The Evenings are Hardest

With all of the memory, confusion, delusion and dementia issues that have come up in our life with parkinson, evenings put me on high alert for hints about where she is mentally.

Last evening was particularly troublesome and at the same time interesting about where her mind was. For the previous couple days she occasionally would tell me how much she liked this”place” better than the other one. When I probed a little bit I discovered that she seemed to think that we were trying this condo out before we bought it. last night she asked if we were going home tonight or if we would wait until tomorrow. (Carpe Diem!) I told her that I did not want to drive all the way home tonight. I thought it would be better for me if we slept her and left in the morning. She agreed that it would be better to get a good night’s rest before driving back home.

A different discussion started about what to take with us and when to pack. I suggested that we wait until the morning because any dirty laundry I could easily pack in a garbage bag. I would not have to be neat about packing. She said, or you could wash it in the morning before we leave. I readily agreed. There were two or three story lines going at the same time. There were condos in two different places, here and at home. But we were going there tomorrow.

It became important to inform her sister Nancy that we were coming home tomorrow. I sent a text message to her sister informing her that she might get an odd phone call in a little bit and to just go with it.

Cheryl decided to water the plants so that they would be okay while we were gone for a week. (Nice, we were coming back.) I kept my mouth shut and helped to fill the little measuring cup we use to water the house plants. The story was still unfolding as the evening went on.

It looked as though Nancy was off the hook for the phone call and I informed her about it. Cheryl shifted gears and called her other sister Debbie. (Smiley face) I did not see that coming.

I helped her dial the phone to talk to Debbie and scrabbled to text Debbie about what was happening. I was not fast enough and opted to talk over the top of Cheryl to quickly explain the purpose of the call. Deb caught on quickly and smoothly adjusted the topic to their cousin who was in the hospital and probably soon moving to a close by hospice facility. They talked about that for awhile.

When she hung up I informed her that I had texted Nancy and told her that if Nancy needed more information about where we were or our other travel arrangements she could ask Deb. Cheryl replied that she had just talked to Deb and that would work. (Another smiley face) She did not remember that I was in the room while she was talking to Debbie.

I better call Anna and tell her too. When our daughter Anna answered I said over Cheryl, “Just go with it.” Anna did.

It was a busy hour and a half with phone calls and plant watering but all was well an hour or so later when we went to bed. She got up once to visit the bathroom and eventually got up for blueberry pan cakes and orange juice at about 9 AM.

NOVA was a repeat anyway.

Carpe sundowner Diem.

A great sunset picture from the LA Times.

Women’s Restrooms

Women’s restrooms are never handicapped accessible even when you think they are and the provider thinks they are.

The Ladies room at Through the Garden restaurant (which we go to often) is a pretty good one. Cheryl did not get trapped with her walker last night. The door hinges into the restroom and it is nice and wide.

The Silverton Cafe which is a wonderful old pub that we have gone to for decades has a sucky-wucky ladies room. Cheryl got trapped in the stall. A coat-hanger would have been good.

The public restroom on the first floor lobby area south in St. Elizabeth Ft. Thomas has a really swell feature. I has a handicap wave pad that opens the door mechanically when you wave your hand at it. It also has motion sensitive lights which turn on when you shove your walker in but waits a few minutes and turns them off leaving you sitting in an inside room without windows or any other lighting which makes it blacker than the inside of a cow which is also not not nice. Almost a great idea though. Needs a little tweaking.

As we travel the road of parkie dilemmas I have visited a lot of women’s restrooms lately. I am not shy about shouting “doing okay?” through the door and opening the door which usually interferes with the walker coming out. Often you will see me hovering near the ladies room door when we leave the restaurant or pub for the evening. I try to not look creepy.

Most seem to hinge inward but the door is conveniently (for the builder) located in a corner so that you cannot be off to the side with the walker to open the door.

A few designers are thinking here and there. It is sporatic though. Old buildings are the worst. Restrooms do not make any money for pubs. All guys need is a bush.

Carpe the restroom Diem.

Physical and Mental

These two aspects of the Parkinson Dilemma are frustrating from a care partner viewpoint. They are the source of laments and weariness. The grind can be debilitating in many subtle and unsubtle ways.

Physical disability is only recognized by Cheryl when she is so physically tired that she cannot stand up. And even then she fights the thought that she physically cannot do something. That something might be as little as getting up out of the chair that I put her in because I was worried about her falling. There must be a balance somewhere. So I help anyway without trying to be a helicopter helper and hovering about her space.

