Can Improv Help Dementia Caregivers Survive?

You know that caring for a loved one with dementia can leave your mind confused, your body exhausted, and your spirit depressed. Yes. And what if I said there's something simple that might help you survive this journey?

Yes. And what if I said this something is free? Stay tuned.

You're listening to My Spouse Has Dementia, proud to be shortlisted for the 2025 International Women's Podcast Awards.

On this podcast, I share personal stories, occasional interviews, and simple rituals to support caregiving spouses because the odds of our survival aren't good. I'm Zita Christian, writer, life cycle celebrant, widow, my husband had Alzheimer's.

Professionals in the field of dementia and caregivers who have navigated the journey stress how important it is for the caregiver to, you know the words, enter the world of the person with dementia.

For instance, when your loved one insists that today is Monday and it's really Thursday. Or when your loved one gets agitated saying he has to get to work and he retired 20 years ago.

Or when your husband of 40 years looks at you and says, "You seem like a nice woman. Are you married?"  If you're caring for a loved one with Alzheimer's or other form of dementia, chances are you've heard some version of statements like these.

As caregivers, we're told to enter their world. The idea is to avoid correcting or arguing. The hope is to reduce patient anxiety and caregiver frustration.

Instead of insisting or arguing or yelling, we're encouraged to go along with whatever our loved one is saying. And I think that's excellent advice. It does no good to reprimand or lecture or yell or try to teach.

Our loved one can not remember and isn't likely to learn something new. Instead, we're encouraged to enter their world, meet them where they are, agree with them. But that can feel like lying, and for some of us, that's a hard line to cross.

Not long ago, I interviewed Marty Schreiber, former governor of Wisconsin and author of the memoir My Two Elaines. You can listen to my conversation with Marty in episode 27, and I'll put a link in the show notes.

He talked about how much better things were when he agreed with his wife even when, well, especially when she said something that wasn't at all accurate. In those situations, Marty calls agreeing with his wife Elaine, therapeutic fibbing.

To get comfortable with therapeutic fibbing, we need to change our perception. Because there's no logic to the frame of reference our loved one might have at any given moment, we need to learn to improvise. How?

Take an improv class. In other words, learn to play. My podcast coach David Hooper of Build a Big Podcast encourages everyone in the group to take an improv class.

He said it will help us develop interviewing skills, sharpen our sense of humor, and find our balance when facing the unexpected. Like when the guest doesn't show up, or shows up drunk, or shows up with a gun that goes off during the interview.

Now, for the record, I have never had any of those experiences, but I do know of podcasters who have. A few days ago, I was talking with my nephew, Stephen Gillikin.

He lives in Los Angeles, California, and works on the television series NCIS Origins, and before that, Criminal Minds. He's a founding member of an LA improv team, and he's the creator of a free virtual improv class.

The virtual class started five years ago. It meets on Zoom twice a week. In these last five years, more than a thousand people have participated in Stephen's classes.

They come from all walks of life and from all over the world. One man participated from his hospital bed. You can find my nephew on Instagram at Gillikis.

That's G-I-L-L-I-K-I-S. We talked about how using improv techniques might help a dementia caregiver. And Stephen said that in general, using improv techniques helps people socialize and interact with each other.

He added that although improv is not therapy, it can feel therapeutic. At the heart of improv is the freedom to play. You simply respond to everything with
"Yes, and."

In an improv class, people are often put into pairs, and the facilitator sets the scene. For example, Marcia and Judy, you're both lost in a jungle. Then Marcia begins, We've got to find the pink polka dotted butterflies.

Judy responds, "Yes, and we need to find them before it gets dark." Marcia replies, "Yes, and we have to film them having dinner." Judy says, "Yes, and pay attention to which butterfly is in charge."

Marcia says, "Yes, and we have to wear our pink polka dotted shirts, so we'll blend in." Then these two women go back and forth, each building on what the other said, each responding with, "Yes, and."

Does it sound silly? Sure, and that's okay.

I don't have to tell you how much it hurts to see the person we love get agitated. To me, it always seemed like Dick was afraid of something.

Someone would steal our recycle bin, or he'd have to pay for something, and all he had in the world was $14. Or a neighbor was going to call the police because he tried to get into her home.

I live in a small condominium complex, and all of the units have the same front door. That incident of trying to get into the neighbor's house was real. He was just two doors off, but my neighbor was not going to call the police.

We can't change what's going on in the mind of the person we love, but using improv can change what's going on in our mind. Your loved one says something that's factually incorrect. I remember pointing to our neighbor, Angel.

Dick got all excited and said, "Hey, that's my brother, Albie." Now I could have said, "Oh, Dick, you're so messed up. That's not Albie. He died many, many years ago." I said, "Yes. And Albie's so excited to see you. Let's have lunch and then go talk to him."

