Author: AdjunctWizard

To My Cousin Frank (aka Butch)

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Frank, I know you are not with us any more and have not been for awhile but I suspect that like Google and Facebook you can watch us, so here is what I want to say to you.

Thank you ever so much for marrying Linda all those years ago when we were young. These days she is an immense help to me and a good friend. As you are aware, her simple act of kindness to Cheryl and me comes in the form of being with Cheryl while I go do something else. Lately that has been riding my bike around Lunken Airport.

When she first started doing this for us I had signed myself up for a care giving class which put great emphasis on making sure that you take care of yourself as a care partner. I asked if Linda could be with Cheryl during those class times and she agreed. I took the “take care of yourself” message to heart and make an extra effort to find help so that I can be on my own for a couple hours.

Since I am seeing Linda more these days, prior to this as you know we met for pizza Tuesday maybe four or five times a year, I think often about our conversations and ponderings in Aunt Dorothy’s kitchen. Do you remember some the questions we posed? How does one determine if sour cream is bad?, for example. I had not thought about it at the time but it was the same sort of thing that would puzzle my dad and I am guessing his brother, your dad. Sometimes small people would run through and we would wonder who they belonged to. Those are good memories. That entire older generation of our family is gone now. Aunt Bert passed away last year. But you know that. Have you talked to her yet? Does dementia go away when you get to heaven?

So, here is a couple questions for you. How are you doing in heaven these days? Is heaven a no smoking area? Is there a smoking section? Or did you give that up?

Did you know grapes are better when they are frozen? I learned that from Sarah’s Luke.

Ray and Shirley passed through town a few days ago. We gathered at Sarah’s house with as many folks as we could conjure up. Not all of your kids were there but some were. Betty and Herb came from Brooksville. Andy was not there but Kyle and Julie were. It was a great time. Ray took a picture:

the gathering

Good talking to you.

Carpe Diem.

Not For a While

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She fainted this morning. She has not fainted for a long time.  Orthostatic hypotension. In Cheryl’s case in the past she would faint sitting at the table after breakfast. She reads the paper and absorbs her Cheerios and occasionally faints. But she has not passed out for a long time. She takes a pill intended to raise her blood pressure. I started this post on August 11. As she exercises in front of me on August 23rd I am finishing my thoughts.

Breakfast is/was  monkey bread. A local bakery makes a coffee cake composed of balls of sugary dough rolled in butter, brown sugar and cinnamon. These are pressed into the pan and allowed to proof. They call it monkey bread. A different small neighborhood bakery I knew as a child called it by the less imaginative title of “pullapart”. It is easy t make. It contains a lot of sugar which makes me wonder if that or some other carbohydrate metabolism reduces her BP.

She is generally a little foggy after a fainting episode. Her shower and dressing afterward needed instructions and encouragement. It is exercise class day and I will not let her miss it. I am a stinker about that but exercise always perks her up.

Exercise is seated cardio class introduction. There are a lot of dance moves and some upper body boxing style motions. The idea is to raise your heart rate into what experts call a cardio workout. It is a new thing for Cheryl. the leader, Joelle, is a substitute today and she teaches this style of exercise class on two days that Cheryl does not come to PCF. On the way home Cheryl told me she liked the exercise class. I can get her to exercise class four times a week.

Makes me cry to see her going again, especially after I had to lay her on the kitchen floor to recover from her fainting spell about 2 hours ago. Joelle is playing “Summer Wind” by Frank Sinatra on her Bose speaker laying on the floor of the exercise area. This music is nostalgic for me. I used it for background when I put together a slide show of pictures from a cruise trip we took many years ago that was purchased for us by our daughter and her husband.

When I got home today I looked high and low for pictures from that trip to insert here but, alas, I am a poor filer. The pictures are somewhere. Maybe.

Carpe Diem.

How Big are You

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Author and futurist Robert Anton Wilson on the size of a person:

“You are precisely as big as what you love and precisely as small as what you allow to annoy you.”

Source: Nature’s God

— from James Clear’s email

This appeared from James Clear in his email newsletter.

