Monthly Archives: May 2018

Easy ways to calm down crazy full moon behaviors

Posted on by
Reply

ヨガThe human body is 55 to 78% water (depending on sex and age) so it makes sense that the gravitational pull of the moon would affect us, right?  Many scientists point out that the biological tide theory doesn’t hold. On The Skeptics Dictionary website Robert Todd Carroll says, “Given the minute and bounded mass of fluid contained within the human body, compared to the enormous and free-flowing mass of ocean water, and given the enormous distance to the moon, the lunar pull on the human body is negligible.”

Theories about the moon’s influence on animal behavior are more widely accepted. Although the topic of whether or not the moon affects human behavior is controversial, there is plenty of anecdotal evidence and some scientific evidence indicating that it does.

I, for one, have a difficult time sleeping around the full moon. And my husband, who suffered from Alzheimer’s disease, exhibited more agitated behavior when the moon was full.

Studies have shown that the lunar cycle has an impact on fertility, menstruation, and birth rate.  Admittance to hospitals and emergency units due to cardiovascular and acute coronary events, arterial hemorrhages in the stomach and esophagus, diarrhea, and urinary retention correlate with moon phases. Other events linked to human behavior, such as traffic accidents, crimes, and suicides, seem to be influenced by the lunar cycle.

In the 1600’s Sr. William Hale, a distinguished British physician and medical biographer, wrote, “The moon has a great influence in all diseases of the brain, especially dementia.” The British Lunacy Act of 1842, which dismissed crazy behavior as being caused by the full moon, built on his theory.  In fact, as recently as 1940 a British soldier who was charged with murder pleaded “moon madness.”

Alan M. Beck of Purdue University conducted a longitudinal study to objectively examine the lunar influence on the frequency, duration, and intensity of behaviors in individuals with Alzheimer’s disease.

He examined wandering, anxiety, physical aggression, and verbal confrontation. His study concluded that individuals with Alzheimer’s disease did, in fact, exhibit significantly more erratic behaviors during periods of the full moon, and that these behaviors were of greater duration during that time. The objective analysis that a lunar influence on behavior in Alzheimer’s individuals exists validates a long-standing belief held by many healthcare providers.

If you’re a caregiver for someone with dementia, you’ve probably seen some odd behavior in your loved one around the full moon. And if you have trouble sleeping or feel restless or anxious during the full-moon, you’ve personally noticed the effects.

Here are some ways to calm the nerves and odd behaviors during the full moon or anytime.

From Calmer Waters: The Caregiver’s Journey Through Alzheimer’s & Dementia--“Aromatherapy” chapter 18 by Laraine Kyle Pounds, RN, MSN, BSN, CMT.

Aromatherapy can be a resource of comfort to you and your care partner by providing an easy, natural way to reduce stress and anxiety and uplift mood. The following oils can be used in a diffuser, or put in a bath or fragrance free moisturizer. They can also be sprayed on a pillow or handkerchief.

Citrus oils are generally refreshing and uplifting for the mind and emotions, relieve stress and anxiety, and are useful for odor management and appetite support. Consider: bergamot, grapefruit, lemon, and orange.

Floral oils are often used as a personal fragrance and are useful to relieve anxiety, depression, and irritability. These oils are useful as an inhaler, in a body lotion, and for the bath. Consider: clary sage, geranium, lavender, rose, and ylang ylang.

Tree oils are revitalizing with immune boosting properties, ease respiratory congestion, and are supportive to breathing ease. They are useful for pain relief, skin infections, and odor management, and can relieve nervous exhaustion and depression. Consider: eucalyptus (Eucalytpus citriodora or globulus), pine needle, sandalwood, or Tea Tree.

Herbal remedies (from chapter 31, Nutritional Support for Caregivers, in “Calmer Waters: The Caregiver’s Journey Through Alzheimer’s & Dementia”

A nervine is a plant remedy that has a beneficial effect upon the nervous system.  Nervines are especially useful during times of stress because they have a strong relaxing and calming effect without producing a dulling, “hang-over” side effect.  They also tone and restore the nervous system to a more balanced state.  Some nervines are also anti-spasmodic, meaning they relax the peripheral nerves and the muscle tissue, which in turn has a relaxing effect on the whole system.

