This support group was operating out
of a church basement and despite having pre-arranged my attendance, I was nervous
about going in. I am not a fan of meeting new people, but at least I had the advantage
of not needing to speak to anyone besides a brief introduction. My experience began
with the leader “Joan”, a kind woman about 60 years old, that shared with me
that she was a caregiver for her mother with Alzheimer's, though her mother had
passed several years ago. “Joan” welcomed my visit and was happy to let me
observe after receiving permission from the five other attendees and informing
them that I was strictly there for observation and that no personal or specific
information would be shared about any of the group members. The other members
consisted of “Carol” who cares for her husband that has non-Alzheimer’s
dementia, “Cheryl” who cares for her mother, “Bob” who describes himself as a long-distance
caregiver for his sister, “Betty” the caregiver for her mother, and “Joe” who
also cares for his mother. As they were told that they were not to interact
with me, only to allow me to observe, I was greeted with small smiles or quick
waves.
The group started out much like any
other social gathering, greeting each other and chatting before settling into
their seats. “Joan” got everyone settled and began the meeting by welcoming
everyone, thanking them for their attendance, and opening the floor for anyone
that wanted to speak. Once they began, they began talking freely. “Carol”
started off by sharing about a clinical trial that she was hoping to get her husband
in to slow the progression of his disease. “Joe” followed, explaining the decline
his mother had recently experienced and how she had asked him “who are you?”
after he had left the room where they were watching TV and returned only
moments later. The rest of the group was quick to offer helpful tips from their
own experience about navigating these “lost moments” and commiserated over the
terrifying feelings when a decline happens.
Interestingly to me was that the
women were clearly more emotional when speaking, tearing up or stopping to take
a breath, the men seemed more stoic, stating the facts of their own situation,
but no less supportive offering a hug or a hand on the shoulder when the person
near them was distressed. It was tough for me as an observer not to chime in or
step up to give someone a hug, and I am not a hugger. The meeting was concluded
by “Joan” asking each member “what do you plan to do for yourself before we
meet again?”
This support group is a sociological
group because the members are all members of the same category, caregivers and
more specifically, caregivers of people with dementia. Additionally, the group
is not run by a psychologist or psychology-based group. The members of the
group meet on a regular basis to discuss the trials of caring for a loved one
with dementia, problem-solving, and seeking support from others that understand
what they are all going through.


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