On Making Pies

Perhaps if one would choose, a bit more experience would precede making a pie for company.

About Thursday of last week, something she saw on television or read in the paper caused her to decide that she would make a pie for dessert on Sunday.

In her mind’s eye, it was no big deal. In her mind’s eye there is no Parkinson’s disease. In her mind’s eye she has plenty of stamina. On the way home from dinner at Through the Garden Restaurant on Friday evening we stopped at the grocery and bought some apples. On Saturday she cut up and peeled three of the four apples and had to sit down. I peeled and cut up the last one and another for just-in-case.

She took her meds and laid down for a bit. When she felt a little better, I made the crust under her tutelage. We (I) rolled it out and started over about a dozen times. I quit to put on shoes and gather my stuff for a trip to the store for a premade crust. On the way through the kitchen I stopped to try just once more with a twist.

My twist worked and we (I) assembled the pie.

Today we will take it to my son’s house to see how it turned out.

My other son’s wife is an expert pie maker. I probably should have subcontracted the pie to her and they live pretty close by. Maybe next time I will do this or maybe next time I will practice making crust.

Martha Stewart has a website full of ideas.

My pie – ready for transport

Carpe Diem!

Occasionally to Her I am a Different Person

“Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” 

James Baldwin

I do not know much about James Baldwin. He was a black man and an author. He wrote “Go Tell It on the Mountain” and other things. He died a while ago. This quote which I tripped over this morning reading through other articles not from mainstream media as my sister-in-law likes to say, spoke to me. Lately, Cheryl has been struggling with seeing extra people in our home and upon occasion, though not wondering who I am, seeing me and sometimes not seeing me.

Yesterday evening she asked me if I had talked to Paul about something. I do not remember what the something was. It was not important . I quickly realized that she thought I was not me. I replied with I am Paul.

These moments seem to come early in the morning or late in the evening. It is dark. The lights are on here and there.

She talks about dad doing this and dad doing that. The first time she started telling me about dad was when I changed the dimmer switch on the light fixtures in our master bath. I had added a newer dimmer control with a toggle. I had thought it to be more convenient for operation in the night. It is and she approved of its installation. She told me so that night by saying – did you see the new light switch dad put in? It works great.

I did not ask who she thought I was. I merely acknowledged that it was a good thing that he put it in the bathroom.

That guy who brings the pills… is a common early morning remark lead in to some comment I said when I got out of bed to turn off the alarm and retrieve her first dose of medications for the day. There are many of these; That guy who brings the pills in the morning, he said we were going to the store today. (for example)

Extra people appear to her in our home. Not religious apparitions but little girls and sometimes their guardian an older woman will appear with them. A few days ago when I returned the bowl that had contained her pills and the water glass to the kitchen, she asked me what that woman wanted. I told her that there was no woman there. I was merely putting the glass away. She accepted that.

For many months, I had accepted that this observed change in her behavior and thinking was just a natural progression of Parkinson disease. This behavior does not present itself when she and I visit her neurologist. I sent him a note before our last visit. We talked about it at length when we were there last time.

We are in the midst of slight medication adjustments and a series of pathology tests to rule out any physiological problems that could cause symptoms such as these.

So far these are all negative which makes me a bit sad. She is in the minority of parkies that the disease affects her cognitive function.

It is now more important than ever to seize the good moments, live in the present and jettison the anxiety for the future.

Face the thing. Maybe the outcome can be changed. As a caregiver do not forget that you have greater knowledge of your loved one than the doctor does. Tell the doctor what you see. It will help to find a solution.

And don’t forget to Carpe Diem!

Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?

— Peter Townsend