In the vast and long corridors of the hospital ward, countless unique and worth-listening stories unfold every day. However, in the general medical ward of Changde Second People’s Hospital, there is a group of special patients who seem somewhat out of place in their surroundings. Every day feels like being in a special “battle” with the lovely yet helpless elderly dementia patients as the opponents. Next, let us board the narrative care express and enter the inner world of the dementia patients.
On the Dragon Boat Festival on June 10th, I was on the night shift as usual. At 4 a.m., after patrolling the ward, perhaps the festive atmosphere allowed the patients to relax, and everyone had entered into a sweet dream, making the ward exceptionally quiet. Aside from the sound of the ventilator operating in the resuscitation room, faint sounds of one’s own gastrointestinal movements could also be heard.
“Bang, bang, bang…” Suddenly, the sound of knocking on the bed rail echoed from the resuscitation room, and I knew that it was “Ping-Pong Athlete” Grandpa Tan starting his “warm-up” exercises again.
Grandpa Tan is our “old friend”, suffering from senile dementia and Parkinson’s disease for many years. His “nimble steps” are mesmerizing, harboring a sports dream deep inside him, dreaming of participating in a marathon one day. Whenever we see his shaky yet determined steps, we can’t help but feel both distressed and admiring for him.
He is very willful, often secretly slipping away on a wheelchair when no one is watching, only to return holding a big watermelon. Trembling hands would earnestly hand the watermelon to us, with a childlike innocent smile on his face, melting our hearts instantly. However, not long after being discharged, came the grim news that Grandpa Tan had fallen.
The fall resulting in a fracture confined him to bed for a long time, breaching various defense lines of his body. Severe respiratory failure led to pulmonary encephalopathy, necessitating the use of a breathing machine mask. This cold machine in his “demented” world felt like a dreadful monster to him, and his trembling hands constantly resisted this unfamiliar threat. In order to help him coexist harmoniously with the breathing machine, we had to resort to protective constraints. These added restraints made him feel more fearful, angry, and uneasy. He would try to resist, struggling against the constraints, but his feeble strength seemed so insignificant compared to the constraints, and he began to act unusually restless, pulling and banging on the bed rails countless times.
Understanding the fear in Grandpa Tan’s heart softened my own heart greatly. I would repeatedly lean down to Grandpa Tan’s ear, gently holding his hand, and ask softly, “Grandpa, how do you feel today?” Grandpa Tan’s eyes appeared confused, trying hard to move his lips, trembling slightly, saying, “I… want…to go home.” He attempted to free himself from the restraints. Patiently comforting him, I said, “Grandpa, you see, we and your family will always be here with you. These restraints are for your safety.” The old man seemed not to understand, just kept struggling, mumbling, “I… want… to go…”
I patiently listened and pieced together Grandpa Tan’s fragmented words, softly reassuring him, “Grandpa, didn’t you want to participate in a marathon? Practice your ‘table tennis skills’ with this paddle first, and once you’re better, we’ll come and watch you compete, to win the championship!” At that moment, Grandpa’s eyes lit up, a hint of a smile on his face, albeit brief. I felt like I saw the desire deep in his heart. “Good, good…” he murmured!
Being the listener and companion in this “cold” resuscitation room was his spiritual solace, for he understood that he was being understood, respected, and loved. Gradually, I witnessed Grandpa Tan’s struggle transforming into a desire for recovery, his cooperation with treatments becoming more proactive, and a flicker of hope reigniting in his eyes! Even though his expressions may not be clear anymore, the firm grip of his hand and the dependent look were all his efforts in response to us.
It turns out, that on that Dragon Boat Festival day, Grandpa Tan knocked the bed rail, “tricking” me to come, signaling his wife to bring me steaming hot sticky rice dumplings. This was a mutual exchange beyond words, where even memories fade, love continues to flow eternally in the reciprocal exchange, warming each other’s hearts! That night became particularly warm, filled with endless warmth and strength!
When Grandpa Tan was discharged after recovery, he waved goodbye to us excitedly, clearing his tightened throat, “Tha…nk you…” with tears shimmering in his eyes, tears of gratitude and excitement after overcoming the illness, carrying the weight of recovery’s hardships and visions of a better future.
Please understand the elderly dementia patients; they need not only care but also spiritual comfort. A smile, patient listening, a gentle word of comfort, all could be a ray of light in their dark world! We must not only be the statue of the goddess of mercy but also be the lamp in her hand, dispelling the darkness and fear in the hearts of each patient, lighting and guarding the beacon of hope on their journey forward. The road is long and challenging, but we are always on the path, illuminating every patient’s life journey with love and care!
