Stories from a hospital ward musician - "Bug Eyes", Dec 2021

[Greenthorn]

At the beginning of December, Lucy and I visited the UCHospital, London, in our capacity as volunteers. We entered T10 ward and chanced upon a little old lady called Margaret, sitting in an armchair at the side of her bed. She was a little confused in her head, and a little shaky with her arm movements. However, she was very chatty and quite sharp with her wit, her eyes darting around, watching what was happening.

Lucy and I chatted with her, reassuring her where she was. I had a selection of 4 keyrings in my bag that I’d bought at a Turkish stall in Putney, the week before. On each keyring was a small cat, handcrafted in cotton, and padded inside, with two buttons sewn in for eyes. [See picture.] On the spur of the moment, I decided to show Margaret the four cats, to grab her attention. She was fascinated by each of the cat’s faces, and I asked Margaret if she’d like to choose one to keep. Without too much hesitation, she chose the one in the picture. She put the key ring around one finger and held the cat in the palm of her hand. Margaret was so excited, and she named the cat, “Bug Eyes”.

A week later, Lucy and I revisited the ward. When Margaret saw us coming, she cried out “Bug Eyes!”, recognising both Lucy and me. Lucy was quite chuffed that Margaret had remembered us, however as we approached, Margaret said she had lost Bug Eyes. Lucy began to look around Margaret’s bed and table but couldn’t find Bug Eyes. But within a few minutes, Margaret exclaimed, “I’ve found Bug Eyes, he’s in my pocket!”

In another bay, I met two elderly male patients who were sitting opposite each other: Joe and Gerry. Joe was a small man, hunched up in his chair and wearing pyjamas. I offered him a cheery “hello Joe,” but all that came back from Joe was an accusatory “You’re wearing my shoes”. I foolishly asked him to tell me which size shoes he wears, guessing his shoe size would be larger than mine, but all he said again was “You’re wearing my shoes!” On reflection, I should have congratulated Joe on the comfort of his shoes and saying I was only borrowing them for the morning, though, I don’t know where that would have got me! Logic is out the window when living with dementia.

My mother had Alzheimer’s and would often misidentify me. I could be one of 4 different people: her son, her brother, the lodger, (there was no lodger), and someone who had no right to be in the house at all! I remember once protesting with her at the kitchen table, telling her I would get my passport to prove my identity. I ran upstairs to get my passport and hurried down to show her, but she was resolute, saying to me,” you’ve stolen my son’s passport”. It was a no-win situation.

Back to the ward, I began to talk to Gerry, a tall man sitting in his armchair. He looked very grumpy and miserable, and so he proved to be! I asked Gerry if he would like me to play music through my Bluetooth speaker. “No, no”, he replied, “you’re trying to con me.” Big mistake. When I tried to remonstrate with him, he became more insistent that I was trying to con him. I changed tack and managed to extract from him that he liked Bill Haley. I jumped on this and said, “Bill Haley and the comets?” (Hooray, I had his attention.) He told me about this act appearing at a London venue. He questioned me what had happened, and I guessed that the public was dancing when they shouldn’t have been. “And what next?” asked Gerry, still in a grumpy mood. Well, I had no idea and confessed my ignorance. “Well, the police raided the place, to stop the dancing,” said Gerry.

By this time, Gerry had transported himself back to the fifties and talked about his girlfriend of the time, and how they would spend time jiving at the local town hall. He became quite gentle in his remembrance of her, saying she was a lovely girl. I was thinking how well I had done in teasing his memory and getting him to speak to me. I thanked him for his stories and wished him goodbye. With dead seriousness, he shouted out, “But I know you’re trying to con me.” He had reverted to Mr. Grumpy!

But my memories of that day are of Bug Eyes, the cat. I had put these 4 keyrings in my bag that morning, not with any real intention of showing them to anyone, but I’m so glad I did. I’m so glad Margaret really, really appreciated Bug Eyes. HAPPY NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE.

[Damon1864 Volunteer]

Thank you for sharing that us it was lovelyHave a good day and take care Happy New Year 😊 Bernadette and Jack 🐕 xxxxxx

[Greenthorn in reply to Damon1864]

Thanks Bernadette, I hope "Bug Eyes" is a lucky charm for you and Jack through 2022. I hope to be back visiting the wards on Monday 10 January.XXX

[SORRELHIPPO]

Great stories, I love the total disconnectedness of some peoples thoughts when they have dementia. I used to spend ages trying to work out how they had got from A to B, and wondering how many letters there had been in-between.

[Greenthorn in reply to SORRELHIPPO]

I know some people WITHOUT dementia, that stick a dozen or more letters between A and B.😄

[SORRELHIPPO in reply to Greenthorn]

I worked with some of them, but somehow their questionable logic was never as endearing as someone with one of the dementias. Although I sometimes I found it was me, I sometimes forgot, that there were things I had learned, that, I had not always known. So why did I expect a junior to know it. I never stopped being infuriated at someone who did not want to learn, when they thought that they had now qualified and therefore could give up learning.

[Greenthorn in reply to SORRELHIPPO]

See my reply to Alberta. Yes, I get you about people who think learning has stopped when they have a qualification or certificate. Very often, new volunteers are asked to shadow me for a morning session on the Ward. I remember a lady in her early fifties who was said to be a specialist in 'empathy' like she'd been trained up in this and also had knowledge of a host of other things. From the outset she wanted to cut loose from me and go one to one with patients on her own. I reminded her of my managers instructions but it was clear she resented having just a watching brief.

