The Art Gallery of Hamilton is now offering a lower sensory experience for those with dementia and other accessibility needs

The Art Gallery of Hamilton is now hosting Dementia-Friendly Days so that those affected by dementia or other sensory-sensitivity issues can enjoy the exhibits in a quiet, calmer environment during non-public hours.

The AGH is located downtown on King St. West. From 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. on the third Thursday of every month, the gallery reduces sound levels and sensory stimulation for drop-in, free, self-directed exhibition tours.

Laurie Kilgour-Walsh, head of Programs and Learning at AGH, explained this initiative's origin. Specialized programs for people living with dementia have already been implemented at the gallery for over 10 years, so the AGH has experience creating a safe and supportive environment. Due to this success, the gallery has wanted to expand to general access for people living with dementia, for more casual opportunities to explore the exhibitions.

Beyond lowering sensory stimulation, the AGH also offers other supports on their dementia-friendly days, with staff available to help attendees navigate the building or to chat about the exhibits. This gives visitors the freedom to choose their level of interaction with others, for a more controlled experience.

The building will also have extra signage and directions, as well as a security team, to ensure that visitors are as comfortable as possible.

As a dementia-friendly initiative, this program is unique because it is not a choreographed and facilitated experience. Rather, it is experienced however the visitor chooses.

Kilgour-Walsh has explained that reception has been slow to begin, especially with the winter weather that discourages people from coming out. However, she anticipates that once the warmer weather arrives and more people are aware of Dementia-Friendly Days, regular participants will come in more often.

Kilgour-Walsh hopes that people will feel comfortable regularly coming to the gallery after this experience.

"What I hope is that people will feel that the gallery is a place [where] they can come as they are. [Visitors] can function as they need to...we don't expect our participants necessarily to be quiet as an example. However, their experiences are welcome, so hopefully we'll see them come back [often]," said Kilgour-Walsh.

This initiative is great for any students who have sensory sensitivity issues or have loved ones with dementia, explained Kilgour-Walsh.

"By offering a safe space like this, it also allows caregivers and friends and family members a chance to get out and to have those experiences and to really share them with the person that they love as well. So there's a lot of relationship building that goes on in this," said Kilgour-Walsh.

By offering a safe space like this, it also allows caregivers and friends and family members a chance to get out and to have those experiences and to really share them with the person that they love as well. So there's a lot of relationship building that goes on in this.

Laurie Kilgour-Walsh, Head of Programs and Learning, Art Gallery of Hamilton

Kilgour-Walsh also added that the program has been funded by a grant from the province of Ontario and for students to keep an eye out for other opportunities the AGH has to offer, such as other programming or educational initiatives that might be of interest.

For more information on the schedule when Dementia Friendly Days are held, or to optionally pre-register for tours, visit here.

By: Steven Chen

On Tuesday, Sept. 22, a public talk was held at McMaster Innovation Park addressing the latest findings in Alzheimer’s research. The talk, called “The Science of Alzheimer’s: Where Are We Going,” was directed as part of McMaster’s Optimal Aging Event Series.

The Optimal Aging Event Series is a program initiated by the McMaster Health Forum and focuses on sharing the insights of experts in the scientific community with the intent of promoting better provision of service and care for the aging population. One the key themes of the program is to ensure that the aging population remains healthy, active and engaged in society.

The talk featured Jay Ingram, a renowned Canadian broadcaster and author, known for hosting the CBC Radio program Quirks and Quarks and the television show Daily Planet.

“I’m interested in all aspects of Alzheimer’s, from the personal to the scientific. The audience that McMaster serves is one that likely already has a personal connection to Alzheimer’s but might not be familiar with the science. It may be important to know something of the disease with which you’re dealing,” said Ingram.

His keynote talk brought out central ideas from his newly published book, The End of Memory: A Natural History of Aging and Alzheimer’s. In it, he combines a historical perspective with practical details of leading research on the disease. “I set out to answer what I believe are the three questions everyone has about Alzheimer’s,” said Ingram. “These are: Am I going to get it? What can I do to mitigate my risk? And if all else fails and I do get it, what is in store for me?”

The event also featured Dr. Christopher Patterson, who contributed additional content with regards to the state of Alzheimer’s research. “In recent years there has been a surge in investment into Alzheimer’s disease,” said Patterson. “Unfortunately, many trials of promising medications have been unsuccessful, but more and more is being learned about the genetics and biochemistry of Alzheimer’s, together with new knowledge about risk factors and ways to delay or even prevent the disease.”