It spoke to me. Deeply.

I do feel small when I allow Cheryl’s disease to become her. It boils over into anger and guilt. I forget often that she is not her disease.

She has been getting physical therapy to help her with movements like getting out of a chair. Sit to Stand is the notation on the PT’s notes. This motion is natural to non-PD people. One does not even think about the mechanics of it. Cheryl has to think and remember the sequence of moves. Depending on the time of day and how she is feeling, thinking and memory are difficult. So she simply cannot remember how to get out of a chair.

When she has fallen and when she falls it is always backwards. I encourage her to lean forward at her waist and push off the chair as the PT told her. Nose over toes is the mantra. But in view of anything, walker, table, person, nearby grab bar or whatever grip, grab and pull easily win over N-O-T. I encourage by telling her where to put her hands and how to position her body. She responds with don’t-tell-me-what-to-do anger. I respond in kind and then feel bad because I was to her unkind.

I love her dearly (big). I am annoyed with her disease (small) and I allow it to be her (smaller).

My personal reason for writing this is to hold that idea up in the light and discern how to be better next time. I am grateful for all the next times even though anger anxiety and anxiousness might creep back in. It is hard work and I am not that good at it.

Time to meditate and ponder with deep sagacity.

Carpe Diem

Distracted Morning

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Sometimes when I am distracted in the morning and helping Cheryl along to her next task I poke around on the the internet of all knowledge and little information (aka world wide wait, world wide waste, wordle word wrestle, etc.). Google is helpful with amusing little short articles to pique your interest and use up a few minutes of your day. I tripped over this:

The Simple Trick For Removing Stuck Labels From Glassware – BY AUTUMN SWIERS/AUG. 18, 2022 2:22 PM EDT

Maybe you’ve heard recent rumors that Mason jars are the new, unofficial beverage holders of hipsters. Even CBS News says, ‘to be truly hipster, one must drink from a used Mason jar. It doesn’t count if you bought one in a store. It had to be used for another purpose, like for blueberry jam, pickles, or canned peaches. (CBS made the statement when a Chicago 7-Eleven began selling slurpees out of Mason jars, calling the move a “Hipster Apocalypse.” HuffPost expressed a similar sentiment.) A recent survey by the International Food Information Council, via Food Insight, found that younger generations care more about sustainability — and a hipster is “usually [a] young person’ It’s fitting, then, that recycling your used Mason jars, and other glassware, is an easy way to make an environmental difference. You can reuse that old jam jar to sip cold brew out of, to keep food fresh, to plant flowers in, or for storing buttons. But, maybe you simply don’t want the glass jar you’re using to hold those cute cozy overnight oats to have a big “Pepperoncini” label across the front.

Luckily, there’s a simple trick for removing stuck labels from glassware. Whip out the baking soda

To remove a stuck label from your glassware, craft supplies purveyor Avery suggests scrubbing the label off with acetone nail polish remover, rubbing alcohol, lighter fluid, or cheap vodka. Let the label soak face-down in the solution of your choice for 15 minutes, then scrub away with a sponge. Frugal Minimalist Kitchen recommends employing the help of a scraper. But, if chemicals and tools aren’t really your thing, there’s another method.

Simply submerge the glassware in a pot of warm water, add a little dish soap or baking soda, and let it soak, says The Kitchen. You can heat the pot directly on the stove. The labels, it says, should come off on their own, but spot-scrubbing with baking soda will take care of any stubborn residue. To safely remove the hot glassware from the pot, use tongs and transfer them to a dish towel to cool. (If you’re all out of baking soda, Aim Plastic Free says white vinegar works, too.)

Sustainably Kind recommends a similar technique, but with a slight variation. If you’d rather bypass the hassle of putting a pot on the stove, it says, you can simply fill those jars or other glassware with boiling water from a tea kettle. Let the water heat the jar for 3-5 minutes; This will soften the adhesive that holds the label on, and you should be able to easily remove it while the hot water is still in the jar.

Next up — HERE’S THE TRICK TO COOKING THE TASTIEST BACON ON THE PLANET — could it be fry it in a skillet?