But I did allow her to engage with patients to see how she interacted. The very first patients she saw was an elderly man lying in bed who appeared disinterested in anything going on. Well that in itself was not unusual but this lady seemed to think she had an obligation to deliver her great powers of empathy and continued to question the man in the hope of sparking a conversation. If she had understood empathy at all she would have known the man was too tired to speak and was just needing to rest. Ultimately I asked her to leave it, to come away from him. I'm glad to say this has been the only volunteer so far that I have not got on with! Of course I made my views known to my manager who was very diplomatic!

I still make mistakes and say the wrong things and one would hope I learn from that. I tell people never to make assumptions yet I do that all the time. I'm always interested in WHERE people come from yet its not really important. One holiday I had in Finland I met up with a group of lads who had been drinking. They took me under their wing and one guy said to me in deep Finnish tones, "We don't care where you come from, we don't care who you are. We only care you are with us now!" I have never forgotten that.

Sorrel, may you have an eventful 2022 in a GOOD way!

[SORRELHIPPO in reply to Greenthorn]

Thankyou and all the best to you and yours. As to your "shadow volunteer" too much of "it's all about me", some medics get offended if a patient does not respond, the way they expect, always makes me giggle, because I am a very bad patient. I had a consultant, who when I grumbled about how ill the meds made me feel, said I am trying to give you another 5 - 10 years, he was horrified, when I snarled back, I do not want them feeling like this. His face made my day/week.

[Alberta56]

Thank you for sharing those stories. Lovely that the lady was so taken with Bug Eyes. Glad you persevered with the dementia people, though a bit disconcerting given my current situation. xxx

[Greenthorn in reply to Alberta56]

Alberta, my heart goes out to you. Yes my mother had Alzheimer's. I remember being with her at home when she was first diagnosed. The Australian psychiatrist lady put her through a series of questions in the living room. One of the questions was, "without looking at the clock, what time of day do you think it is? " My mother sauntered over to the window, looked out, and replied "About 4 o'clock". In fact it was about ten past four in the afternoon, The psychiatrist was amazed and asked "How can you tell?" My mother replied "By the position of the sun!"

Another time when I escorted my mother to Maudsley Hospital, we were sitting in chairs awaiting for the doctor when my mother said to me "Will you hear your name when its called?" (My mother knew I wore hearing aids.)

And another time, when I boasted to her that I knew where everything was in the house, where she had hid money under newspaper in the bedroom doors etc, she looked at me coldly and said, "Do you know where my gun is?"

Yes Alberta, there was still laughter among the tears and one day I hope that L O V E will find a way to reunite us.

All I know now is that it is nigh impossible to have a logical discussion with someone living with dementia. One lady patient I met swore she was the sister of our present Queen. One just has to go along with it. It was a fascinating conversation! Thanks so much for your reply and very best wishes to your husband. I will post again soon for I have other stories from my December hospital visits. David XXX

[YummyBear in reply to Greenthorn]

Most fascinating reading! You and Lucy have given so much to these lovely people and in return you have gained a truly inner reward of knowing how much joy and kindness you have given to such remarkable folk. How would I go about getting involved with suchlike volunteering by giving my time, caring nature and wanting to help others in the way you have explained and experienced. Thank you.

[Greenthorn in reply to YummyBear]

Hi YummyBear, thanks for your reply. I will pm you on the name and address of the Voluntary Services Manager at UCLH.I don't know where you live but I should think most NH hospital trusts have a voluntary services department. It would be a case of writing to the hospital to enquire of such department.

Prior to Covid, UCLH had about 450 volunteers. Some doing errands or shopping, others on newspaper rounds, others greeting patients in reception, and others acting as befriended on wards. The training is good and we are required to learn about data protection, fire, hygiene and a number of other things.

Ordinarily, volunteers work alone, though we all feel part of a team. Lucy (who had been a nurse for many years) began by shadowing me on the wards. But she asked if she could work together with me as it gave her a greater confidence. No problem. There is much to be gained in working in pairs. In a bay of 4-5 patients we can create a good-feel buzz, merely by patients seeing visitors in the plural!

Also we can alternate between patients since it can tiring, on our feet for 2 and a half to 3 hours.

And of course, I am there to play music through a Bluetooth speaker. Music can enable a patient to recall memories, become happy or evoke other emotions. We, as volunteers, can share those feelings with the patients. The nurses too, love the music and I occasionally ask them for requests and can readily play West African music, Caribbean and anything else, even dancing with them to the delight of patients.

There ya go. A little insight into my work. Work? No, it's more play!

[Gladwyn in reply to Greenthorn]

I laughed out loud on reading your Mum asked if you knew where she kept her gun!! Did she really have one? 😱

[Greenthorn in reply to Gladwyn]

Hi Gladwyn, no, she never had a gun. That's why her comment was so funny! I remember one mid-morning, I was in the kitchen having an attempt at making marmalade with Seville oranges. I'd been there near two hours, like the sorcerer's apprentice, filling up jars and like whilst my mother was lying down upstairs in bed.

Eventually I saw the kitchen door open and my mother standing there in her dressing gown. She looked at me sternly and said "People come before marmalade". What a put down. I never forgot, and it taught me a lesson.😜

[Alberta56 in reply to Greenthorn]

Thank you.

[Gladwyn]

She was quite right too…..but I do like marmalade lol