Andrew Beeston / Flickr
'Imago Dei' in a Nursing Home
Imagine getting in your car to head to the grocery store and realizing that despite the countless times you've made the trip, you no longer know how to get there. Or picture this scenario: you're convinced you're living in your childhood home with your parents, only to have a stranger announce that this is actually an assisted-living facility, and your parents are long dead. Or worse yet, imagine having someone call you Mom and being certain you've never seen this person's face in your life.
This is the reality for more and more adults in the U.S. The Department of Health and Human Services launched a new website, alzheimers.gov, in response to a skyrocketing number of older adults with symptoms associated with dementia and Alzheimer's disease. According to the most recent numbers, 35 million Americans now suffer from dementia, including approximately 5 million with Alzheimer's.
As medical advances and technology help us live longer, we as a culture—and specifically as Christians—are faced with increasingly complex end-of-life issues. Memory-related illnesses are among the most devastating—both for those with the diagnosis and for those who love them.
As people who champion the core value that human beings are made in the image of God (Gen. 1:27), Christians have historically made a bold, if not always graceful, stance regarding beginning-of-life issues. The Christian pro-life message has its nuances depending on which niche group you talk to, but at its core, the stance is fairly straightforward: life begins at conception. Personhood is granted not through what babies contribute but through the inherent value bestowed on them by their Creator— Imago Dei.
But for the 35 million people who are gradually being stripped of their personhood one memory at a time, there doesn't seem to be much of a unified rallying cry. Most of us would give verbal assent to the idea that life ends at death, not before, and we shake our heads at European countries such as Switzerland, where physician-assisted suicide is legal and clinics enable those with debilitating diseases such as Alzheimer's to "die with dignity."
But in practice, does our own culture demonstrate a similar devaluing of personhood? Do our actions indicate that deep down we believe life is worth less when an older adult can no longer live independently or contribute to society? Do we consider people less valuable the day they can no longer feed and toilet themselves, the day they fail to recognize the face that stares blankly back at them in the mirror? How can someone have dignity if they don't even have a sense of their own identity?
The Seminary Gender Gap
RSS
Twitter
Facebook
Pinterest
Comments
Dan Elliott
Thank you, Stephanie, for this beautiful article about how we can care for those with dementia, and how we can care for those we know who are providing care . . . or sitting by not knowing how to deal with the darkening confusion and the deepening loss. In your story of your grandfather I feel the pain of that moment when a person always so bright and capable has become unable to express himself as he could. For me this is a generation closer. Three months ago my mother, Helen, died at 86, more than 13 years after having been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. During those years my seven siblings and I watched her by stages lose access to her ability to write, to choose her activities, to tell stories, and even to speak. So painful, and yet we weren't grieving without hope. What joy now to think of her fully restored and, even better, transformed from her weak body into a glorious one like Jesus' (see Philippians 3:21). God's best to you and your family in the days ahead.
Stephanie Rische
John, thanks for sharing your story about your father. There certainly aren't easy answers about care for a loved one. You are right...the grief of losing someone with a memory-related illness is gradual and torturous...you lose the person a piece at a time. Thanks for your comment.
Stephanie Rische
Thanks so much for your thoughts, Terry. I grieve with you over the loss of your aunt...it must have been so heartbreaking to hear her say, "Am I real?" Praise God that we have the assurance that in Christ we are real, even when all evidence points to the contrary.
John Holmes
There ares some issues here which need discussion. It is 12 months since my father died, sure at 100.8. We lived watching him decline for the last 12-15 years till he was in a secure ward at a nursing home with 24/7 care. You watch the decline. With a clean death there is the grief but it is finished. As mentioned above, the once competent man vanishes into disjointed stories, and frustration. You are locked into a process with no short term end in sight. You become their memories, in the process you will find out things you do not know, re their history, but its like a jigsaw, how does it fit together. Later you may not be recognized as well, more grief. At what time do you switch from 'all heroics' to 'Tender Loving Care' which includes a knowledge that death may come sooner, yet the quality of life will be better till then. Australian healthcare removes the $ problem so what is best??. Active TLC, torture by medical procedure, or neglect by those who cannot cope.
Terry Adams
Well stated, Stephanie. I've long questioned the disparity in our pro-life views - championing for the unborn while allowing the elderly to be warehoused (that's harsh, I know, but life in a nursing home can be harsh, too) out of sight and mind. I cared for an aunt with dementia; she did not know me for the last year of her life even though she had helped raise me. One day, a few months before her death and after she had ceased verbal communication, she looked me square in the eyes and said, "Am I real?" It makes me cry - to this day - to think of the confusion and haze through which she was trying to make sense of her life. Thank you for speaking up for those who have lost the ability to do so for themselves. Blessings to you, your grandfather, and your family as you see this journey through.
*