Considering the prevalence of Alzheimer’s in our aging society, it is hardly surprising that raising awareness is absolutely critical. With around 700,000 Alzheimer patients in Canada at present and a projected increase of 100 percent in the next fifteen years, the statistics themselves underline the scale of this issue.

“[Our healthcare system] is already strained to provide proper care for patients, and there are no new drugs on the verge of becoming part of the treatment regimen,” said Ingram. “There needs to be changes to [the research] and national policy of the disease.”

Additional information on “The Science of Alzheimer’s: Where Are We Going,” and upcoming events may be found on the project’s website.

Photo Credit: McMaster Health Forum

Brianna Smrke

The Silhouette

 

First, they plugged my ears with cotton batting. Then, they made me wear safety goggles with lenses obscured by packing tape. Popcorn kernels were tossed into my shoes. My fingers were taped together. A heavy weight was strapped on my left wrist and ankle. Finally, a spoonful of some vaguely sweet, unpleasantly chunky paste was thrust into my surprised mouth. They told me it was medication my doctor had prescribed.

Tottering, unable to really see, kernels digging into my feet, I was escorted to a room. On my way there, my accompanier ran through a list of ten tasks I had to do while I was in the room. The last one sounded garbled, and just as I was about to ask her to repeat them, I was put in the room and the door was shut.

I was hit by a wave of sound. The TV was blaring a musical from the ‘40s, while the radio played soft rock at a level that should never be heard. The lighting was dim – but since I really could only see out of the corner of one of my eyes it didn’t make too much difference.

What I could see was disorienting. There were clothes strewn all over tables and plastic animals, postcards and books on beds.

Worst of all, there were people watching me. Watching, and recording, but ignoring me. If I asked a question, if I said I was lost, they turned away. Alone, I tried to remember what I had to do. Time seemed to dilate.

Then I remembered one of my tasks – to write a note about how I was feeling. It seemed simple enough, until I realized that I couldn’t see, or hold a pencil in my dominant but disabled hand. Taking the marker in my right, I scribbled “I am disoriented and exhausted.” My feet hurt, my left arm was dragging and I had again been fed a slippery-tasting medicine – I was simply too defeated to argue.

But then, the door opened. “You’re done now, Brianna,” said Marian Cummins from the Hamilton-Halton Alzheimer’s Society. “How did that feel?”

I had just experienced the Virtual Dementia Tour (VDT). The VDT lets you step into the brain of an aging person who has Alzheimer’s disease or some related form of dementia. All the handicaps I had been subject to – the corn kernels in my shoe, the obscured vision, the plugged ears – mimic the limitations these people face in trying to understand what is happening around them and to them. The chaotic, unfamiliar room modelled the hyperactivity of some areas of the Alzheimer’s affected brain, which can make even commonplace surroundings seem frighteningly alien.

The observers were meant to represent overworked nurses and personal support workers in long-term care facilities, who either cannot understand the sometimes garbled phrases of individuals with dementia or are too busy to listen.

The VDT was first developed by Dr. P.K. Beville, but has since been adapted by Alzheimer’s societies around the world, including Hamilton-Halton. The event I attended on Feb. 14 was intended for Mo-Mac Nursing students.

After running through the tour myself, I became an observer, monitoring other students as they struggled to do things we would not even think twice about – folding laundry, pouring a glass of water, even turning on a lamp. I had to ignore their calls for help and record which of the behaviours commonly associated with dementia – like wandering, or losing one’s train of thought – they showed.

It was draining, but also fascinating. I could see the nurses slowly realizing, just like I did, that the world dementia patients experience, the world they live in, is much different than ours. It is a strange and tiring world, a world in which they are not, for whatever reason, treated with respect. It’s a world in which too much is asked too quickly.

It’s also my grandfather’s world. Going through the VDT, I couldn’t help but think of how little I had really understood of what his life – what his daily experiences – must be like. I cringed when I thought of myself getting frustrated with him repeating similar stories, or losing his train of thought. If anything, going through the VDT made it easier to understand why people with dementia behave like they sometimes do. They’re just people who’ve been pushed into a room with blaring soft rock and asked to write a note with a hand that won’t work and eyes that won’t focus. They’re just people who deserve respect and a genuine effort to engage with them on a level they can still reach – not to be called ‘Dearie’ and fed medication, then ignored.

“It’s powerful, isn’t it?” asked Cummins as I was shaking the corn kernels out of my shoes. I weakly nodded, still recovering from the brief time I had spent in the brain of a person with dementia, with the knowledge that what I learned had changed my thinking forever.