Her mental ignorance of her ability to do something – rare is the occasion that she will ask for help – is simultaneously frustrating and heartwarming. She wants to do it. If she starts it and I complete it she feels like she did it. (Ugh!) Her memory does not allow her to remember that I completed whatever it was. So I help anyway without trying to be a helicopter helper and hovering about her space secure in the fact that she will not remember and assured that it is unimportant for me to correct her when she tells someone – see what I did. (except when she tells the doctor.) Tee Hee!

Seize the day and make something new if things are not going your way. Parkinson is a progressive dilemma and in Cheryl’s case there is an element of creeping apathy. The meah factor appears as she loses interest in doing things – exercise, writing birthday cards, visits with friends, laundry, making cookies, taking down the Christmas tree and decorations and other things. A little push every now and then never hurts. She will not remember that it was not her idea if you are subtle with your pushes.

Today we will visit a cousin of hers who is in the hospital. She is uninterested in exercise class. The hospital will be a long walk so we will switch activities today. And then as we left the little lunch place and headed toward the hospital my son called with a request to pick up our grandson after school. More driving but out in the world today. We will go to the hospital tomorrow.

This is an old picture but it is how I see this woman, the love of my life, the place I am home. I see that smile less and less but sometimes early in the morning it peeks out of her face.

Carpe Diem even if you cannot.

Pizza Tuesday

An old tradition of ours is pizza Tuesday. I know. I know it is supposed to be taco Tuesday but neither of us are super huge fans of tacos. Although if we wind up at a Mexican restaurant and there are some very good ones in the Cincinnati area, Cheryl will order tacos. Some of the Hello Fresh meals are Latin American in flavors. Neither of us grew up with that but the La Rosa family has been in business for sometime and some scenes from the Rain Man use Pompellio’s as back drop. Sorry I have digressed again.

We used to frequent a small pizza joint nearby (run by a family of German dissent or Latvian if the spelling is different) that we liked. We tried several nights during the week and ultimately landed on Tuesday as the least crowded. It stuck. Over time it became “Anything Goes Pizza Tuesday” because sometimes one would rather have a hoagie or a hero sandwich or a calzone or maybe just a salad. Cheryl did not care as long as there was pepperoni somewhere. The only exception being a steak hoagie sandwich reminiscent of Pasquale’s. Sadly, the Pasquale’s of our childhood is no longer.

Lately we have moved Anything-Goes-Pizza-Tuesday to a newer use of an old italian restaurant near where we live. They opened just before the pandemonium and we supported them with carry out orders during the shutdown.

Pizza Tuesday has developed into a social affair with friends and neighbors. Sometimes Cheryl’s family shows up. Sometimes anything goes.

On this particular night Cheryl’s cousin Donna showed up. We had been trying to get together and on a whim I called her and invited her to Strong’s Brick Oven Pizzeria. She came. My cousin’s widow, Linda showed up. We had a great conversation. We got home later than we usually did. Sadly, we had no leftovers and that is too bad.

It was a time to connect and make new connections. The pizza Tuesday reminder list is getting longer. Cheryl had a good time and told stories.

Carpe pizza Tuesday Diem.

Longing for a Different Life

There are days when I long for a different life. This is one of them.

She did not sleep well last night.

She was more incontinent than ever before.

The shear repetition of care partner activities tends to grind.

Dementia can be debilitating. Those struggling with dementia do not know it.

Memory loss too. She becomes more frustrated as the evening wears on.

Conversation is tough. There are bright spots as stories are made up on the fly.

Delusional behavior is stressful for the deluded and the helper. Deluded minds have a different reality.

I suppose yesterday I was very tired. When she does not sleep, nor do I.

There was extra laundry in the morning and sometimes one needs to goof off.

There were extra things to do that day. I do not always feel like doing extra but it is still there to do.

It is relentless and constant. Relentless and constant.

So yesterday I longed for a different life and I do so every few days but yesterday it seemed worse somehow.

?

Carpe lament diem.

Ago

When we were young Cheryl was a very good seamstress. She impressed me by making me and the boys a couple of shirts. I have no idea of the amount of work, effort and skill it takes to make other items of clothing but the year she made us custom fitting flannel shirts for Christmas I was super impressed. I still have a couple. The rest overtime I managed to wear out and fray most of them beyond repair. I can tell you that there is nothing, nothing better than a well tailored shirt. If you have ever had a shirt made for you, shirts off a rack are never the same again. Although I never owned one I can understand why men could spend thousands of dollars on a hand made suit. No wedgies in your armpits or elsewhere.

Today for whatever reason she has decided the pillows need to be trimmed differently.  Here we are in Joann Fabrics. It is hard for me to understand what she is thinking. She has a hard time expressing her thoughts. It is overwhelming like a lot things these days. I really do not know how to help her.

