Showing posts with label Family dynamics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family dynamics. Show all posts

Thursday, January 15, 2015

The Greatest Gift? Granting Permission


Certain things are just universal.  All humans need nutrition. All humans need hydration. All humans need air. There really is no argument to these basic needs for existence. Once our physical needs are met, the priority becomes filling our emotional needs.  At the heart of our emotional needs is the desire to feel safe and secure.  As children, we are taught that a key way to feel safe and secure is through the approval of our parents, and as we age, we become conditioned to seek out approval of others as well.  

The degree of power to which we give others approval of us varies widely and is based on things such as personality, upbringing, and life experiences.  One thing there is no need to debate, approval of others feels good and is validating.

We know that approval is tied in to safety and security, so you can imagine during the end of life, if a person isn’t feeling safe and secure, they will seek out approval even more.   The ways someone seeks approval can be subtle or direct.  Some take medications they don’t want in an effort to get the approval of their doctor or family members.  Others get out of bed when they don’t feel like it, or eat a few bites of a meal despite having no appetite.  I see patients entertain guests when they’d rather be sleeping, still seeking the approval of others. 

Other times approval seeking comes with stories from the past as people use the narrative of their lives to gain validation.  Amazingly, some even prolong their dying as a means of gaining the approval of family members who don’t want them to die.

Since approval is a universal emotional need, a helpful thing family and friends can give at the end of life is the gift of approval.  The easiest way to think about how to give approval is to give permission.  Permission removes any guilt associated with seeking approval and fear of disappointing those we love.  Give someone the permission to be tired, to not eat, to be worried, to be angry, to refuse treatment, to feel sad, or ultimately to die.

It’s not just the patient that needs permission during end of life situations. Caregivers and family members need permission as well.  They too are seeking approval in an insecure and unsafe reality.  One of the greatest areas caregivers need permission is in letting go of the caregiving to step back into the role of spouse/child/friend.   It is impossible to provide both total physical care as well as emotional care towards the end of life. Society unfortunately gives approval to the more tangible physical care, despite the more important value that comes with emotional care that only family and loved ones can provide.  Often it takes a hospice team to grant that permission.

Just like with patients, we can be responsible for granting approval to caregivers and loved ones. By giving them permission to be where they are, whether angry, sad, worried, not wanting to say goodbye or hoping it was all over.


Permission is a simple way to give approval with untold benefits for those around us.

Monday, December 22, 2014

Talking to kids about death


It’s difficult for adults to talk to one another about death.  The topic makes us uncomfortable.  Despite this fact, most of us will muster up the courage and have these hard conversations when the need arises.  There is something, however, far more difficult than talking to our peers about death and that is talking to children about death.

 Parents will have memories of questions kids have posed about death when a pet has died or bird is found deceased outdoors.  These awkward moments force us as adults to simplify a complex concept on the fly, and usually unprepared, at best we stumble our way through.

What do we do when it’s not a pet; when the impending death of a parent or grandparent looms?  

That answer is as complex as the topic of death itself.  There are some basic facts however, that help guide us.  One, we know that avoiding the topic of death is harmful.  Kids are very observant, and usually have already encountered death on T.V. or have seen dead insects.  Though it may feel like we are protecting children by not talking about it, research shows it creates much more problems for the child.

It is also not a good idea to force information that may be too complex on a child.  The best approach is a balance between avoidance and confrontation.  The goal is to be honest, sensitive, and approachable.

Another mistake adults often make is to use euphemisms when talking to kids.  Children are literal, so when an adult says, “Your Grandma is in a better place now,” Kids literally think Grandma might be at Disney World.  The phrase “he just went to sleep” is also very scary for a child to hear.  Children will become afraid of sleeping themselves, assuming they too might never wake up.
 
It’s helpful to keep in mind that the developmental stage of the child is important to understanding the concept of death.  For instance, kids ages 2-4 don’t grasp the permanence of death.  Death is temporary to them, and they will continue to expect the deceased to come back.  This age group may react to death with separation anxiety, withdrawing, regression or confusion.

Kids ages 4-7 often have magical thinking. This group will often feel responsible for the death and may connect something completely unrelated to it.  For instance, a fight at school gets linked to the reason they think their dad is dying.  This group may appear unaffected and unemotional after someone dies.  Because of the tendency to feel guilty for the death, this age group needs good communication and openness.