I had to laugh at myself for spending a couple minutes reading all these words that can be summed up as wash it. I am not a hipster. Maybe hipsters do not understand washing, after all, they have apparently only recently discovered glass. (Who was Mason, anyway?) I am glad, however, that the kids have rediscovered glass. We used to drink beer from glass jars when I was in college… in 1970-ish.

Cheryl has had breakfast. Shortly we will go to her last physical therapy appointment and decide what happens next. She slept a little later this morning but she seems rested and relaxed.

Carpe Diem.

We had a Moment

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It was early afternoon. It was about an hour after she had taken a dose of meds. She was standing at the kitchen sink. Her dyskinesia was noticeable. Her conversation was anxious.

She was worried about what was going to happen with the occupational therapist … I think. I tried to convince her to sit and rest for a bit until we had to go there.

I went to putz in my office. Alexa was playing Rod Stewart old standards from his Great American Songbook album. Time after Time came on “… so lucky to be loving you” a waltz or foxtrot. I asked her if she wanted to dance. The song was a favorite of ours. I turned it up a bit and coaxed her into the space between the dining and living area. She put her arms up around me and I did the same. We hugged and danced in place.  She burst into tears as some Parkinson’s emotions took over.

Me too. We took a moment to feel a little sad about our current situation. We took a moment to let the emotion wash over us. At that point in time life was overwhelming. We had to let it be overwhelming in order to move forward with life some more. It is okay to lament life for a bit.

The song ended and we sat in the living room. Rod started singing, “I see fields of green, red roses too…” She watched some of the pictures go by on the Frameo that Anna gave her a couple years ago. She cried a little bit more and enjoyed the nostalgia. And then we were ready for life again.

an earlier dancing opportunity

Carpe Diem.

Overnight at the Lodge

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A few days ago the kids and grandkids camped at a nearby state park. Cheryl knew about it.  They had exchanged text messages back and forth while the planning went on. I did not talk seriously to Cheryl about it until the day before. If I give her too much to think about she becomes anxious with the planning activity.

I suggested we could stay overnight in the lodge there and visit the kiddos at the campground. She readily agree. I called the lodge desk and THEY HAD HANDICAPPED ACCESS rooms available. I did not ask about their cancellation policy. I was hopeful that Cheryl would still be interested in visiting the kiddos campsite when she woke up tomorrow.

The next day we went. It was a great day. I got the big bed pad out and packed it on the bottom of the big suitcase with extra incontinence solutions so that Cheryl would not have that anxiety all day long. On top of that she packed clothes for a week. Girls need choices. I packed a change of clothes in the little bit of space left in the suitcase.

We got there about 3:30-ish and found the room. I texted David and found out where their camp sites were and cruised through the campground twice after misreading the signs the first time through. We found them unloading coolers and tables and chairs and other stuff. Everybody was busy with something so I parked in an empty campsite across the little drive through the camping area. Luke was loading a cooler with soft drinks. Anna, Laurencia and Virginia were making quick work of erecting a couple tents.

Good times were soon to be had. Frisbee games were unloaded. Eric and Max tossed a baseball back and forth. Corn hole was set up. It is not camping if there is no corn hole set around.

There was great camp food. Our son, David, with Cheryl’s help, current veggies and sausage packets to place on the fire. Cheryl had a great time participating in the food preparation. For a short while she was Mom again. She was talking and cutting. Dad was hanging out with the grandkids and the other adults.

We had some great conversation around the campfire.  Parkinson disease interlaced with dementia takes most of the spontaneity out of our living activities these days. I had forgotten about that. I am sincerely grateful that Cheryl was feeling good that day and evening. We both miss the spontaneity of retirement.

And grateful that some of our hoped for spontaneity in retirement was there that day. Twenty-five years ago we would spontaneously decide to disappear on the weekend and hike in the woods or explore some little town we had not been to before. Once we stayed overnight in a bed and breakfast in Chilicothe, Ohio and the B & B was being run by others because the owner was going to Columbus overnight for a cancer treatment. So, we stayed overnight with strangers in someone else’s house. It was amusing and fun and spontaneous.

