Q. Have you heard of any other animal like him?
A. He’s not alone. That’s been one of the most rewarding things about writing this book. I heard from lots of people around the world that they have animal experiences that rival Oscar’s story. You need only listen to hospice workers who go into homes to care for people at the end of life and ask them how they know when someone is close to passing. Lots of times they’ll point to the pets. When the cat or dog starts to mill around, that’s often when hospice workers know someone might be near death.
Q. You made a huge effort to visit with the families who had lost their loved one with Oscar by their side.
A. It was a journey for me. My wife’s mother has been diagnosed with dementia herself, so we’re going through the caregiver-sandwich generation situation ourselves. We entered this process thinking I knew everything there was to know about this disease. I’ve been taking care of patients with dementia and cognitive impairments for many years now. But listening to patients’ families talk about caregiving, it’s opened my eyes to what it all means.
Q. Maybe that was part of Oscar’s plan.
A. That’s very possible.
Q. What kind of impact does Oscar have on family members at the end of their loved one’s life?
A. He’s a great source of companionship to most, whether they were cat people or not. He was a distraction for them. It’s a very lonely journey that family members take with their loved ones in the cases of end-stage dementia. Having Oscar there was a great comfort. They were able to leave at night knowing that their loved one wouldn’t die alone if that happened to be the night.
Q. Do all families welcome Oscar?
A. Some have asked us not to have Oscar on the floor. Initially, we thought we’d just close the door to that room and they’d be fine. But Oscar gets pretty upset if he’s not allowed into a room.
Q. What does he do?
A. He’s been known to pace backward and forward in front of a room and even gone into the room next door and try to scratch his way through the walls. These days, if a family asks to have him not there, we have to take him off the unit.
Q. What has he taught you?
A. What he has to teach all of us is that just being present, being there and validating a life, is so important, even if it’s at the end.
Q. You also write about dementia’s “middle stages” and how hard they are for families.
A. These stages are all about making the difficult decisions and letting go. There’s the difficulty of seeing a loved one who has lost what constituted themselves, their very essence. Family members try to maintain the status quo as much as possible, but that’s not how you cope with someone who has memory impairment and is constantly changing.
Q. What else is so tough?
A. There’s also often guilt for having to move a family member into a nursing home, or guilt of not spending enough time with a loved one going through these stages. There’s even guilt of not wanting to spend time with that particular person because you don’t want to see what this disease is doing.
You can learn to love the person as the disease takes hold, but he or she is different from the person who took you fishing as a child or taught you how to read or listened to your problems while you grew up.
Q. What’s the hardest part of your job?
A. Other than the paperwork?
Q. Paperwork aside.
A. I get so much out of working with older patients. It’s like working with completed canvases, appreciating what someone did with their life. That to me is so much more important than taking care of a child that is a blank slate. Working with families can sometimes be challenging in the current care environment. There’s a lot of things I’d like to do as a provider that I’m not able to do because our health care system isn’t set up to allow me to care for patients in the various stages of dementia.