Once kids are 7-10 they begin to realize death is not reversible. This age group is very curious about death and may ask insensitive questions. They can view death as a punishment and will often start worrying that others around them may die, or that they themselves will die soon.

People often ask if children should visit someone who is dying. The best advice is to leave the decision up to the child. If they are interested, they should visit with thorough preparation on what they will see when they arrive.  They should be given permission to leave at any time.  Finally, children should never be forced or made to feel guilty if they don’t want to participate.


Even though death is a difficult topic for adults, if we approach it the right way with kids, the foundation for healing and understanding for a lifetime can be created. 

*Photo is a screenshot from the movie "Is Anybody There?"

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Oregon's Death With Dignity Act


If you’ve been listening to the news you will have undoubtedly heard rumblings about something called the “Death with Dignity Act” and a 29 year old woman named Brittany Maynard with terminal cancer who plans to ingest a lethal medication next month to ensure that she dies peacefully, with family surrounding her.

This concept of physician-assisted suicide is very controversial, and something we should all be aware of for the sake of conversation as well as to prepare for future debates on this issue.

First the facts.  There are three states that allow for physician-assisted suicide:  Oregon, Washington and Vermont.  Oregon was the first, enacting the Death with Dignity Act in 1997.  The DWDA allows residents of Oregon 18 years or older who have been certified by two physicians to have a terminal prognosis of less than 6 months and who are communicative and of sound mind, to obtain a lethal prescription from a physician which they may ingest on their own accord with the specific purpose of causing death.

Last year 122 prescriptions were written in Oregon.  From the data, usually between 60-70% of those written a prescription will actually use it to cause death.  The prescription is usually a barbiturate and data so far has shown it has taken between 5 minutes and nearly 6 hours to die after ingestion.
   
Brittany Maynard is just one of many who have chosen to die in this way. So why all the media attention now?  For one, Brittany is only 29 years old.  The average age for DWDA patients last year was 71.  She also has made her story public, posting a video online as well as doing interviews.  However, it’s more than her age and the media attention, I think her story strikes a nerve and forces us to address common fears that surround the idea of death.

Cut away all of the hype, emotions, and narrative and at the core, what death with dignity is really about is autonomy and control.  In fact, 93% of DWDA patients say loss of autonomy is a reason they chose to end their life.  Other factors DWDA patients mention as reasons for participating is loss of quality of life and loss of dignity.

I find it interesting that these are issues hospice is designed to address.  The idea behind hospice is to increase quality of life, improve dignity and add autonomy.  However, what hospice will not do is interfere with the natural process at hand by hastening death, as the DWDA allows.
 
Ms. Maynard said in an interview that it is a “relief that I don’t have to die the way it’s been described to me”.  As a hospice physician who has cared for innumerable patients with her type of cancer it appears she’s misinformed.  With aggressive symptom management and all the tools hospice provides, the natural progression of the disease and dying should be peaceful.

Her statement though reminds us of what the underlying fear is shadowing the autonomy, dignity, and quality of life concepts surrounding the DWDA, which is the fear of suffering.  Why have a prescription that gives you the ultimate autonomy over death unless the threat of the loss of that autonomy is causing suffering?

As with most heated debates, this one comes down to values.  What has higher value, life or autonomy?  Moreover, should suffering be avoided at all costs, even at the cost of life itself?  Your answer to these questions will place you on one side or the other of this controversial debate.




Monday, September 15, 2014

To Reorient or Validate? Caregivers and Dementia


I would guess most of us have encountered dementia. With approximately 14% of those over 70, and estimates that 40% of those over the age of 90 have the disease, the expectations are that if not yet, soon, we will all interact with someone who has the disease.

The diagnosis of dementia brings with it overwhelming scenarios for caregivers, as they deal with more than just the loss of function over time, but also the loss of personality, memories, and the relationship itself with their loved ones.  Dementia changes communication and when it begins to rob our loved ones of this gift, we feel we our ‘losing’ them, despite them physically still being present.  