The main types of nervines are tonics, relaxants, and stimulants.

  • Nervine Tonics – are particularly helpful for strengthening the nervous system and restoring balance. In addition to having a relaxing effect, they have a vaso-dilating action on the blood vessels of the brain.  This increases oxygen availability to brain cells and helps with mental agility and mood.
  • Nervine Relaxants – are especially beneficial for short-term use, for example in treating mild depression or acute anxiety. “This group of nervines are most important in times of stress and confusion, alleviating many of the accompanying symptoms. They should always be used in a broad holistic way, not simply to tranquillize.  Too much tranquilizing, even that achieved through herbal medication, can in time deplete and weigh heavily on the whole nervous system,” says renown herbalist David Hoffman.
  • Nervine Stimulants– are used as a restorative “pick-me-up” when you need an energetic boost without that revved up feeling produced by caffeine.

Recommended nervines:

  • Passion flower- helps soothe anxiety, insomnia, tension headaches, muscle aches and spasms, pain, hyperactivity, epilepsy, and helps alleviate anger and lower blood pressure.
  • Skullcap – is antispasmodic and relaxing and is recommended to relieve headaches, mood swings, insomnia, premenstrual syndrome, and nervous tension and exhaustion.

The next time you’re feeling nervous, agitated, restless or hyped up, calm your nerves with a nervine herb or aromatherapy. If your loved one has Alzheimer’s or dementia and is on medication, please check with the physician to make sure they do not interact with the nervine herbs.  Use pure essential aromatherapy oils to lower risk of allergy.

If all else fails, you can always go outside and howl at the moon.

 

Studies showing we are affected by the full moon

1. More babies are born around the full moon. A study in Kyoto, Japan looked at 1007 natural births and found there was significant increase in births when the moon was closest to the earth. Results of this study suggest that the gravitational pull of the Moon has an  influence on the frequency of births.

2. Do you have trouble sleeping around the full moon? Sleep researcher Christian Cajochen at the Psychiatric Hospital of the University of Basel in Switzerland conducted a four-year lab study to see if he could show that it is physiologically true that many people have difficulty sleeping during the full moon.  His researchers monitored the brain activity, eye movements and hormone secretions of 33 volunteers in the lab while the participants slept. All the participants were healthy, good sleepers, and did not take any drugs or medication.Unexpectedly, the scientists found “the lunar cycle seems to influence human sleep, even when one does not see the moon and is not aware of the actual moon phase,” Cajochen said. After reviewing their data, the scientists found during the time of the full moon, brain activity related to deep sleep dropped by 30 percent. People also took five minutes longer on average to fall asleep, and they slept for 20 minutes less overall on full-moon nights. The volunteers felt as though their sleep was poorer when the moon was full, and they showed diminished levels of melatonin, a hormone known to regulate sleep and wake cycles. “It took me more than four years until I decided to publish the results, because I did not believe it myself,” Cajochen told LiveScience. “I was really skeptical about the finding, and I would love to see a replication.”

Barbra Cohn cared for her husband Morris for 10 years. He passed away from younger-onset Alzheimer’s disease in 2010. Afterward, she was compelled to write “Calmer Waters: The Caregiver’s Journey Through Alzheimer’s & Dementia” in order to help other caregivers feel healthier and happier, have more energy, sleep better, feel more confident, deal with feelings of guilt and grief, and to ultimately experience inner peace. “Calmer Waters” is available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Boulder Book Store, Tattered Cover Book Store,  Indie Bound.org, and many other fine independent bookstores, as well as public libraries.

Love doesn’t conquer all: caregiver resentment and frustration

Posted on by
Reply

Senior Couple QuarrellingI recently participated in a caregiver symposium. I spoke to dozens of caregivers who expressed fatigue, frustration, and exasperation. Everyone was stressed and stretched to the limit. I detected little joy. Instead, people appeared resentful. “I didn’t sign up for this,” one man said. Another confided, “I read your book and am taking your advice. I will not let my wife’s illness ruin my life.”

Caregiving only goes one way: it gets harder. And when we don’t really like the person we are caring for or if we feel trapped, it is even more challenging. I was only 48 years old when my beloved husband was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. I knew our lives would never be the same again. . . and they weren’t.

