Caregiver diversions

Weird Dreams

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Last night I had an odd dreaming experience. Odd because the story line was strange and very real. Odd because it is staying with me as a memory. Odd because the visual is a strange combination of objects.

I wonder where dreams come from in my brain.

A couple weeks ago I dreamt about Cheryl. That does not seem weird to me based on the fact that she recently passed away and left me on my own in the world. I thank her every day for giving me the opportunity to complete my training.

Last night’s dream was an odd theme. I had become a rookie police officer. (What?) In this dream story I did not feel out of place until my training officer left me standing by the road without any way to communicate except a small hand held radio with an almost expired battery. As I moved away from the radio car, the view changed to a factory office setting with old metal office chairs and a metal desk. There were few pens to write with although I was supposed to write something down.

The only object to write on is the back of what looks like a tablet or video screen. It is a molded plastic surface.

I became bored with the assignment and began to wonder if this was some sort of hazing experience. Was my training officer coming back? I woke up to go to the toilet and while I was doing that I wondered what kind of dream was that? Where did that come from? Returning to bed I took up the story some more to see how it would turn out. It was like a streaming video series. It did not turn into anything.

My training officer returned to give me another pen and another strange object to write on and left again. I began to worry that I might not get home.

I woke up again thankful I was in my bedroom.

Just weird. And vivid as I write this I can see it in my memory as a visual. Much the same as I can recall the view from the overlook in the Grand Canyon National Park. Grand Canyon is a decades old memory.

It is a good memory though. I took this picture of Cheryl there. It is my favorite image of her. When I wake up my tablet to do the puzzles in the morning this image of her greets me. I miss her but I have no inclination to become a police officer.

Just weird. Where do dreams come from? What could this one possibly mean? If it means anything at all.

Carpe Diem.

She Made Me think for a Bit

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Have you ever lived on your own before?, Natalie asked me. An innocent question on her part, I am pretty sure. We talk about sundry topics while she is cleaning. I appreciate the fact that she wants to know more about me. I think.

She made me think about it. The answer is no. I moved out of Mom and Dad’s house to our apartment in Oxford. Cheryl was slightly more experienced.

She was resident at the high school she attended but lived in a dormitory situation with many girls around her there. She lived at home in the summer. She had a tough guy for a dad who told the head of the novitiate program that when Cheryl was under her care she would do what she said and when Cheryl was home for the summer she would do whatever he said. That was after some discussion about dating boys.

Thanks, Bob.

Natalie’s question added nuance to my current situation. Another background spice that makes the flavor so new to me. I am 74. I have never in my entire life lived by myself. So far, it is not bad and yet it sucks too. Maybe I need a list.

PROSCONS
laundry can lay around until laterdo own laundry
cook own food – experimentcook own food
do whatever during day, no rulesno schedule, no rules
go wherever during dayable to eat ice cream for breakfast
get up whenever – early or latemake own bed
only thing holding me back is meonly thing holding me back is me
only consideration is mehome feels empty
I am sure there are more.

Maybe I do not need a list. Although a list does make me think of Cheryl and her lists. I have kept many that she made and put in her office when I cleaned it up.

There are pros and cons to those thoughts also.

Carpe Diem.

I am Still Learning

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It is possible to keep learning as one ages. I have found over the past few years that as I learned prayerful and careful concepts by taking care of Cheryl, I learned much about myself and my own motivations and along with that my own emotions. Today a new inner desire, perhaps need, has come to me.

Two days ago I received a copy of my collage of photos that I had printed on glass. I remember sitting up late two weeks ago searching for online special printing folks. Cheryl was still alive then. Why it became urgent to get that made at 12:30 AM is not important now. At the time it was an urgency for me. The following Monday morning she was gone.

In anxiety about not having it in time I found Northside Printing a local specialty printing business that specializes in specialty printing. I took my collage to them to have it printed on a big format to display at Cheryl’s service on Monday.

