Casino, Alzheimer's association team up for dementia awareness

The first clue that something was wrong with his grandmother came when Bill Mikus walked with her to a restaurant in Reading that she often visited.

"You want your regular?" the waitress asked.

It turned out the regular was just coffee.

"She doesn't come here to eat?" Mikus asked the waitress, flabbergasted.

He took some time off work to investigate.

His grandmother, who had helped raise him after his mother died, was then in her mid-80s and lived alone.

Her refrigerator was nearly empty. What food was there was too old. In a drawer, he found a bill and some cash wrapped with a rubber band. She said she'd stopped writing checks. A notice in her mailbox threatened to turn off her gas.

Mikus, who is now vice president of human resources for Valley Forge Casino, eventually learned that his grandmother had Alzheimer's disease. Two years ago, at 95, she died.

Mikus was sorry it took so long to notice she needed help. "I wish to God somebody would have caught something and called," he said. And he wished he had known where to go for help.

Mikus sprang at a chance to help others when he heard about the Alzheimer's Workplace Alliance, a program that teaches employees about the fatal brain disease and available services. The casino is by far the largest company ever to join the initiative of the Alzheimer's Association Delaware Valley Chapter. It will publicize Alzheimer's Association information and events to its 1,000 workers and the 100,000 customers in its database.

According to the American Gaming Association, 25 percent of casino patrons are 65 or older. That's a population that surely includes people in various stages of dementia, given how common the condition is. The Alzheimer's Association estimates that almost 196,000 people in the Philadelphia region have Alzheimer's or similar dementias. But even normal brain aging can impair financial decision making.

How will the casino use its newfound awareness to help elderly customers who are lost, confused, or making odd gambling choices?

"We'll delve into that when we work with the Alzheimer's Association," Mikus said. He said his partner, a lawyer, once headed an elder justice project. They share an interest in financial vulnerability and elder care.

"We all have an opportunity, I think, to do the right thing," he said.

Last week, Claire Day, a vice president at the Alzheimer's chapter, taught 35 members of the casino's new "action team" basic facts about the disease. The immediate goal is to help employees better understand family members and friends with dementia.

Sandra Register, who works in communications with guests, showed up dressed in purple, the association's signature color. An aunt and grandmother died of the disease, and she worries about elderly members of her synagogue. "It's a very scary thing for the families as well as for the person with the disease," she said.

She sometimes sees families at the casino with relatives she suspects have dementia. She sees coming there as a loving way to help people connect with an activity they've long enjoyed.

"I want to make sure that our elderly have all the help they can get," she said. "Everybody doesn't have family."

Wendy Campbell, CEO of the association's local chapter, said she hopes the organization can later do more specialized education for groups like the security department. "Right now, we are not focusing on recognizing problems with clients and customers," she said.

She does want the staff to keep Alzheimer's in mind when they see someone who is disoriented or confused. For most people, "the first thought is alcohol or substance abuse," she said. "If that person is 55 plus, that may not be your first good assumption."

Campbell said it will be helpful for employees if their managers understand how difficult it is to be the caregiver for someone with Alzheimer's disease. The organization will offer resources that employees can tap outside of their work hours.

Campbell is excited by the chance to reach a large work force and customer base. Just imagine what that will mean when an older person with dementia wanders away from home. "If I have a thousand people who understand Alzheimer's disease, do you think there might be more eyes and ears the next time we're searching for someone?" she asked.

Amy Zeittlow, an affiliate scholar with the Institute for American Values, did a report last year for the organization called "Seniors in Casino Land, Tough Luck for Older Americans."

After touring four regional casinos, she found the businesses were exceptionally welcoming to older people. Staff members were kind and respectful. Casinos knew how to help people with canes and wheelchairs. "The casinos are treating our seniors the best of probably any entertainment venue in our society," she said.

This, she thought, is a mixed blessing. "The best thing we offer our seniors is to spend all day in a dark room with no windows connected to a machine [slots] that is guaranteed to take your money."

She found that many elderly casino patrons were spending several full days a week playing slots.

She imagined that casino owners could offer an important service to patrons and their families by taking note of elderly customers who exhibit warning signs. She wondered if the loyalty cards that many players have should include emergency contact numbers.

Casinos are legally required to have plans for dealing with compulsive gamblers, but the law doesn't address gamblers with dementia, said Richard McGarvey, a spokesman for the Pennsylvania Gaming Control Board.

215-854-4944 @StaceyABurling