Yes, we had joy. Our young adult children graduated from college and got married. We went on a few trips. We had some funny moments that elicited belly laughs. But the emotions I remember most are the heaviness of grief, despair, depression, guilt, and fear. I didn’t feel resentment, I think, because I have a philosophical outlook that we reap what we sow (as in the law of karma), and that somewhere, somehow in a past life beyond the ethers I had signed up for my caregiving duty. I tried to put on a happy face. But I told my closest friends that I was exhausted and stressed.

I felt shame that after decades of practicing Transcendental Meditation and following a healthy vegetarian lifestyle our lives had come to this. Wasn’t life supposed to be blissful and free of stress? I soon realized that no one gets out of here without going through at least one huge, transformative challenge. Mine was caregiving for my life partner, who was unable to hep me make the big decisions such as finding a smaller house because ours had become unmanageable, or finding a memory care home for him when I wasn’t able to continue physically caring for him.

Guilt? Yes, I still feel guilt even though my therapist often said to me “If a friend told you what you just told me, what would you say to her?”

“I would tell her ‘you are doing the best that you can.'” And I did do the best I could for my husband. I took him to healers and doctors and gave him nutritional supplements that been shown to help support cognition and memory.

But I still feel guilt about running away every chance I got to dance or have lunch with a friend, even though I know I needed the relief time in order to stay healthy and strong so I could carry out my caregiving duties.

When all is said and done, if you are not exactly thrilled about giving countless hours to someone you love or to someone you are obligated to care for because there is no one else, you might as well learn how to be the best caregiver possible. Because when your caregiving is over, you will have another chance to live the life you chose for yourself. So give it your best shot. Here are some ways to ease the burden and to help you feel good about yourself and the person you are caring for.

Lighten the load of caregiving

  • Take care of yourself first. Carve out time every day to go for a walk, do yoga, dance, sing, whatever it takes to help you feel better.
  • Join a support group. I don’t know how I would have maintained my sanity if I hadn’t joined the younger-onset Alzheimer’s support group offered by the Alzheimer’s Association.
  • See a therapist. Mine was a god-send who listened with compassion and gave excellent advice.
  • Sign up for community services such as day programs, senior centers, Meals on Wheels, hotlines, etc.
  • Hire someone to take your “care partner” (the person you care for) out for lunch, to the movies, for a visit to a museum, etc.
  • Ask your friends and neighbors for help mowing the lawn, retrieving the mail, sitting with your “care partner “so you can do errands, etc.
  • Talk to family members and make a plan to share the responsibilities. (more on this in another blog post)
  • Make an appointment with an elder attorney to draw up a contract for you to receive wages, find out how to get social security withheld, etc.
  • Breathe! After I buried my husband I realized that I hadn’t fully breathed in years. I was tight, my lungs were tight and I was holding my breath waiting for the next next emergency to occur.

image

Here’s an excerpt from my book  Calmer Waters: The Caregiver’s Journey Through Alzheimer’s and Dementia about breath work, including a simple exercise. Follow the directions for breathing in order to release stress and feel more energized.

by Reverend Shanthi Behl (excerpted from Calmer Waters)

Breath work is the first and easiest to start with. We can deliberately extend, shorten, retain, and otherwise direct the air we breathe in a variety of ways in order to guide the prana. Second, is the mechanism of directed attention, also known as our intention. Where our thoughts go, our prana goes. An integrated pranayama practice utilizes both the breath and our focused attention.

When we say we are tired and have no energy, what we are really saying is that our energy is blocked. We need to breathe to live, and how we breathe can profoundly affect our degree of physical well-being; it can regulate our emotions, and it can deplete, sustain, or increase our experience of aliveness. Prana is constantly fluctuating and moving throughout the universe. According to yoga philosophy, it flows throughout the living body in exquisitely determined whirlpools and currents. The wonderment of the yogic system is asana and pranayama practice which allows our innate energy currents to flow as nature intended.

The following instructions are for sitting, but you can practice this exercise while standing in mountain pose.

• Sit up tall, lengthen the spine, and place the feet flat on the floor. Press the feet into the ground, even as you press the top of the head toward the ceiling.

