To Lie Or Not To Lie- The Moral Dilemma
There are times in life when the value of truth becomes null and void. Don’t run away yet, I am just getting warmed up. Certainly, we are living in an information age where it is easy to distort truth for one’s own purposes. Politicians have become masters at this game. We have generally become cynical and distrustful of the media and our governments.
But what of our personal values? Miraculously, we still attempt to retain the importance of truth in our relationships. Without it, how can a friendship or marriage survive?
Enter into the world of caregiving for a loved one with dementia. How important is it to tell someone who is confused, agitated, frightened or paranoid the truth? If their minds cannot absorb your information, does it make one a better person to be truthful in a caregiving situation such as this?
It is a profoundly difficult moral issue for those of us who have had loving relationships with a parent or spouse, built on trust and sharing. We feel that we owe the truth to our loved one, and yet that truth can upset them, distress them, confuse them and frighten them. This is a dilemma that most people are fortunate not to be forced to resolve.
A few examples might be helpful. A repeating challenge can occur daily when a dementia patient asks why their deceased father or mother, brother or sister, child, friend, or relative has not come to visit. Immediately, we caregivers are thrown into a moral conundrum. What should we say? Do we tell them that the relative has died? Do we pretend they are on vacation and will return soon? Will the answer cause emotional distress? Can we pave the way for their peace of mind with a diversionary tactic? These questions occur daily in my own home and in the home of every family caring for someone with memory loss.
In the groups where I offer advice and mentoring, it has become clear that many people are deeply troubled by the idea that they are knowingly telling falsehoods. This human value has been deeply entrenched in our feeling of self-worth and it actually distresses many of us who find ourselves in this difficult situation.
In our home, I have tried many different responses to the questions about a loved one having passed away. Bear in mind that whatever response I decide to utter is forgotten within a couple of minutes by Hubby. That in and of itself, has made it easier for me to understand that my response to such questions, is not as critical as I might have imagined. When Hubby asks me if his Mama or Papa or his brothers are still alive, he is hoping that I will say “yes.” But I am not comfortable with that particular lie, so I tell him that they passed long, long ago. His immediate response is always “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep it a secret?” I always respond that not only did I tell him, but that he went to the funeral himself. There are many caregivers who fear that telling this truth, will cause their loved one repeated sorrow at the news. In my experience with Hubby, the sadness has only been fleeting, and then the mind moves elsewhere. I have found that weaving a tall tale about the individual’s reasons for not having been in touch, are really confusing and unnecessary. These extra lies don’t work for me, but there are no hard and fast rules. I do not believe that it is essential to stop our loved one’s from feeling a bit of sadness as we all do when we remember those who have passed. It will not stay with them for a long time as they cannot retain the thought for very long.
Another example from the Hubby playbook: When I am invited to a friend for dinner and will be leaving for a few hours, honesty is rarely the order of the day. I always tell Hubby that I am going out with one particular friend whom he trusts. I always say that I will be taking a taxi or that someone is picking me up in their car. Why not be truthful about it all? It is simply because my goal is not the imparting of information (as he will never remember it regardless of the content), but the calming of an anxious spouse who fears for my very survival. It is deep in his psyche that if anything should happen to me, it would be disastrous for him. Thus, his fears are magnified.
In addition to what I tell Hubby when I am leaving the house, I write him a letter – a few lines telling him where I will be and what time I will return. Whatever I have spoken aloud will be forgotten in a couple of minutes, so the aide can hand Hubby the letter when he enquires about my whereabouts. Then he can read and re-read the note to his heart’s content. The ONLY parts of the letter that are important (vis a vis truth) are what time I will return, and the line at the end which always reads: “I love you!”
There are times when the clock strikes on the hour and if I am not safely back at home, Hubby can go into full attack mode. He will prepare to “get” the man who has kept me out late. No logic. No man. No way to predict whether or not this will happen. It seems that my departure in the evening hours is far more frightening to hubby than when I leave during the daylight to go grocery shopping or meet a friend for lunch.
Perhaps it is a bit clearer now, as to why one who is caring for a loved one with dementia, may need to alter the truth to try to soften the responses over which our loved one has no control. It is not a pleasant necessity. It constantly reminds us that our relationship has irrevocably changed, for what is left of our life together.
One overwhelmed caregiver, wrote: “How can G-d do this to me? What have I done to deserve this? I hate this disease.”
My response today is very different than it might have been three or four years ago. It is simply that I do not believe that G-d is particularly interested in me, so I cannot blame him/her. This is a part of life’s journey along with so many other unfair occurrences. Each of us may live through earthquakes, terrorism, war, tsunamis, illness and loss. It is part of the human condition and we must support one another through the tough times. The support of one another through each of these crises,
be it emotional or participatory, is actually one of the beautiful manifestations of the human potential. In spite of the hardships, it is the most important gift which we can give to one another.