Carpe diem

The Art of Marriage and Care Partnering

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An empathetic and caring atmosphere for your partner with Parkinson and dementia, like a good marriage, must be created. In the art of marriage the little things are the big things. The same is true for care partnering. Small things are meaningful to both.

It is never being too old to hold hands. Physical touch is a comfort. Holding hands and helping someone you love up a step or into the car or into a chair at the restaurant is a sign of love. Doing those things without complaint and without request is a sign of grace. Look for grace in your life.

Remembering to say, “I love you” at least once each day to a spouse who is also graced with a chronic disease is reassuring. She did not ask for this disease. Reassure her that she is not an annoyance to you by saying this often. As a care partner there will be times when you do not feel that way in that moment, breathe deep and remember how it was and use those thoughts to see her as she is now.

Never go to sleep angry. Anger is available every day. It has no place in the bedroom at night. (This may be the hardest lesson to learn.) Just remember that everything seems worse at night. Sleep later into the morning hours. There is always light after the darkness.

Discussing and having a mutual sense of values and common objectives that are important to the partner who is burdened with Parkinson is essential for helping her to manage the disease. Occasionally anxiety creeps into my thoughts and voice. When that happens I become a naggy care pusher and not a helpful encouraging care partner. If you can, resist becoming a naggy care pusher.

We are standing together facing the world. This is a joint effort. (A platitude – many hands make for light work.) Care partnering is forming a circle of love that gathers in the whole family. It gathers in your circle of friends. It affects the person with Parkinson directly both physically and sometimes mentally. Parkinson is a change. Parkinson is not a purgatory.

Care partnering is speaking words of appreciation and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways. These words are exchanged in both directions. These words are not expected. These words are freely given.

Care-giving has the capacity to forgive and forget. Give each other an atmosphere in which each can grow. Share your thoughts and ideas with each other.

Find room for the things of the spirit. And when the spirit moves, search for the good and the beautiful. Keep on the lookout for those “Aha” moments to learn from.

As it is with marriage, care-giving is not only partnering with the right helpmate. It is being the right partner. Parkinson’s sucks is the phrase Michael J. Fox uses. By helping each other PD sucks less.

Carpe Diem.

MMXXII and Enjoy the Moment

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Tim Scott has a new book. It has just been published so he is making the rounds promoting his new effort. Perhaps merely because he is intelligent and half of the Senate representation from South Carolina but probably also because he is black and Republican, the CBS Morning newsies cannot resist asking questions that have little to do with his book.

To a question about whether he was considering a run for the Presidency of the U. S. he responded, “… You shouldn’t worry what’s next if you haven’t finished what’s now.” He gets my new life philosophy.

Carpe Diem. Latin for seize the day. I use it to end my little posts about various issues Cheryl is dealing with but it is also a reminder to me to stay in the present. Do not linger in lamentation over perceived losses. Stay focused on the now. But do not get so narrow minded that everything has to be “just so.” It can be good enough. (An engineer would add – for who it’s for.)

Do not become anxious about the future unless you are making a list of stuff to take care of before leaving on an extended trip. Worrying about what is to come is of no useful purpose. Plan and if God laughs at you, laugh with Him.

Carpe Diem to me also means stay in the moment. Enjoy this moment. Take a selfie if you want to have a remembrance in some future time. I personally do not understand the selfie thing. Most of the selfies I see on Facebook do not give one a sense of where one is. Occasionally there is a glimpse of beach or Mickey Mouse ears but often the background is some drinking establishment which could be anywhere in the world. I have also noticed that the camera aficionados in my family point the camera away from themselves. Me included.

Cheryl found this image of my youngest sister, Laura and her husband Jeff. They look very happy. Laura looks radiant. They are enjoying the moment. I maintain it is impossible to look this happy and not be happy in your soul.