One of the hallmark symptoms of patients with dementia is that they become disoriented to the current time and situation. It starts small, thinking it’s Sunday, when actually it’s Friday. Then it becomes a different season, a different year, and ultimately a different reality. This disorientation can be one of the biggest challenges to caregivers. How should you approach someone who says they need to head to work when they’ve been retired for 20 years?

Until recently, the main recommendation has been something called reality orientation. As the name suggests, clinicians recommended reorienting someone. “You can’t go to work today, you retired 20 years ago!”  This therapy includes frequent discussion of current events, using calendars, clocks, and other items to refocus patients to the here and now.  Research has suggested there is a small cognitive benefit with reality orientation, better with mild forms of dementia vs. more moderate types. 

One of the issues caregivers complain about with reality orientation, however, is a decrease in quality of life measures such as mood and behavior with this therapy. You can imagine if someone with dementia is verbally corrected continually, they might become frustrated, depressed, and even angry.
Caregivers begin to dread their interactions with loved ones, spending the majority of time reorienting them to reality. This task can spiral a pleasant encounter into something that ends in silence, both parties frustrated.

There is an alternative. In Hospice, we use something called validation therapy.  With validation therapy, caregivers enter into the world of the person with dementia. “Tell me, what’s on the agenda for work today?”  Instead of trying to bring that person into your world, validation therapy asks you to step into his world. Caregivers report increased communication, increased positive mood of the patient, and greater satisfaction with the relationship.

The idea behind validation therapy is that of respect. Even if a memory being told is incorrect, the wrong place or the wrong people, as caregivers we can smile and go along with it. This essentially validates the person with the memory, and despite the dementia, they feel heard and loved and thus everyone involved has a better quality experience.  

For those who have worried about doing harm by encouraging the improbable things patients with dementia talk about, now you know it can be beneficial and is a true therapy. 


As with most medical things, there is never an absolute. Sometimes a combination of both therapies works the best. With such a difficult disease, I think anything that can make the day to day interactions more positive should be considered. 

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Family Dynamics

Have you ever noticed how a crisis can bring out the best or the worst in families? We see this in natural disasters, financial crisis, and physical traumas. Usually the stories we hear are the positive tales of families bonding together with incredible strength, finding themselves more resilient and closer than ever.  Less told are the stories of family implosions, where the end result is a fractured, broken mess. 

Probably, the more common finding when a family faces a crisis is not the extreme good or bad, but a mixture of both. This is especially true when a family confronts an end of life issue together. The conglomeration of personalities, conflicts, and opinions is what we call family dynamics.

This is an inescapable part of being in a family, and if you think your family is immune, you just haven’t been faced with the right crisis yet. Consider this your warning.

The reason family dynamics are so visibly apparent when a family member is facing death, has much to do with the limited time frame and finality that death introduces. No longer can differences of opinion between family members be ignored, as the immediacy of dying requires no hesitations. One person may think more treatments should be sought after, while another person thinks they should change the focus to comfort based goals. Fireworks may ensue, as the treatment seeker feels that the comfort approach is leading to death.
Besides the conflicts regarding the overall goals of where a patient is heading, family opinions on proper medication use, resource allocations, final wishes, and funeral plans can all cause battles.

At the core of some family dynamics are unresolved personal issues pertaining to the one who is dying. This can range from past wrongs, to current guilt at how the relationship has turned out, to perceived favoritism among siblings.  When all of these past slights are carried into the room of a family member who is dying, even something as simple as deciding on whether to insert a bladder catheter can erupt into conflict because it transforms into a symbol of power struggle.

I was once in a room where such a dynamic took place.  In whispered dramatic tones, family members hovered in a corner arguing about whether their dad should be forced to eat his ice cream or not. 

Meanwhile, their father quietly began to make the changes suggestive of immediate death, and I had to draw their attention back to what really mattered; the last moments of their father’s life.

This is the problem when family dynamics run amok; the focus is shifted away from the patient. This may be precisely why some families create conflict, as it becomes more comfortable than confronting the reality of dying. But in the end, it’s not supposed to be about us. In the end, it really is about the one who is dying.


We cannot escape our personalities, or the summation of all things from our family story, but we can pause and remember who the main character is when someone’s dying.  Maybe, if we’re prepared for the roller coaster of family dynamics, and get lucky, we’ll be a stronger, closer family by the end.