Paraphasia,... radio or telephone? (and strangers)

My mother once insisted that someone had called her on the radio. I knew what she was referring to, but I asked her questions about this "radio" device of which she spoke. I was trying to coax from her the word she was failing to produce.  She was actually talking about the telephone, but the word would not come to her, no matter how I questioned her. This was not harsh questioning at all, in fact we were chuckling throughout the conversation.... she was laughing because she knew that I understood what she meant to say, and I was laughing with her.

My mother had Alzheimer's Disease. I have written about this before, and will do so again.... Occasionally the Alzheimer's Disease brought forth what is called Verbal Paraphasia.  (Paraphasia definition and examples)  Radio for telephone. Shoe for foot. And once all she could come up with was "my other daughter", when she was actually thinking of her granddaughter -- and it took me a while to move on to the next generation as I tried to help her tell me what she was talking about.  She had me, of course, and a step-daughter she raised, and she referred to her third husband's adult daughters as "step-daughters" as well, so I rattled off 5 names, each of which elicited a "no" response. I stopped questioning her at that point and changed the subject for a few minutes, but she was distracted so I finally spoke the name of the granddaughter.  Then she replied with a hearty "yes". And when I said, "she is not your daughter, she is your granddaughter," my mother let loose an emphatic "Thank God!" and I had to laugh at that.  (Sorry, niece, if you are reading this, but that is what grandma said.)



My favorite story about her Alzheimer's induced confusion, I have to say would make my mother laugh out loud:
I arrived at the nursing home, early one Saturday, and the first thing my mother told me was that "a strange man was here". I immediately looked at the large wall calendar, which bore a notice asking visitors to please write their name on the date of their visit, so she would know who had been to see her. No male name, no name at all for the previous week. I was perplexed. A "strange" man. That is a little frightening coming from an old woman with Alzheimer's. My first question was, "did he touch you?" "NO! He didn't touch me, he was strange." I thought about that for a minute, and thinking of the words from a song asked, "funny-haha, or funny-strange?" Mother simply repeated, "strange". I searched my memory and suddenly realized who it must have been. My next question was, "Did he sing to you?" and she smiled a "yes. He was very silly." ... "Was it Pastor Bergen?" she said that she didn't know, but he did say The Lord's Prayer with her.  "That was Pastor Bergen." I told her, "he can be very silly." By the time Pastor had arrived at Mother's room he had visited with any number of other people, and he could get rather wound up in the frivolity of trying to spread a bit of cheer to people in a nursing home.  I can still imagine it: PB (as he called himself) swinging into the room singing a song, or simply singing a "hello" to my mother. She must have loved that! She would have been so delighted with cheerful singing that she would have forgotten exactly who the man was -even if he introduced himself to her.

I feel compelled to share these stories, partly because people need to know: Alzheimer's Disease or Dementia, is kind of a blanket diagnosis.  I mean it does different things to different people.  Sadly some seem to be trapped in a bad memory, and rant on and on about seemingly nonsensical things.  Some are simply silent, others angry.... and a few, like my mother, are docile and cooperative.  Most probably have crystal clear memories of events long past. And sometimes they can be extremely lucid. I was told that an aunt of mine who had Alzheimers would experience moments of lucidity during which she would state that she was frightened. That is so sad, and I am glad that she lived with her daughter, who would hug her and tell her not to worry.


I would bring the Reader's Digest with me on my weekly visits.  During the previous week I read the funny stories (Laughter: The best medicine, All in a Day's Work, Points to Ponder), a monthly wealth of laughter. Instinctively I knew what mother would laugh at and what she would pan.  With relish I would produce that Reader's Digest and prepare for her laughter. She would lean closer to listen.  Later, in an email to family members I would describe her condition and what we talked about... and the finish of the email would be titled: "Laughed Out Loud", followed by the funny story she liked the best.  It was what she laughed at that really revealed her condition, not anything else I could write.

Similar to paraphasia:

click here for more information /wiki/Malapropism

for funny examples-of-malapropism click here  (mother would have loved the Archie Bunker-isms, but she was no fan of Yogi Berra)