This picture was made pre-smart phone. It is therefore not a selfie. Many years ago I visited with my west coast sister in Seattle. I was working on a job farther north in Vancouver BC. Walking down Market St. I was nearly clothes-lined by some woman with her selfie stick. It was the first time I had seen a selfie stick. (Oh, I have wandered off into the weeds.)

Carpe Diem.

Carpe Diem

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I invited Cheryl and me to David’s house this afternoon. It is the first sunny one in a week or so. The following group of text messages ensued.

I concur. This is gonna be good.

Carpe sunny day Diem.

An August Evening

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Rainy days in August have produced sundowner’s confusion and dementia. On this particular day it seems a bit worse.

Cheryl has had a particularly busy week. Two physical therapy visits and an exercise class happened this week. On Monday evening our HOA board had a meeting to discuss maintenance schedules and what new projects we could take on with the money on hand. Jane came across the hall and sat with Cheryl on our back porch while I attended. (Jane is a wonderful neighbor.)

On anything goes pizza Tuesday we had dinner with our neighbor Jane as usual and in addition our new upstairs neighbor Joe joined us. Joe moved into the front condo over the garage spaces. Much of getting to know you conversation happened. Cheryl knew of a woman which she attended high school with who had the same last name. Her name was Kathy. As it turned out she was Joe’s younger sister. Jane’s husband used to play in several bands when he was still alive many years ago and Joe’s last name was familiar to her also. As the story developed it became apparent that her husband John had played in a band with Joe’s father.

It was a great getting-to-know-the-neighbor conversation. There were lots of memories for Joe and from Jane and Cheryl. When we got home Cheryl was exhausted.

Wednesday, I had arranged for my cousin-in-law, Linda, to come and take Cheryl to her physical therapy appointment. I went to visit the lab of a local community college program that I am still involved with. That facility is twenty minutes or so down the highway and I was gone for about two hours. We later met back up in a local diner for lunch.

Thursday it was my intention to attend a exercise-for-care-partners class at Parkinson Community Fitness after Cheryl’s twelve pm exercise class. I had previously arranged for my daughter to pick up her mom so that Cheryl would not have to stay. I found out my class was canceled at the last minute so when Anna showed up we all went to lunch. Our grandson Max was with his mom and he showed off his new laptop he purchased for college. He will start in a couple weeks.

I had hoped to ride my bike for a bit so Anna and Max remained with Cheryl. Alas, the weather did not cooperate. As I entered our condo Anna was helping her mom sort coins. These had been residing on the dining room table for several days but the project was several weeks old. Cheryl found them back in her office a few days ago. Cheryl told her daughter that when they were finished they would give the coins to her dad. She used to help her dad roll coins from his gas station business many years ago.

Max was frustrated with his new laptop. The camera no longer worked. What ensued afterward was a chat via the internet with some Microsoft expert and ultimately a complete reload of the operating system. That seemed extreme to me but I am an old retired electrical guy whose been fooling around with systems, software and computers for fifty years or so. We are living in a new age now. Ultimately it was discovered that Lenovo had placed a privacy slider to cover the camera on the upper edge of the case. It was a mechanical failure or an operational one depending on who is characterizing the action.

On Friday I was still hoping to ride my bike and the weather was still not cooperating. Cindy came anyway And I went to get a haircut and run a few other errands. I returned about an hour later.

This whole week was generally gray and overcast. It was not gloomy like the wintertime but gray and rainy nevertheless. It is still rainy and poopy outside as I write this.

The rest of the day was filled with visions and stories of her family. She was looking for Scott. Later in the evening she told me a story about Easter eggs, coloring them and Mavis. She eventually called our daughter-in-law Mavis to ask about what her objection was to coloring Easter eggs.

Earlier in the evening she asked, “Where is Ken?” I told her that Ken was probably home but I was not sure. She should call him and talk to him. She did not take that suggestion.

It was a frustrating afternoon and evening for me. Later I realized after she had exhausted herself with a very busy sundowner episode that for the first time this week only I was here with her and she could relax and let all that out.

As she laid in the bed she asked me to make sure the kids all got home okay. This morning she slept until 10 am.

Carpe Diem.