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

HARD TO KEEP UP WITH STUFF

We got the new license plate for the trailer.  It came with a rubber band around it and a piece of paper with a sticker showing the month and year it expired.  Great!  A couple of days later the license plate with the rubber band still around it was still laying on the end of the counter – no piece of paper, no sticker.  We looked all over for it.  Looked on both cars for the sticker in case we had put it on one of the cars.  No piece of paper, no sticker.  Went back to the tax office and explained situation.  They knew exactly how to take care of it (we weren’t the first ones).  She asked for 6.50 (I was afraid I would have to pay another 51.00) and got another piece of paper with a sticker.  But this time she pealed off the sticker and stuck it to the license plate before she handed it back to me.  Smart lady.

A few minutes ago I was cleaning off the table by Darling’s chair.  Picked up for trash a cookie bag, an advertisement for a cruise, an old calendar for the car club and the piece of paper with the sticker still attached.  Now why didn’t I look there when I was looking?  I haven’t gotten used to all this yet.  Every day is like a new day.

ADVENTURES

This is a picture of James in heat and sweat with a cold cloth on his head and a cold beer in his hand.

Jack came over to see James yesterday.  They sat around talking and Jack asked what was digging up my flower beds.  Of course I did not know, but whatever it was was really making a mess.  About an hour later Jack called me to come outside and see my new pet.  It was an armadillo – not full grown but not a baby.  He said he wished he had his gun; he would shoot it.

Jack came back today to get James to go running around with him.  He said he needed to check on some job sites and then they would have tamales for lunch.  They took the Camaro, top down and hotter than Hades.  They got back about 2:30, red faced and drenched in sweat.  They came back from putting the Camaro away and Jack called to me.  There are now three armadillos in the yard.  He had brought his gun with him but he forgot shotgun shells; did we have some?  We have not had guns or ammo since James got sick.  We were advised to get rid of all that kind of stuff which we did. But James does not know that; so he was looking all over the house for 12 gauge shells.  Jack went up to the store for shells and when he came back he and James were all over our yard and neighbor’s yard shooting at armadillos.  The next thing I knew Jack was gone.

It is always an adventure when Jack is around.  When James first got sick he came home and said Jack and his wife were going to Jefferson for the day and had invited us.  Great!  We went to their house early in the morning for the day trip.  It was much more complicated than that; there were about 10 people and the men were going on motorcycles and the women were going in the car.  I did not know until we passed the turnoffs to Jefferson that we were not going to Jefferson for a day.  We were going to Bossier City for the gambling for 3 days!  James and me with no clothes and certainly not enough money for gambling.  The rest of this story is here in one of the early blogs.

As I say, Jack is always an adventure.

FURNITIURE

A lot of my furniture looks pretty bad – okay – really bad.  The threadbareness you see is on the recliner sofa James sits on.  It is just the arm covers that come with the furniture so that if company is coming, I just take these off.  James sits and scratches on them.  Dr. Downs says it is a tremor.  He also scratches on my pillow sometimes and of course it is really loud with my ear on the pillow.  The recliner part of one of the sofas is held together with a pair of vice grips.  The vice grips are under the sofa so I thought they did not show but our son said “why do you have vice grips holding your sofa together”.  So why don’t I get new sofas or have these repaired and recovered?  Because I don’t know what is to come.  I keep hearing stories about incontinence and violence. 

Do I just go around looking for trouble?  My mother used to say I did. 

BRAINS ARE STRANGE

My darling doesn’t drive anymore. His truck sat out in the driveway gathering dust and loosing spunk and value everyday. The children and I decided to sell it. Out son took it home to see how its absence went and to prepare to sell it. Every time James went outside and saw it was gone he would ask where it was. I would tell him where it was and that Drew was driving it some. I finally told him that we wanted to sell it and why. Everything hit the fan. He would ask twenty times a day where it was and would get upset and argue about it each time. He once asked why we were trying to get rid of all his stuff before he was even dead. . In fact he just became cranky in general. I finally called Drew and left a message. Please bring the truck home, we are going to let it sit in the drive way and rot!!!!!!!!! James asked me about five more times where his truck was and each time I told him that Drew was going to bring it home. So James was satisfied. He got un-cranky. He even told Drew over the phone not to be in any hurry to bring it home when it was convenient. So now he is back to his old self .

WHY????? We know he can’t remember about any of this; so why has his mood changed?

I remember reading about a test done on some Alzheimer’s patients. They were shown movies that were sad and movies that were happy. Ten minutes later they did not remember seeing the movie but they retained the emotion of being either happy or sad. So strange.

I told a friend about this and he said his wife would not let me watch sad movies. She would only let him watch Black Beauty and such movies.