The plan that I conjured was to get outside before the inclement weather turned up. Maybe a walk even though it is cold the wind is still. And afterwards we can have some lunch somewhere. It is Sunday and we have no plans.

But she found her stash of earrings when she was putting her clothes on. I was in full on waiting mode in my little office hide away hoping to not get frustrated and jump in to speed her up. This is January in Ohio and it has been weirdly warm for a couple weeks and that usually means the crap is coming. I became anxious and went back to check. She was messing around with her earring stash. I reminded her we were going to take a walk and have a little lunch somewhere. Oh yeah, that’s right said she. She came out of the bedroom with a bunch of her earrings in a box to take to the jeweler for repair that they did not need. I pointed out that it was Sunday and her favorite jeweler is closed today. She said maybe we could go sometime this week and I readily agreed.

Let’s go take a walk and get lunch. Okay she said.

That all went out the window as we got into the car and she told me about Joann Fabrics and pillows and fringe and trim and once seam binding. Happily I knew what all of those were but had no idea why she was telling me or what she had in mind. I had a lot of questions. I reluctantly drove toward Joann Fabrics instead of our favorite park to walk in. Switching from earrings to pillows left me dumfungled.

I drove to Joann Fabrics and later after we had absorbed enough of the ambiance, we went to a close by Cracker Barrel for salads and pillow talk. This was a soft talking day and Cracker Barrel was a bad pick for quiet conversation but they did have a nice wood fire going near where we were seated.

Later when we got home she showed me the green pillow that she had been talking about. I think she made this waiting for one of our kids to get big enough to be born. I do not remember which one but this pillow has been in our household for several decades.

Carpe the sewing project Diem.

Inspiration in Song and Poetry

I often find hope and inspiration in song and poetry. Today while reading blogs of others I tripped over this from Filosofa’s Word. Kermit and his rainbow song.

To me and I suppose many, poetry and song are the same thing. A song with a melody that is catchy enables a poor poem to live. A sweet expressive poem often needs no accompaniment. Sometimes the music is first and inspires the poem. Sometimes the poem is first and inspires the melody.

A favorite poem Desiderata sort of sums up life. It has no metre. It follows a prose format. I find it to be calming to my heart. I have not read it for a while but reading Jill’s blog page about caused me to do that today.

Carpe Diem and keep connected to everyone around you.

Waiting

It seems to me that I spend a lot of time waiting for the next thing. I started this about a week ago. I did not know where to go after the first line. But late last night after I finally convinced Cheryl to lay down I realized that sometimes I am waiting for life to smooth out for a bit.

Care partners often do not realize how important it is to have relief.

I wait to find out if Cheryl is going to organize her office.

I wait to find out about if we are home or if we need to fix that by driving home.

I wait to find out if getting to bed is next or if this is a late night.

Things are more mysterious at night and I am tired and on guard against argumentative discussion.

Last night we drove around to get home again. Because I was bored I picked a different circuit. That was a mistake on my part. I realized my error after I turned and she said, “This is not the way.” Oopsy. Now she is concentrating on landmarks which caused me to start a running commentary about streets and where were. Luckily she came with me and said we have to turn left at the light.

One more street and we were looking at home.

Carpe waiting Diem.

From Luke

When She’s Off

It is such an odd disease. Cheryl slept very soundly last night and because of that so did I. I do not remember awakening to visit the bathroom at all. I must have but I have no memory of it.

Today she seemed really good. She was struggling with a BM and I worried that she may be focused on that tonight. It is only 11:28 so there is still time but the “I need to go home” was strong. I tried another suggestion about asking where to turn and how to get here. She was not sure of the way. We got back from our little circuit. She was okay with being here. She told me to be careful when I went home. She pointed the way to Galbraith Rd.

She walked around the house while I garaged the car. She was still unsure of “home”. But it looked a bit like home to her. It seemed like I was winning. If I could have charted it, the pattern was more like the markets of the past few weeks – up, down, up, up, down – yadda yadda yadda. Hard to judge. Up? or off?

It was a constant running commentary to help her with PJ’s. I lied that I had reported where she was staying to her mother. I lied that her mom was okay with staying here. I lied that I sent and email message to everyone telling them where we were staying. I said, “I love you.” she replied, “I love you too, Jan.” She noticed her mistake. I ignored it. It is unimportant and she is very tired.

Eventually she succumbed to tiredness and laid down in bed.

The night is still young and the morning is not here yet.

Carpe Diem the connection to the addled mind inside.