waste time. ALS ought to have some perks. I can immerse myself in completely in entirely new situations, raise my excitement level and learn something new to me.

Tuesday

Tuesday is shaping up to be my best day of the week. Every day holds the requisite eating, changing, television, and napping. But Tuesday, I got a glorious, hot bath in a handicap-accessible bathtub with my Angela and Lisa, reorganized my shower caddy with my Lisa, read "The White Album" by Joan Didion with my Lindsey, "supervised" doughnut-making and sampled same with my Sandra among others, and listened to Ryan Feng play classical piano. A new book fell into my lap today. Of course, I mean that figuratively. "Play It As It Lays" by Joan Didion was just laying on top of the informal Bailey Boushay House library cart, so I borrowed it. .Guess what we'll be reading? I feel very blessed!