Relax the hands lightly on the lap and release the shoulders down away from the ears.

• Soften the belly muscles. As you breathe in through the nose, lengthen through the crown of the head.

• As you breathe out through the nose, release the shoulders and press your feet into the floor.

• Continue this practice and turn your awareness to sensations along the spinal column. Feel the upward flow as you breathe in and the downward flow as you breathe out. It is perfectly fine if you feel the opposite movement. The important aspect is to tune into a sense of any movement along the spine. You may not initially feel the movement of your energy. However, by first imagining it, you will later actually feel the upward and downward flows of energy along sushumna, the central core of energy.

 

The Truth about Caregiver Guilt

Posted on by
Reply

Concept of accusation guilty unhappy businesswoman personCaregivers can often feel guilty when taking care of a terminally ill family member. Am I doing enough? Did I make the right decision? What if… what if…? Here are ways to recognize your feelings, tips for accepting them, and ways to forgive yourself.

For dozens of tools and techniques to help caregivers feel happier, healthier, more confident, deal with feelings of guilt and find inner peace read “Calmer Waters: The Caregiver’s Journey Through Alzheimer’s and Dementia”

image

Some philosophers and psychologists believe guilt is mental and emotional anguish that is culturally imposed on us. Tibetans and Native Americans don’t even have a word for guilt, which might mean that it isn’t a basic human emotion. Yet, Jews and Christians are very adept at feeling guilty over trivial mistakes, as well as serious blunders.

The first time I felt guilt was when my brother was born. I’m two years older than he, and in 1954 the hospital rules didn’t allow siblings to visit newborns. My Uncle Irv placed me on his shoulders so I could see my mother, who waved to me from the window of her hospital room. I was angry with her for leaving me and I refused to look at her. She waved like the beautiful lady in the fancy red car that passed me by in the Memorial Day parade. But I wouldn’t look at her. The memory is a black and white movie that has replayed itself throughout my life, with the film always breaking at the point when I sullenly turn my head away.

For years afterwards, I would awaken in the night feeling guilty that I didn’t look at her. When I was four years old, I fell out of bed onto the wooden floor of the bedroom I shared with my brother because I was having a bad dream. I don’t recall the dream, but I  remember the ache inside my chest that has always been associated with not doing what my mother wanted me, or expected me, to do.

Over the years, up until my early fifties, I’d have a physical sensation that felt like sand paper or grains of sand inside the skin of my hands that would migrate to the skin and muscles of my arms and torso. Sometimes it felt like my arms and hands were paralyzed or had grown in size. It was hard to move, and the uneasiness of guilt was always associated with the sensation. I recently realized that I haven’t felt those sensations in a very long time.

Maybe I lost those sensations because the guilt of my childhood was replaced by the guilt I felt over placing my husband in a memory care home. I could have taken care of him until the end of his life, but I was drowning in misery and I promised myself I wouldn’t sacrifice everything for this illness. I prayed for his release and my relief, and knew that if I had taken care of him until the end, my own health would have suffered.

I tried to help my husband fight Alzheimer’s by bringing him to healers, holy people, and complementary medicine practitioners. I fed him an organic, whole-foods diet and gave him nutritional supplements, in addition to the prescribed pharmaceutical drugs. I ordered Memantine from Europe before it was FDA approved and prescribed as part of the Alzheimer’s drug protocol by U.S. physicians.

I did all this until I finally realized that my husband needed to take the solitary journey of being a victim of Alzheimer’s disease. Some call it fate and others call it karma. Whatever we name it, no matter how much we are loved and in close communion with family and friends, we have to travel the delicate path of life on our own. When we succumb to illness and disease, it becomes especially painful for others to helplessly stand by and watch, after doing everything humanly possible to assist.

There was always one more “magic bullet” for my husband Morris to try, and yet when I felt the possibility of divine intervention weaken, I began to give up hope and let destiny take its course. The first couple of years after Morris’s passing, the guilt—and grief—would unexpectedly grab me, wrapping its tentacles around my chest. It would twist the insides of my stomach, making it impossible to eat. It would swell into a lump in my throat or tighten a band  around my head, destroying my serenity for an hour or two —or an entire day.

