Part one in a series on how people with neurologic disorders open and utilize new channels of expression
I've decided that all older men with gray beards must look
alike, because each week I am mistaken for someone else. But, if I were to shave my beard - which I have worn for over 40 years - I believe that my friends
and colleagues would fail to recognize me. I would be a different person to them because of this small, physical change.
If such a small change affects the way people see me, then the larger mental changes that Alzheimer's patients experience must truly and deeply change the way their loved ones see them. Dr. Daniel Potts, a neurologist at the University of Alabama, has begun studying the concept of "saving face" and preserving the "person" in people with dementia.
Dr. Potts' father, Lester Potts, became an acclaimed watercolor artist after his Alzheimer's diagnosis. He had lost his verbal abilities but could express his feelings through his art. This bolstered his retention of self-worth and dignity. His paintbrush let him bypass the part of his brain that Alzheimer's blocked, and communicate in a new way.
But before we find out more about art and Alzheimer's patients, let's go back to the "face" part of saving face for just a moment.
You are always at least a little surprised that, in reality, they have aged. You might recoil at the thought that they must be thinking the exact same thing.
How is it that most of us instantly recognize someone before they utter a sound? How can we can pick a certain individual out of a large group photo? Large portions of our brain are dedicated to facial recognition and interpretation. What we see may trigger whole sets of emotions, memories, feelings, sounds and even smells. A picture of my grandfather triggers the wonderful aroma of his ever present half-chewed-half-smoked cigar. I can't help but smile when I see his face.
We automatically interpret others' facial expressions, but as people age or develop neurologic disorders like Alzheimer's or Parkinson's disease, they lose
their familiar range of facial expression. We look at or talk to our loved one and we no longer see what we saw before. People with Alzheimer's disease not
only lose verbal abilities, but also lose the ability to truly express their thoughts and emotions with their faces. In turn, we lose the ability interact
with them the way we did in the past.
So, how can we learn what lies behind their eyes? Has the light gone out? Dr. Potts insists, emphatically, "No." He says, "We have to assure ourselves that our loved one is still with us, even though they don't always act like themselves. We do this by meeting them in their present-day world. We have to be open to their new ways of communicating, and help them find novel avenues for this expression."
We tend to preserve a mental image of the person as they were prior to their illness, the way we've known them our whole lives. Think about when you reunite with someone you haven't seen in 20 years. Before you meet with them, you have an image of them from 20 years ago frozen in your memory. You are always at least a little surprised that, in reality, they have aged. You might recoil at the thought that they must be thinking the exact same thing. As our parents age, we continue to see them as the people that we love and in the roles that they played in our lives in the past -- strong, supportive, and knowledgeable.