If you’ve ever traveled outside of the United States, you have most likely encountered the challenge of being in a country where English is not the official language. Depending on what part of the world you’re in—and whether you speak other languages—this can be a minor inconvenience or a major hurdle in navigating your way.
Last summer I was in Canada, where a significant portion of the population speaks French—not a language I’m conversant in. My husband and I were in a line of cars to pay for our entrance into a national park. When I saw that the lane we were in had a sign in French—whereas a different lane had a sign in English—I had a moment of anxiety.
I had no idea what “Restez a une distance d’au moins 100 m en tout temps” meant!
Were we in a French-only lane? Would we be able to get into the park if neither of us could speak French?
Nothing of the sort occurred, of course. But it did give me pause. As human beings, we strive to be independent, autonomous, in control of our own destiny. But what happens to that sense of control when the landscape changes, when the environment no longer looks familiar?
I immediately thought of the distress people living with dementia experience, because one of the first changes that occurs in dementia is difficulty with wayfinding.
A friend of mine became aware of her sister’s dementia when, instead of driving a few miles to the grocery store, her sister ended up on the other side of the state, going 50 miles per hour in a 25-mile-per-hour residential zone. She had panicked because she no longer knew where she was.
We’ll explore driving and dementia another time. But even in our living environments—whether it’s a residential facility or someone’s own home—there are interventions we can use to support people and reduce their distress in finding their way.
Placing significant visual cues at the end of hallways, for example, can serve as a signal that they’re nearing their destination, or at least on the right path. In one of the residential facilities we support, a large painting of a dog’s face serves as a signpost in a long hallway.
People can even have difficulty finding their way in a home they’ve lived in for 30 years. They may frequently ask their spouse, “Where am I supposed to go now?”
Validating their question—“Oh, you’re wondering where you need to go”—and then engaging them in something purposeful—“Let’s go get the silverware and set the table for supper”—can be a good way to provide them with a sense of comfort and security.
It’s good to know that even in the face of brain changes that we can’t stop or reverse, there are interventions we can use to support those living with dementia.
Rosemary Apol-Hoezee, RN, MPH, CPHRM, CDP
Dementia Specialist with the Dementia Institute
Navigating dementia care can be very confusing too. For guidance and support in developing your own plan for dementia, register today for a Personal Consultation with an expert from the Dementia Institute.