Posted under Marketing Massage for Special Populations & Massage for Elders & General
Hello again! I first want to say thank you to those of you who offer your comments to this blog. I enjoy hearing perspectives from others who serve elders and those in end-of-life care.
Last week during the Compassionate Touch® Practitioner Training in Orlando I was reminded of one of the aspects of this work that is deeply rewarding. Elaine, an LMT at the training, had a session with a gentleman who is living with advanced Alzheimer’s Disease. He spends hours in a “geri-chair” and requires assistance for all aspects of his personal care. Communication is very limited and voluntary movement is difficult for him. His wife comes to the facility daily to assist with his care. She reluctantly gave permission for him to have a Compassionate Touch® session, stating that she “didn’t know how he would do with the touch.”
The therapist began her session slowly, focusing attention and introduced her touch. He appeared receptive and she proceeded to massage his hands and arms. He responded with eye contact and his breathing relaxed. His wife hovered nearby observing this interaction and told Elaine that he enjoyed having his scalp rubbed. The therapist moved around the chair and offered him a head and neck massage. He became obviously relaxed and had a little smile on his face. At the end of the session, his eyes were clear and smiling. After the session ended, his wife asked Elaine if it would be OK for her to massage his hands and that she was grateful for the tender, caring touch he had just recieved.
We often have a chance to model gentle, sensitive massage for family caregivers. It seems they often need “permission” to offer this kind of contact. Watching a session with a skilled massage therapist shows that touch becomes a meaningful way to connect with their loved one. When we model touch and massage, we become the space holder for both the elder and the family to find healing in the power of human contact– no words are needed in this profound communication. Both lives are uplifted.
I encourage you to invite family members to occasionally be present during your sessions to create opportunity for them to learn by your example. Remember, we all create that stillness in motion. Thank you for all you do for our profession and for those you serve.
Until next time, I wish you well.
Ann

Paul Norden, LMT on 30 Jun 2008 at 12:06 am #
Dear Ann and All,
One of the most profound experiences in connection I’ve had working with a friend and elder client was with Fern. Fern was in early mid-stages of Parkinson’s syndrome when I was introduced to her. She had never had massage before, but having a free spirit and wonderfully wry sense of humor, Fern was fully open to it. While in our early touch sessions, she revealed one afternoon that she often worried uncontrollably about things. We talked about the nature of worry itself, how it’s completely useless and, like a thief, steals away the present moment from us, and that the present moment is all we truly have. As the weeks and months went by Fern and I talked about her life and an undeniable respect, humor and trust developed between us. When she entered a care facility after a brain hemmorage, I asked if during our session I could read Rumi and play guitar for her. She gracefully accepted with a nod and a smile. The last time I saw Fern, she had been unable to speak for some time and had been bed ridden for almost two months. I arrived at her retirement community apartment with her her two nieces, her only family, and her live-in skilled caretaker. I said hello to everyone but wasted no time pulling up a chair next to Fern’s bed as our eyes locked with each other and her hand slid out from under the sheets to meet with mine. As we gazed at each other, my heart swooned as I could plainly see the light and the smile in her eyes, though she could not form much of an expression with her facial muscles anymore. Then she took her other hand and raising it toward the ceiling, followed it with her gaze until it was pointing straight up. Then she closed her eyes and with a little shake of her head, looked back at me, to tell me, “I’ve had enough, I’m ready to go.”
I said goodbye to Fern that afternoon and thanked her for all the wonderful time we spent together each week for over a year. She passed away two days later.
My hope is that many are as fortunate to experience this kind of precious connection with someone facing death and dying because it has the power to transform our ordinary view.
with many blessings,
Paul Norden, LMT
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[BLOCKED BY STBV] Continuing Care Retirement Community on 19 Aug 2008 at 10:03 am #
Continuing Care Retirement Community
Thanks for creating this blog. I thought it was a very interesting read. It is so interesting reading other peoples personal take on a subject.