My grandmother taught me to crochet when I was seven years old. That was 45 years ago, and in the time since, crochet has become something close to a second language for me. It's a way of working through hard things with my hands when words weren't enough. I've always called it my therapist. It's the thing I turn to when life gets loud.
So when my grandmother's dementia progressed to the point where she could no longer stay in her home and she moved in with my uncle, there was a lot to let go of. Her couch was one of those things that wasn't going with her.
I couldn't let it just disappear. So I took her couch and crocheted it, cover to cover, and did a photo shoot with her sitting on it with me. It felt like the right way to hold onto something that mattered. Not just a piece of furniture, but the woman who put a crochet hook in my hands before I could tie my own shoes, and the decades of comfort that skill has given me ever since.
That couch is a tribute. This post is too, but a different kind.
When the Agitation Started
My grandmother is 101 now. Along with the memory loss that comes with dementia, she's developed something a lot of families of people with dementia will recognize: agitation, fear, stress, and anxiety, often rooted in things that aren't actually happening. She'll become convinced that my mother, her own daughter, has died, even though my mother is alive and well. She'll grow distressed over piano music she believes my mother is supposed to bring back to her, even though she hasn't owned a piano in several years. These moments come and go, tied to beliefs that feel completely real to her, even when they have no basis in what's true.
If you've cared for someone with dementia, you know how hard this particular kind of distress is to watch. You can't reason someone out of a fear that feels entirely real to them. It just has to be managed, moment by moment, as gently as possible.
A while back, my aunt (her primary care giver) started using a Neurovana CES device on my grandmother during those moments. And something changed. My grandmother doesn't get worked up the way she used to. It's made a real, visible difference in her day-to-day peace, and in my aunt's, too.
What CES Actually Is
Cranial Electrotherapy Stimulation (CES) is a small, FDA-cleared device that delivers a very mild electrical current through clips on the earlobes. It's nowhere close to something like ECT, which uses far stronger current and requires anesthesia. Most people feel nothing more than a light tingle, if that.
I want to be honest with you about where the research stands, because I think that honesty matters more than a cute story. The research on CES specifically for dementia-related agitation is still early. It's not a large body of evidence, and it's not the kind of thing where I can point you to a stack of big clinical trials and say "this is proven." What does exist is encouraging: a controlled study of institutionalized elderly patients with dementia found real improvements in nurse-reported behavior and sleep after CES use. CES also has a strong overall safety record, with the vast majority of users reporting no side effects at all, which matters a great deal for older adults who are often more vulnerable to the side effects of sedating medications.
But there's a bigger, better-established piece of the picture worth knowing, too. CES is FDA-cleared for anxiety, and that's the area of research where the evidence is genuinely strong: large, well-controlled clinical trials, independent meta-analyses, and consistent results across different patient populations. Here's why that matters for a story like my grandmother's. The brain's stress response doesn't really change based on where the distress is coming from. Whether someone is anxious because of a looming deadline, a panic disorder, or the disorientation and fear that can come with dementia, the same underlying circuitry (the limbic system, the thalamus, the body's fight-or-flight response) is doing the work. CES was designed to calm that circuitry directly.
That's not to say dementia-related agitation and generalized anxiety are identical experiences. They're not, and the causes are different. But the nervous system doesn't file "stress from dementia" and "stress from anxiety" into two separate folders. It's still overwhelm. It's still a body and brain stuck in high alert. So even in a case like my grandmother's, where the dementia-specific research is still catching up, the much larger and stronger body of evidence on CES calming anxiety and stress more broadly gives me real confidence in why it might be helping her, not just that it is.
Why a Non-Drug Option Matters So Much Here
If you've spent any time in the dementia caregiving community, you already know how much this next part matters. Agitation and behavioral symptoms in dementia are so often managed with sedatives or antipsychotic medications. While those medications absolutely have their place, they come with real, well-documented risks for older adults: oversedation, increased fall risk, and cognitive effects that can compound the very confusion families are already trying to ease. Families are often left choosing between watching someone they love struggle, or accepting those risks.
That's part of why something like CES means so much to families like mine. It isn't a medication at all. No pill, no prescription bottle, no drug interactions to track, none of the sedation or fall risk that comes with antipsychotics and sedatives in elderly patients. My grandmother isn't more sedated. She isn't foggier. She's just calmer. For a community that has spent so long navigating the trade-off between managing agitation and protecting an aging body from a medication's side effects, having a real, genuinely non-drug option on the table isn't a small thing. It's the thing a lot of families have been hoping for.
My grandmother's experience is one family's story, not a clinical trial. I share it because it's true, and because if your family is navigating dementia-related agitation the way mine is, I know how much it can mean just to hear that something helped somebody else's grandmother, too.
Two Things I Carry Together
I don't think it's a coincidence that I'm the one writing this. Crochet taught me, decades ago, that comfort is often found in small, repeated, gentle things: a stitch at a time, a loop at a time. Watching a small device do something similar for my grandmother, calming her in a moment of real distress, felt like watching that same lesson show up in a different form.
The couch honors where she came from, and the hands that shaped mine. This post honors where she is now, and the small things that are helping her feel safe.
If you're navigating dementia-related agitation in someone you love, CES might be worth exploring as part of their care.
If you're weighing whether to try CES for someone you love, I understand the hesitation that comes with trying something new, especially for an aging parent or grandparent. But this is about as safe a place to start as I know of. No adverse event has ever been reported with a Neurovana device, across our full 40-year history of clinical use. And if it doesn't end up being the right fit, there's no financial risk either: we offer a 30 day money back guarantee. There's very little standing between where you are now and finding out whether this could help your family the way it's helped mine.
Learn more about Neurovana CES devices at neurovanacalm.com.