Zac Durant, UnsplashI saw it again, yesterday, the impact that spiritual care has on someone living with dementia when I visited an old friend, a pastor and evangelist now struck down (never mind the ‘living with’ bit, struck down is more realistic) with vascular dementia.  He is in hospital while arrangements are being made to move him into a care home.  I go to visit with his wife, Rose.

Staff in the hospital are kind and ‘open’, but they’re working under intense pressure and it’s so apparent that they are not using dementia interventions.  I asked another friend who is a dementia lead in the NHS Trust about it.  She said that the problem is they are so short of staff they just don’t have the time for it.

So there’s this gentle, humble pastor, who once had the biggest student church in his County and was spiritual father to hundreds of youngsters, in a busy, ‘unquiet’ , confusing place, being ‘pounced on’ by people he doesn’t know, who want to take his clothes off and issue instructions he doesn’t understand.  Not surprisingly, he tries to push them away and hits out at them – and is given an antipsychotic to calm him down.  To keep staff safe and make him compliant, really.  Antipsychotics are not good for people with dementia; the BMJ published another article on it recently. It worsens symptoms and leads to an earlier death.

When we arrived yesterday he was lying in bed like a wax statue.  Yes, he’d been given risperidone, said the staff nurse.  He’s a big man 6’ 3” (though thin), and he was hitting out at them. What were they doing?  ‘Attending him.’  Did they use any dementia based intervention?  No, she said, sadly, we just don’t have the staff to spend the time.  There were only two staff on the ward at that time, which has 14 beds.  He stirred when Rose held his hand and talked to him and I put on some music on the smart-screen on the wall.

Then one of the hospital chaplains came in.  I described Phil to him and suggested he read a psalm and say a little prayer.  So he did.  And as he read Phil’s eyes opened and fastened on the chaplain with his dog collar, and listened as he read the psalm.  His face lit up and he smiled.  When the chaplain finished he said, ‘wonderful!’  Then we were able to have a little conversation with him.

The effect continued: after we’d left, a couple  who are close friends visited, and later texted Rose to say that they had talked together, and prayed.

Spiritual support means engaging the dimension that the apostle Paul wrote about in 2 Corinthians 4:18, ‘while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.’  It’s when the  Holy Spirit ministers directly to the spirit of the person.

It’s something we’re looking at in my next Zoom meeting, on 12th September at 2:30 pm.  What does spiritual support look like?  How can it be ‘delivered’ in different circumstances, knowing that each case of dementia is different, unique to the person living with it.

To register, go to

https://www.pilgrimsfriend.org.uk/events/the-effects-of-spiritual-support-in-dementia-care

Louise Morse

Louise Morse MA (CBT) is media and external relations manager for the Pilgrims’ Friend Society. She is a writer and speaker, and author of books on issues of old age, including dementia, published by Lion Monarch and SPCK. She is a cognitive behavioural therapist, and her Masters’ dissertation examined the effects of caring for a loved one with dementia on close relatives.

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