The Imperfect Caregiver

Does this sound familiar?

“Dad, it’s time take a shower.”

“No.”

“Come on, really? You haven’t washed in over two weeks.”

“Not true. I took a bath yesterday.” (He didn’t, he only thinks he did.)

“How was it?”

“Wet and cold.”

“I’ll make sure the water is nice and warm. I’ll even put the towels in the dryer so they feel nice when you get out.”

“People don’t have to take a shower all the time. You think a bath is so great you take one.”

“I did. Don’t I smell nice?”

“Who cares about smell? Women smell nice. Men smell like they smell. All my life I work hard.”

“Yes, you did. And after working hard you washed yourself.”

“In the Old Country I took a bath on Saturday night. Had to be clean for church on Sunday. My mother always had the hot water ready.”

Hearing Dad talk about the Saturday night ritual in Italy as he was growing up gave me an idea.

“That’s right,” I said. “Saturday is the day to get clean for church in the morning. I forgot.”

“I remember everything. It’s a good thing I’m here,” he huffed. “I watch the news now.”

Yes, it’s a very good thing you are here,” I replied.

That evening, after helping him eat his dinner I warmed some towels, put the shower seat in place and turned on the water in the shower. Once it was nice and warm I entered Dad’s room.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“It’s Saturday. Time to get cleaned up for church tomorrow. I have the hot water ready.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t forget. My mother always said, “Cleanliness is next to Godliness.”

I helped him rise and pull his T-shirt over his head and said a silent thank you to his long deceased mother for the night before church routine she instilled in him so many years ago.

After that, whenever her needed a bath or a shower it became a Saturday in our house no matter what the calendar said. And even without going to church the next day, my prayers were answered. Dad was clean again.

Early in his time with us Dad would always take a shower and shave before seeing a doctor. Later, when he began to balk at the Saturday night ritual, I’d tell him his doctor wanted to see him in the morning. Soon after taking a shower he would forget what I’d told him and was content watching television in clean pajamas.

Another caregiver I spoke with told me about someone she cared for who had spent their entire career in the military. Being told an inspection was scheduled for the next day always inspired him to make sure his room and his person would pass muster.

Not everything I tried  worked every time. However, I really appreciated the times when something I did resulted in even a very small success.

Was there a recurring occasion or event when your family member always wanted to look his or her best? If so, please share it here. It might help you and another caregiver avoid some of the intense stress that often happens at Bath Time in Dementia Land.