Guilt came in layers, piled up like the blankets I tossed from my bed one by one during a cold winter’s night. The blankets came off as my temperature rose and drops of sweat pooled between my breasts. I shook off the feelings of guilt in a similar way when I heard my therapist’s words in the back of my mind reminding me that I did more than I could do; when I remembered that I’m a mere mortal who breaks and cries when I can’t move one more inch beyond the confines of this physical body; when my heart had expanded to the point where it can’t expand anymore, so it has to contract in order to plow through the walls of pain and deal with the guilt.

Why do I still feel guilt? I feel guilt about not being the perfect wife before Morris got sick. This man adored me and I didn’t reciprocate with a passion that matched his. I feel guilt because I’m alive and he’s not. (Survivor’s guilt is commonly felt by those who share in a tragic event in which the cherished partner dies, leaving the other one to live and put back the pieces of the life they once shared.) I feel guilt about the times I could have spent with Morris watching television or taking a walk instead of running out to be with friends or to dance. Feeling guilt for doing anything to get away from his asking me the same question over and over again, or so I wouldn’t have to watch the man who once stood tall and proud, stoop and stumble like a man way beyond his years.

I hear the therapist’s voice in my head asking, “What would you say to someone who just told you all this?” I’d say, “But you did the absolute best that you could do.” And then I feel better. It’s okay. I’m okay. I really did the best I knew how, and Morris lived longer than his prognosis because of it.

Now, almost eight years after his passing, the guilt appears much less frequently. It hovers momentarily like a hummingbird poking its beak into honeysuckle and hollyhock. The guilt is diluted and flavorless like cream that’s been frozen without added fruit or chocolate chips. It’s a color without pigment, a touch without pressure, a sound without notes. The guilt I feel now is background noise; not noticed until I turn off the other sounds in my world or mindlessly drive my car on a dark, damp day, which is unusual in sunny Colorado. The guilt now appears in various shades of dirty white and brown. It doesn’t reach inside my heart with its claw like it used to. The battle is over, and almost, but not quite, won.

Why do you feel guilty?

  • Do you feel that you aren’t doing enough for your care recipient? Make a list of everything you do for the person you care for. Preparing a meal, shopping for groceries, driving to appointments, making a bed, doing laundry, making a phone call, sitting next to the person, even just giving a hug: the list adds up! You are doing a lot more than you think you are!
  • Are you guilty about your negative feelings? Resentment, anger, grief are all normal. They are just feelings and they aren’t wrong. Feelings are complicated and you are entitled to them. You probably love the person you are caring for but the time you spend is precious and you might rather be outside gardening or hiking or traveling.
  • Do you feel badly about taking time for yourself? Don’t! If you don’t stay well, including eating and sleeping well, there’s a good chance you will get sick. And that is not going to help anyone! Please take some time for yourself. If you are a full-time caregiver, at least take a 15 minute walk every day. Get some respite care. Your local  county social services department can most likely provide you with some options for help.
  • Are you feeling inadequate at a caregiver? The Alzheimer’s Association offers free classes on caregiving. “The Savvy Caregiver” is an excellent five-session class for family caregivers. It helps caregivers better understand the changes their loved ones are experience, and how to best provide individualized care for their loved ones throughout the progression of Alzheimer’s or dementia.

Tips for easing guilt

  • Ask yourself what is bothering you. Talk with a close friend who will not judge you, or with a professional therapist, clergy person, spiritual teacher, or intuitive guide. Talk about your guilt until you feel your body release the tension that is stored in your muscles and cells.
  • Remember that you are human and not perfect. No one expects you to perform with absolute clarity and grace all the time.
  • You cannot control everything all the time. You are doing the best that you can with the information, strength, and inner resources that you have.
  • Have an “empty chair” dialogue by speaking out loud and pretending that your care partner is in the chair next to you. Express your feelings openly and wholeheartedly. Ask for forgiveness if you feel that you wronged your loved one in any way.
  • Write down your thoughts and feelings. Journaling is a wonderful, inexpensive way to release your concerns and worries on paper. It’s available when your therapist and best friend are not, and you can do it anywhere at your leisure.
  • Strong feelings of guilt, remorse, and grief will diminish over time.  If they continue to haunt you, seek professional help.