Jay – My dad
During a health crisis, seniors may exhibit changes in personality, such as increased paranoia, often triggered by fear, confusion, and the stress of illness or loss of independence. These behavioral shifts can manifest as suspicion of caregivers, reluctance to take medication, or anxiety about personal safety, requiring sensitive management and supportive reassurance from family and healthcare providers.
The man who had always been my rock, radiating kindness and strength, was now trapped in a web of paranoia, seeing betrayal and malice where there was none.
One time when my dad was in the hospital with a bad case of COPD, they suspected that he may also have tuberculosis, so they moved him into an “isolation unit.” Gowns, gloves, and masks were required for anyone that entered his room. I saw the most change in his personality at that time and it really threw me off.
He began to suspect people around him were out to get him. He thought that they were keeping him there for malicious reasons and that they were changing the temperature of the room to keep him uncomfortable. Also, he constantly declared that no one came to help him despite him ringing the bell over and over again. There was not much I could say or do to convince him that the reality he was describing in fact did not exist, but it was gut wrenching to see him in such emotional torment.
The day after he was finally moved out of isolation into a shared room in the hospital, he pointed at the patient across the room and said, “That man keeps staring at me. I am not sure what he wants to take from me. I think you should take home all my belongings and even my wedding band. He was looking at that earlier.” He acted so out of character that it felt like someone had taken over the soul in his body.
I left the room and could not hold my tears. The other man’s son was standing there and reached out to me, “Are you okay?”
“Was your dad staring at mine earlier today?” I asked him.
“No, he has been in a coma all day.”
I slipped down to the floor, put my head down and took some deep breaths. I knew I needed to compose myself and go back in to address his other concerns.
My dad then told me, “I keep ringing the bell for help, but I think the doctor does not like me and he must have told all the nurses not to respond to me. No one comes when I ring the bell for help.”
“Dad, I am going to get that fixed for you. Do you believe me?” I told him in the most loving calm voice and a smile on my face. I think he was getting sleepy again, with his eyelids drooping and he responded, “I believe you.” He smiled back at me and went to sleep.
I knew that arguing with him about his paranoid claims would be detrimental to both of us. Instead, I entered his reality and assured him that I was going to take care of things for him, which made him feel heard. In the end, this was all that he needed at that time.
On one hand, it made me feel like I was being sneaky by going into a world that my dad had created, but on the other hand, I knew that was the only place I could meet him. He needed reassurance and the strength of my presence in his created world to achieve tranquility, and that was the role I had to be prepared to fulfill.
Phil and Alberta’s Story
Phil saw his mother, Alberta, as the embodiment of resilience and determination. But after a severe stroke left her partially paralyzed, Alberta’s once sharp mind began to slip into paranoia, a change that was as frightening as it was sudden.
One night, Phil received a panicked call from Alberta. “Phil, someone’s trying to break into the house! I hear them outside!”
Phil rushed over to her house, his heart pounding. When he arrived, he found Alberta outside in a thin nightdress clutching a baseball bat, her hands shaking. “Mom, it’s okay. I’m here now. Let’s check it out together,” he said, taking the bat from her hands.
They walked through the house, Phil checking every door and window. “There’s no one here, Mom. The house is secure.”
Alberta shook her head, her voice trembling. “I heard them. They’re trying to get in. They’re after my best jewelry.”
Phil led her back to the living room and sat her down. “Mom, you’re safe. There’s no one here but us. Let’s make some tea and talk.”
As they sipped their tea, Alberta’s fear began to subside. “Phil, I know you think I’m imagining things, but I swear I heard them.”
Phil took her hand, looking into her eyes. “I believe you, Mom. And I’m going to stay here tonight to make sure you’re safe.”
Throughout the night, Phil stayed vigilant, comforting his mother whenever she woke up in a panic. He knew he couldn’t convince her that the threats weren’t real, but he could offer her the reassurance she needed.
The next day, Phil arranged for a security system to be installed in Alberta’s house, complete with cameras and motion sensors. “This will help you feel safer, Mom. And we can monitor everything from our phones.”
Alberta nodded, a small smile of gratitude on her lips. “Thank you, Phil. I can’t fathom how I’d manage without you.”
As the days passed, Alberta’s paranoia persisted, but the security system gave her a sense of control and safety. Phil continued to visit regularly, offering his presence and support.
Through this hardship, Phil learned that sometimes the best way to help his mother was to meet her in her reality, providing comfort and reassurance in the face of her fears. It was a challenging path, but one that deepened their bond and highlighted the power of empathy and understanding.
Summer and Marco’s Story
Summer always cherished the weekends she spent with her father, Marco, who was once a brilliant engineer and a beacon of wisdom in her life. However, after a traumatic brain injury, Marco began to exhibit signs of severe paranoia that left Summer grappling with the unfamiliar territory of his mind.
One Saturday morning, Summer arrived at her father’s house to find him frantically pacing his living room, muttering to himself. “Dad, what’s wrong?” she asked, trying to maintain a calm tone.
Marco ran to her, his eyes wide with fear and whispered, “Summer, they’ve bugged the house. The government is listening to everything we say.”
Summer took a deep breath, understanding that logic would not penetrate his delusion. “Dad, let’s sit down and figure this out. Can you show me where you think the bugs are?”
Marco nodded and began pointing out various spots around the house—under the table, behind the curtains, inside the lamps. Summer followed him, pretending to inspect each place carefully. “I don’t see anything here, but how about we sweep the house together to make sure?”
They spent the next hour meticulously ‘checking’ every corner. Summer even pretended to make calls to an ‘expert’ to get their opinion. “The expert says it looks clear, Dad, but if it makes you feel better, I can install some new locks and security cameras.”
Marco seemed to relax a bit at the idea. “Yes, that would help. We need to make sure they can’t get in.”
As Summer installed the new locks and set up fake security cameras, she chatted with her father about memories of their camping trips and the engineering projects they used to work on together. It was a way to distract him from his paranoia and bring a sense of normalcy back into their interaction.
“Remember the time we fixed that old transistor radio, Dad? You found that rare replacement part, and when you finally got it working, the sound was so clear it was like we had our own little concert,” Summer said with a smile.
Marco chuckled, a glimmer of his old self shining through. “That was quite the project, wasn’t it? You were so proud when we finished.”
Summer nodded, “And I still am. You taught me so much.”
By the end of the day, the house was ‘secure,’ and Marco seemed more at ease. “Thank you, Summer. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s hard to shake the feeling that someone’s always watching.”
Summer hugged her father tightly. “I understand, Dad. And I’m here for you. We’ll get through this together.”
That night, as Summer prepared to leave, Marco looked more relaxed than he had in weeks. “I don’t know what I would have done without you, Summer.”
Summer smiled, feeling a mixture of relief and sadness. “You don’t have to worry about that, Dad. I’ll always be here.”
In the following weeks, Summer continued to visit regularly, each time reinforcing the security measures and engaging her father in activities that brought back happier memories. It was a constant battle, but one she was willing to fight to keep her father feeling safe and loved.
Through these challenging times, Summer learned that the best way to reach her father was through patience, empathy, and a willingness to enter his world. It was a journey of rediscovery, not just of her father’s needs, but of her own capacity for love and understanding.