Can you feel the difference in the energy of those two responses? Think about how your loved one might feel hearing each response.

Take a moment and say each of those responses out loud. Pretend you're an actor in Hollywood. Put some emotion into your words.

How do you feel saying, "You're so messed up. That's not Albie." How do you feel saying, "Yes, and Albie is excited to see you too."

Figuring out what to say after you say, "Yes and" is what improv will teach you. In improv, the "yes and" ensures that the story continues. In dementia caregiving, saying, "Yes and" has the potential to do several things.

For one, it can diffuse tension, because you're agreeing with your loved one. You're not arguing. "Yes and" can create a connection.

Just the sound of conversation can be an anchor to a person who feels adrift, like so many people with dementia do. The words,  "Yes and" can help your loved one feel heard.

I can only imagine how frightening it must be for a person with Alzheimer's who is struggling to communicate but can't form words. Just a jumble of syllables.  "Yes and" is also a form of redirecting that keeps our loved one involved.

Other forms of redirecting seem jarring, and I have mixed feelings about them. I'm still trying to sort out my thoughts on all that. What I do feel strongly about are the words, Don't you remember?

That question is not helpful. It only frustrates both of you. It frustrates your loved one because, no, your loved one does not remember.

And more to the point, chances are your loved one cannot remember. To me, asking, Don't you remember? is hurtful.

So educate your friends and your family members. Tell them don't ask that question. And if you hear yourself asking, Don't you remember?

Or don't you remember? Or don't you remember? It might be because you haven't yet accepted the heavy and horrible truth that Alzheimer's is fatal. There is no cure.

 The depressing weight of that reality makes self-care critical. Okay, now the essence of what I'm about to say is not new.

What's new is the way I'm reframing it. That's what writers do. And while I have no medical credentials to back this up, I do think that this reframing can genuinely help us.

So here we go. I think if caregivers learn the make-believe skills of improv, we will feel more comfortable entering into the dementia world of our loved one. We'll be actors.

Change the phrase, enter their world, to fit into their world. And see what happens when you learn how to fit into your loved one's world instead of arguing the facts. You lower the emotional temperature.

You ease your loved one's anxiety. And maybe, just maybe, when you fit into your loved one's world, you lower your own stress.

Stress is one of the reasons approximately 40% of family dementia caregivers die first, as in before the loved one with dementia.

See, I think when it comes to caring for a spouse with dementia, the more we can fit into our loved one's world, the more we lower our stress and improve the chances that we will survive the caregiving journey.

In my own experience and that of friends who are caring for spouses, our survival is not only about how physically strong we are or how emotionally resilient we are or how spiritually connected we are or how much support we have or how much support  we have while we're in the eye of the caregiving storm.

Because the challenge to our survival isn't over when our loved one dies. In caring for a spouse with dementia, we're on high alert for years, right up until our caregiving stops.

Anticipatory grief becomes traditional grief. For some of us, complicating that grief are painful memories, regrets for what we did or didn't do. I think of that as the aftershock of caregiving, and we need to survive that too.

Now bring all that back to improv and using those techniques to help us fit into the world of our loved one. In the world of dementia caregivers, I see that being able to fit into our loved one's world is what survival of the fittest is all about.

The art of improv is a simple tool that doesn't involve drugs. If there's a way we can use improv to ease the anxiety of our loved one, I want to try it. If improv is a form of self care, I definitely want to try it.

So I ask you, have you ever taken an improv class? Would you join an improv class if it were limited to 15 or 20 people and every participant was a family dementia caregiver? And if it was taught by my nephew?

And if the class were free? Donations are of course appreciated, but they are not required. You might like the class so much that you'd want to come again, and that would be fine too.

I'm working with my nephew Stephen Gillikin to see if we can make such a class happen. It would really help first though to let me know if you're interested, please. You can write to zita@myspousehasdementia.com or leave a message on the website.

There's a simple form right there. It's like an email. I don't have an assistant. No one sees my messages or emails, but me.

If you're a member of a support group, please tell them about this podcast, particularly this episode. Tell your doctor to tell all of the doctors your loved one sees.

From my experience, doctors want to help, but their tools are limited. And wouldn't it be something if we could learn a technique that's simple, fun, free, and could genuinely help our loved one and help us survive?

In the meantime, right now, draw a heart on the palm of your hand, press your palm to your heart, and say out loud, and the out loud part is really important, "I'm doing the best I can." I know you are.

And finally, when I say, take good care of yourself, those words aren't fluffy, they're fierce, because we need to survive. Thanks for listening, all the way to the end.