Don't Tell Them: On a Need to Know Basis

Ned, the young intern on the locked ward, was concerned because he knew his elderly patient was regressing very quickly.

"I tell family members about patients on a need to know basis, Franklin," replied Ned, apologetically.

"Don't tell them anything!" Franklin, the sickly, old man yelled at him, at the top of his lungs. "My son has not been around for ten years; neither has anyone else in the family!"

"Franklin, I should tell them. They need to know how you are doing."

"No, they don't. Leave me alone! Get out of here!"

"I am trying to help you."

Several nurses in the hospital corridor heard Franklin yelling. Increasing memory loss, growing confusion and repeated bouts of anger were his typical pattern of behavior now. He had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease and was showing increasing evidence of dementia.

"His son and family come to see Franklin every day," one of the nurses commented quietly, as Ned walked out of the room shaking his head. "He does not remember them, or their visits."

"It must be rough to feel so terribly alone and totally isolated from his family," replied Ned. "I wish there was some way that I could help him."

"Maybe there is," suggested one of the older nurses, who knew that pets were allowed to visit patients, as a form of therapy.

"Rover!" Franklin cried out, with huge tears running down his cheeks, several hours later. It almost brought his son to tears too, as he watched his father hug the young collie that he had brought with him. Rover was the name of the dog that Franklin had when his son was born. The son, now nearly sixty five, had grown up with Rover at his side.