Engage & Create takes Ignite Sessions to an acute ward at The NHS Whittington Trust....
This week saw the first outing of Ignite Sessions to an NHS Trust acute ward for the elderly. As it turned out, this was a pretty life changing experience. Ignite Sessions have taken on a whole new meaning now. As well as delivering training to frontline staff, I spent time on the wards with some very sick but wonderful older people.
Ignite Sessions are about using art to stimulate conversation. Usually this is done in small groups. The challenges of a hospital ward with people too sick to move meant doing 1-2-1 sessions at the bedside - a new experience!
Here are some stories from my two days at The Whittington Trust (fyi all names are changed):
Margaret - 80yrs this lady was a true Londoner. She told me she'd never been to an art gallery but was interested in the pictures. We spent an hour talking through the paintings about family. Margaret, who was living with dementia, had some really insightful comments about some of the pictures and some very important life lessons to share with me 'buy cheap, buy twice'. So true! At the end of the session she was so excited and said to me 'well I know what I'm doing when I get out of here....visiting a gallery! It's so interesting'......I couldn't believe it, why wasn't someone filming it!! Haha.
Jim - Lying twisted in bed Jim, I was told, had advanced dementia and didn't really speak. Nurses were keen that I tried to communicate with him as they couldn't. As I approached the bed I felt so inadequate with my ipad of artworks. He was barely conscious, what could art do to help this man at the end of his life? Well as it turned out art itself didn't do much, but the mere fact I had a reason to talk to him and ask him if he wanted to look at some pictures started a conversation of sorts. It was more an interaction. He gently grabbed my blonde hair and whispered 'blonde' to me! A word from the man who doesn't speak. After assuring Jim it wasn't out of bottle (!) I wetted his lips with the lollipop looking sponges so we could talk, as he was keen to tell me something. I have no idea what it was. It wasn't important what the subject was. I just stood listening for 15 minutes as his furrowed brow told me all I needed to know...something was annoying him, he was frustrated and wanted to get it out. So I let him. I validated every sound and attempted word. I mirrored his face with my language. Touched his hand to comfort him until he was finally quiet. His eyes were closed most of the time. Art wasn't needed here but this was definitely an Ignite Session - the man who didn't speak didn't stop speaking for 15 minutes. It was incredible.
Robert - At 84yrs Robert was lying pale in bed dozing when I dropped by. He was happy for some company and was a really bright intelligent man, albeit very sick. We talked about the fact his wife and I were both artists, he loved that. I asked if he'd like to look at art with me and said 'that would be so lovely'. He'd told me about family so I chose my module on that subject. We chatted and shared our thoughts and feelings on the artworks. I spent a good 40 minutes with Robert and learnt lots about his time in the middle east and history of the area...fascinating! He did have a cognitive impairment but he is a very intelligent interesting man. As we finished I thanked him for his time and he said 'I'm so glad you came by I feel.....well, stimulated!' Perfect! That is the aim. Cognitive stimulation. I am pretty sure he had a bit more colour in his cheeks too.
Richard - As I walked in to the side room where Richard was lying twisted with a feeding tube I nearly walked out again as he was so so ill I really didn't see how I could help. But of course I marched myself straight back in. Richard was clearly in his last few hours of life and I wanted to make sure he wasn't alone. His family had put a few pictures on the window sill and left some books of poetry. It was shocking to see the framed corporate style portrait photo of Richard, this now tiny man struggling for breath. I introduced myself and said that I had come to share some art with him, but wondered if maybe I could read some poetry instead as there was a book on the side. To my amazement he tried to open his eyes. Bingo! So I flicked through chatting at what was in the book. I found a page turned down so I thought that was a good place to start. The poem was 'I remember, I remember' by Thomas Hood. As I started reading Richard made a noise. He tried again to open his eyes. He was engaged. I then asked him if he'd like to look at some art. Another noise. Yes. So I held the ipad for him to see and started talking through the City in Art series. Derain was a hit. Bright colours, London Bridge, I sensed he liked. Not such a big fan of Boccioni, but more bright colours with Mondrian's Boardwalk Boogie Woogie got another grunt and a long stare. When I'd finished we had been interacting for a good 20 minutes...and I was going to not even try! It was such a privilege to spend that time with him. I left him to rest and he seemed to drift off into a very peaceful sleep.
Here's Richard's favourite poem....never had heard of Thomas Hood, so even Richard at the end of his life taught me something! Thanks I love it :)
I remember, I remember
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon
Nor brought too long a day;
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away.
I remember, I remember
The roses red and white,
The violets and the lily cups--
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,--
The tree is living yet!
I remember, I remember
Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then
That is so heavy now,
The summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow.
I remember, I remember
The fir-trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from Heaven
Than when I was a boy.