GETTING WORSE

In church last Sunday, Darling asked me 3 or 4 times.  “Is this morning or evening?”  Could he not recognize that we were in church?  We never go to church in the evening.  How will it all end?  There is a hollow place in my stomach.

FRIENDS

Friends are wonderful.  Yes, we all know this but sometimes it needs to be said out loud. 

Houston friends were in town and called us for dinner.  Darling asked 5,280 times:  Now who is coming?  Where will we meet them?  What time?  Where do they live?  Etc!!!  After answering about 200 times I wrote it on the dry erase board for him.  Yes, I am slow.  Then when he would ask, I would say to read the board.  I noticed a twitch in my leg.  Twitch.  More questions. Twitch.  More questions.  Twitch.  I am even getting tense telling about it. 

They finally got here.  My jaws were clenched.  We went to McClains.  (Good old McClains.)  Our good friend Tom even met us there.  Tom’s wife could not come; she was at home with her mother in her caregiver capacity.  She has been a caregiver for the 20 years we have known her and even before that.  She puts the rest of us in the shade as caregivers.    

We talked.  We told each other about upcoming wedding plans for our granddaughters.  We heard old stories about motorcycle accidents, restoring cars, square dancing.  I noticed my jaws had unclenched.  Darling kept ordering more beer.  Then he forgot he ordered it so when the waitress brought it, he thought she was  reading his mind.  We were all laughing including Darling.

When the evening was over I realized I was smiling, relaxed, okay with the world. 

That is what friends can do for us.

CHANGE

Change is all around us; it is part of our lives.  We know this.  We know this in our minds.  But we don’t really accept it in our “central being”.  Our central beings are more obtuse.  We think this is life; this is the way things are.  Wrong. 

I mentioned the other day my life as an artist is lost and gone forever.  But it took a big event for my central being to realize this and accept it. 

 Missy stayed wither her father the other and I was on my own.  Driving to Dallas I had time and silenced to cogitate on this.  I had the radio on to Ranch, country music – something I never do.  I turned the radio up really loud – something I never do.  I sang with Waylon Jennings “Hank Williams’pain songs, Jerry Jeff’s train songs, blue eyes crying in the rain” - also something I never do.  I admitted to myself that James and my life dancing to country western music is over.  Yes, it made me sad.

Also on this trip I thought about skiing.  Swooshing down the mountain with the wind in my face.  The tiny adjustment with knees and hips make turns.  James used to say  that the reason I was the better skier was because my center of gravity was so low.  Probably true.  And is that sad?  No, probably it is happy because we had the chance to do that – not everyone has that chance.

Laurie, my daughter-in-law, told me one time that when your children are growing up and you have them in your lap rocking them in the rocking chair, you don’t realize this is the last time you will do that, which is a good thing.  Otherwise it would be unbearable.  Yes, she is a wise lady.

So what does this have to do with dementia?  Everything.  But also about aging and about life itself. 

Missy’s friend says you can look at your life in five year increments and see the changes.  What were you doing five years ago?  Ten years ago?  Fifteen years ago?

That trip to Dallas was much more valuable than just the pair of pants I bought at Dillards.

DEMENTIA = CRAZY

Nov. 7, 2011

Dementia makes you crazy, that is, it makes the caregiver crazy.  And like other people who are crazy, we don’t realize we are crazy.  So we just end up doing stupid things and other people help us do them – I guess because they think we know what we are doing.  We don’t.

My most recent crazy thing was that I painted a piece of furniture as if it were a rabbit hutch and donated it for silent auction to the church bazaar.  Then I decided to buy it back from the church; so I started bidding on it.  I got the bid, wrote the church a check and took it home.  (This is the short version.)  My sweet husband who is so tottery he can hardly walk by himself helped me unload it from the pickup and walk up the four concrete steps to the front door with it and bring it inside.  It is a wonder one or both of us did not fall and break a bone. 

When I told my daughter about this, she suggested that maybe it was not the rabbit hutch I did not want to part with but an old way of life I did not want to part with.  I always loved being an artist and painting stuff and selling it at art shows.  This is now gone from me forever.  Yes, she is a smart lady; like her paternal grandmother she has an innate understanding of human nature.

And I apologize to all the people affected by my craziness.

Yes, the picture is tilted, like the rest of my life.

HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?

How long has this been going on?  I’m not sure.  My friend says it was about 15 years ago that I told her something was wrong with James.  Our daughter agrees that it was that long ago.  When I say that I don’t think it could be that long, she responds that I was “in denial” for a long time.

When James quit working I asked Judy, who worked with him, if she had noticed him not being as sharp as he used to be or not remembering as well.  She said she had not noticed it.  But she hesitated just a moment too long before answering.  Judy, if you are reading this, please excuse me for not returning you phone call yet.  I don’t like to talk about him when he is around. 

We were in Dallas all day yesterday going to doctors’ appointments.  I was exhausted before the day was over – felt like I had been digging ditches.  The only work I had done was answering the same questions 5,280 times.  Why are we here?  What doctor are we going to?  Is it for you or for me?  What time is our appointment?  Do you know how to get there? 

Our friend, Bryan, suggested I get a dry erase board to write all this stuff on.  Then when he asks, I can just say read the board.  He had done this for his mother who has the same problem.  It works pretty well but one day in a fit of hurrying,  I snatched up a permanent marker to write with.  Bad move but in case you ever do

this – you can get permanent marker off with nail polish remover.  You never know when this hint might come in handy.

And yet, there is still some of James down in there.  I was moaning and groaning the other day saying I just did not have the energy I should have.  He told me that he thought he could tell me why.  Why?  He said for me to get my billfold and look at the date on  my driver’s license. 

The brain is a curious thing.

HOW ARE THINGS

How are things?  I’m not sure.  Darling is a little slower I think.  Memory is a little less good.  It is very seldom that he can get the two remotes to work the T.V. anymore.  Yesterday he called me into the bathroom; he could not remember how to turn the shower on.  The doctor told us yesterday that he was seeing Parkinson’s disease starting.  I guess it is not surprising because anything I read about Alzheimer’s or any kind of dementia talks about Parkinson’s.  But this is the first time the doctor has mentioned it. 

He doesn’t like to take a bath or shave.  So far I can get him to shave and shower but it takes some conversation or a down right lie, such as we are going somewhere he likes to go such as church or to eat lunch.  I am not so adamant about shaving; so most of the time he looks like Dr. House.

He still has good social skills.  When we run onto acquaintances I think they probably think I am lying about him having a dementia.  But Missy tells me that anyone would know it if they are around him for a little while.

And he is such a gentlemen.  Recently we were at a local cafe at a meeting of senior citizens.  One of the ladies came in late and there were not any chairs at our table.  She is in her nineties.  James got up to get her a chair to put at the end of our table.  With her so slow from her age and him so slow from his disease I thought the restaurant would close for the evening before she was seated.  Have I told this before?  Sometimes I think my memory is as bad as his.

Until later, H

  H