Class helps Alzheimer's patients cope
MILWAUKEE, Wis. — Somewhere between memory and loss there is this: a class of eight students who range in age from 56 to 81. Five are in the early stage of Alzheimer's disease. Three suffer ailments that threaten their cognitive health.
They exercise their minds with Sudoku puzzles and worksheets where they complete a phrase. ("Live and let live. Honesty is the best policy."). They work the senses. (Hear that? It's a horn. Smell that? It's a garlic clove.)
Most of all, they talk, relate, laugh, and for a few hours are free to be who they are, the way they are.
"There is no reason to fear coming here. There is nothing scary about it," says Robert (Gus) Shanower, 56, in a low whisper of a voice, struggling with the effects of vascular dementia triggered by small strokes.
The Early Bird Club is a place of hope amid heartbreak, a potentially groundbreaking program tried in only a handful of communities nationwide.
Twice a week, four hours at a clip, there is a fight for memory at the Harwood Place Retirement Community in Wauwatosa, Wis. Alzheimer's can't yet be cured — it's a progressive brain disorder that affects 4.5 million Americans.
But maybe, just maybe, through a program like this, the early stages of the disease can somehow be slowed, memory retained. That's the hope, the goal.
They're not selling a miracle here. They're selling education, a social gathering, memory enhancement for those who suffer from mild memory loss.
"What we're trying to do is stimulate their minds, get them thinking of stuff, stuff they had long forgotten," says Jennifer Nowak, a warm, engaging 36-year-old who heads the class.
Nowak is a director of community services for Lutheran Living Services. But here, in a room off a main dining area, she's a teacher, friend and cheerleader for an eclectic group bound by a determination to not surrender to a disease.When the class began in early January, three people attended. Slowly but surely, the message got out. A recent class included eight students huddled around a couple of tables. Four days later, 10 people showed up.There is camaraderie. Newcomers are welcome. People who had similar professions gravitate to one another.There is even some gentle joking. The students are given a checklist of potential warning signs for Alzheimer's, including one about losing car keys in unusual places such as the trash can or the freezer."Who drives?" one man asks.Laughter fills the room.The key is stimulation to keep the brain working, the limbs moving: talk, work, even a gentle stroll after lunch.There are similar programs in Oklahoma, Minnesota and California. The model comes from Napa, Calif., created by Kristin Einberger, supervisor of an older adult program. She named it "Mind Boosters" and tailored the program for "people who are fully aware they have issues with their memories," those who would feel out of place in groups designed for those in the mid to late stages of the disease."We called it an early memory loss group," Einberger says. "The Big A (Alzheimer's) is still a stigma."She doesn't have hard data, but Einberger claims the program makes a difference to the students."Alzheimer's is progressive," she says. "It's my belief we can make a difference and maybe we can keep them at this (early) stage longer than if they were sitting home on the couch completely isolated."At the Early Bird Club here, prospective students have to "pass" a mini-mental test that includes such questions as: What year is this? What state are you in? And how many animals can you name in a minute?"They have to understand they are having problems and they have to verbalize them," Nowak says. "And they have to be willing to participate."Students are retested every month. So far, nobody's exam score declined, Nowak says, a small victory in a large battle.Spouses of the students are encouraged by the early results. One says she notices that her husband is now more animated, freer even.
Another spouse says she has seen improvement in her husband."I'm hopeful," she says. "I may be reading something into it that's not there."But hope is a start, hope that the spouse may be able to maintain cognitive abilities.Spend a few days with the class and a few things stand out.There's homework, the students filling out worksheets, stretching their minds with math and history, rustling papers in three-ring binders.Pictures also play a large part. They're designed to stir questions, jar memories as the class creates a group story, applying names to characters. A photo of a Tupperware party from the 1950s triggers reminders of the way things used to be, when ranch homes and plastic containers were all the rage."This is crazy," one woman says in the midst of a story the class creates, a story that revolves around a chicken salad lunch and neighbors carpooling to the party.But by the end, the woman has bought into the subject. And when someone says the party ends with martinis, the woman deadpans, "I never had a martini at a Tupperware party. I missed out." Again, laughter fills the room.There's a lot of love in the room, too. Love based on a shared struggle."You have to have a sense of humor," Nowak says. "You have to appreciate these people as individuals."Millie Thompson, a program assistant, cajoles and smiles and tries to keep everyone upbeat, as she goes through the story.She also comes to class with a bag or two of tricks. One day, it's the scent test, smells to stir memories. Another day, it's the noise test, a party noisemaker that might trigger a long-ago New Year's Eve memory."I just think this program keeps them on their toes," Thompson says. "Games make brains."By trial and error, the class learns what works, what doesn't, the puzzles, the homework, the sounds, the smells.With that whispery voice, Shanower says, "This gives a person something to do."And it gives the students something more. Hope in a struggle for memory.
