Around one in 20 people has attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). It’s one of the most common neurodevelopmental disorders in childhood and often continues into adulthood.

ADHD is diagnosed when people experience problems with inattention and/or hyperactivity and impulsivity that negatively impacts them at school or work, in social settings and at home.

Some people call the condition attention-deficit disorder, or ADD. So what’s the difference?

In short, what was previously called ADD is now known as ADHD. So how did we get here?

Let’s start with some history

The first clinical description of children with inattention, hyperactivity and impulsivity was in 1902. British paediatrician Professor George Still presented a series of lectures about his observations of 43 children who were defiant, aggressive, undisciplined and extremely emotional or passionate.

Since then, our understanding of the condition evolved and made its way into the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, known as the DSM. Clinicians use the DSM to diagnose mental health and neurodevelopmental conditions.

The first DSM, published in 1952, did not include a specific related child or adolescent category. But the second edition, published in 1968, included a section on behaviour disorders in young people. It referred to ADHD-type characteristics as “hyperkinetic reaction of childhood or adolescence”. This described the excessive, involuntary movement of children with the disorder.

In the early 1980s, the third DSM added a condition it called “attention deficit disorder”, listing two types: attention deficit disorder with hyperactivity (ADDH) and attention deficit disorder as the subtype without the hyperactivity.

However, seven years later, a revised DSM (DSM-III-R) replaced ADD (and its two sub-types) with ADHD and three sub-types we have today:

• predominantly inattentive
• predominantly hyperactive-impulsive
• combined.

Why change ADD to ADHD?

ADHD replaced ADD in the DSM-III-R in 1987 for a number of reasons.

First was the controversy and debate over the presence or absence of hyperactivity: the “H” in ADHD. When ADD was initially named, little research had been done to determine the similarities and differences between the two sub-types.

The next issue was around the term “attention-deficit” and whether these deficits were similar or different across both sub-types. Questions also arose about the extent of these differences: if these sub-types were so different, were they actually different conditions?

Meanwhile, a new focus on inattention (an “attention deficit”) recognised that children with inattentive behaviours may not necessarily be disruptive and challenging but are more likely to be forgetful and daydreamers.

Why do some people use the term ADD?

There was a surge of diagnoses in the 1980s. So it’s understandable that some people still hold onto the term ADD.

Some may identify as having ADD because out of habit, because this is what they were originally diagnosed with or because they don’t have hyperactivity/impulsivity traits.

Others who don’t have ADHD may use the term they came across in the 80s or 90s, not knowing the terminology has changed.

How is ADHD currently diagnosed?

The three sub-types of ADHD, outlined in the DSM-5 are:

• predominantly inattentive. People with the inattentive sub-type have difficulty sustaining concentration, are easily distracted and forgetful, lose things frequently, and are unable to follow detailed instructions
• predominantly hyperactive-impulsive. Those with this sub-type find it hard to be still, need to move constantly in structured situations, frequently interrupt others, talk non-stop and struggle with self control
• combined. Those with the combined sub-type experience the characteristics of those who are inattentive and hyperactive-impulsive.

ADHD diagnoses continue to rise among children and adults. And while ADHD was commonly diagnosed in boys, more recently we have seen growing numbers of girls and women seeking diagnoses.

However, some international experts contest the expanded definition of ADHD, driven by clinical practice in the United States. They argue the challenges of unwanted behaviours and educational outcomes for young people with the condition are uniquely shaped by each country’s cultural, political and local factors.

Regardless of the name change to reflect what we know about the condition, ADHD continues to impact educational, social and life situations of many children, adolescents and adults.

Kathy Gibbs, Program Director for the Bachelor of Education, Griffith University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

There was disagreement on social media recently after a story was published about an aged care provider creating “fake-away” burgers that mimicked those from a fast-food chain, to a resident living with dementia. The man had such strict food preferences he was refusing to eat anything at meals except a burger from the franchise. This dementia symptom risks malnutrition and social isolation.

But critics of the fake burger approach labelled it trickery and deception of a vulnerable person with cognitive impairment.

Dementia is an illness that progressively robs us of memories. Although it has many forms, it is typical for short-term recall – the memory of something that happened in recent hours or days – to be lost first. As the illness progresses, people may come to increasingly “live in the past”, as distant recall gradually becomes the only memories accessible to the person. So a person in the middle or later stages of the disease may relate to the world as it once was, not how it is today.

This can make ethical care very challenging.

Is it wrong to lie?

Ethical approaches classically hold that specific actions are moral certainties, regardless of the consequences. In line with this moral absolutism, it is always wrong to lie.

But this ethical approach would require an elderly woman with dementia who continually approaches care staff looking for their long-deceased spouse to be informed their husband has passed – the objective truth.

Distress is the likely outcome, possibly accompanied by behavioural disturbance that could endanger the person or others. The person’s memory has regressed to a point earlier in their life, when their partner was still alive. To inform such a person of the death of their spouse, however gently, is to traumatise them.

And with the memory of what they have just been told likely to quickly fade, and the questioning may resume soon after. If the truth is offered again, the cycle of re-traumatisation continues.

A different approach

Most laws are examples of absolutist ethics. One must obey the law at all times. Driving above the speed limit is likely to result in punishment regardless of whether one is in a hurry to pick their child up from kindergarten or not.

Pragmatic ethics rejects the notion certain acts are always morally right or wrong. Instead, acts are evaluated in terms of their “usefulness” and social benefit, humanity, compassion or intent.

The Aged Care Act is a set of laws intended to guide the actions of aged care providers. It says, for example, psychotropic drugs (medications that affect mind and mood) should be the “last resort” in managing the behaviours and psychological symptoms of dementia.

Instead, “best practice” involves preventing behaviour before it occurs. If one can reasonably foresee a caregiver action is likely to result in behavioural disturbance, it flies in the face of best practice.

What to say when you can’t avoid a lie?

What then, becomes the best response when approached by the lady looking for her husband?

Gentle inquiries may help uncover an underlying emotional need, and point caregivers in the right direction to meet that need. Perhaps she is feeling lonely or anxious and has become focused on her husband’s whereabouts? A skilled caregiver might tailor their response, connect with her, perhaps reminisce, and providing a sense of comfort in the process.

This approach aligns with Dementia Australia guidance that carers or loved ones can use four prompts in such scenarios:

• acknowledge concern (“I can tell you’d like him to be here.”)
• suggest an alternative (“He can’t visit right now.”)
• provide reassurance (“I’m here and lots of people care about you.”)
• redirect focus (“Perhaps a walk outside or a cup of tea?”)

These things may or may not work. So, in the face of repeated questions and escalating distress, a mistruth, such as “Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon,” may be the most humane response in the circumstances.

Different realities

It is often said you can never win an argument with a person living with dementia. A lot of time, different realities are being discussed.

So, providing someone who has dementia with a “pretend” burger may well satisfy their preferences, bring joy, mitigate the risk of malnutrition, improve social engagement, and prevent a behavioural disturbance without the use of medication. This seems like the correct approach in ethical terms. On occasion, the end justifies the means.

Steve Macfarlane, Head of Clinical Services, Dementia Support Australia, & Associate Professor of Psychiatry, Monash University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.