The more that I look at this collection of smile photos, photos of good times and family, I notice that the image of her in ill health and death fades from my memory. It is still there but what I think of first is her wonderful smile. It lights up my heart and helps me move past the Parkinson and dementia.

Often when someone dies, close friends and relatives create a memorial shrine. They do this to help them with the loss. I did not understand the importance of this action when I would see flowers and a cross along side the road but many years ago I found myself near the site of the Oklahoma City bombing and a fence filled with small stuffed animals left as a memorial to all the children killed in that tragedy. It saddened me at the time.

This morning I found myself hunting for the perfect place to assemble my thinking space to remember the good times and Cheryl’s smile.

I have started to do this on the left mirror of her dresser. That is the spot she would often stand to brush and comb her hair. She would pick up her hair spray and shake it a little. That would be my cue to get out of the room so that I did not smell like hair spray. The last step was to spray a little Chantilly into the air and walk through it. My grand daughter Virginia now has the leftover Chantilly. Cheryl likes that fact. She just told me while I was typing this story.

Carpe Diem. And carpe all of the special moments in your life. Later you will savor them as I am now.

Godspeed Cheryl.

Music – Nostalgia and Healing

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Lately I have noticed how the residents at the Harbor at Bridgeway Pointe seem to perk up and take part in the music that gets played occasionally either as a part of Hospice care or BP’s effort to provide activities for them. Most residents have some physical inability to participate fully and yet they do their part. Music has this effect on everyone.

One day when I returned to my little condo I looked at our old stereo and drug the two plastic tubs of LPs that had made the cut to our new place from the old one. Once before Cheryl and had done this but it has been a few years now.

I have played several old albums during the past few evenings. We have quite a collection of stuff. She tended toward Johnny Mathias and the Four Tops. I tended toward the Iron Butterfly and the Doors but intermingled in the tubs with those are Carly Simon, Crosby Stills & Nash, Peter Paul & Mary and Linda Ronstadt (another parkie). Growing up in the late 60’s and married in the early 70’s, I was very tuned into the Vietnam War and the associated commotion that it stirred up in my generation. So, there are a lot of folk singers in the tubs.

Listening and not listening to Crosby, Stills and Nash this morning, Steven Stills started singing, ” Helplessly hoping her harlequin hovers nearby awaiting a word.” I quit working the quordle for a minute and listened carefully. The refrain, ” They are one person. They are two alone. They are three together. They are for each other.” made me cry and think about Cheryl.

“Wordlessly watching he waits by the window and wonders at the emptiness inside.” – Steven Stills. 1969 Gold Hill Music Inc.

I needed a bit of nostalgia. This song and these words have a different meaning to me today. I will spend some time thinking about this today. I think Cheryl is getting close to the end and it breaks my heart. It is hard to find good in any of this situation.

Carpe the damn Diem and keep looking.

Dear Cheryl

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Today I came to visit and you are sleeping again. So, I think that I will sit with you for a bit in your room and write you this letter.

Yesterday was a busy day for you. The Hospice aide came to give you a bath, I came after lunch and we went outside to the garden to sit in the sun, Allison came to do your hair ( it looks good) and Mike came late afternoon to check your vitals and see how you are doing. You were busy with lots of stuff.

Today it looks like you’re worn out.

When I talked to you, you did not respond. I kissed you on the cheek and you did not stir. So, my conclusion is that you are very tired and I will not disturb you.

Robert Thomas called the other day. He is going to come and visit in early May. Our plan (his mostly) is to ride bikes a lot and see where we get to. I have ridden my bike a couple of times this week when the weather was good. Once around the loop in Winton to see if I could deal with the helmet and the dog collar around my neck. It seems okay but the neck collar pushes the helmet up in back so that it is hard to see forward. It is easy to see my front tire. Yesterday I went down to Lunken to see how high the river was. It has covered the bike path under the Beechmont bridge. The fence is covered up so it must be six or seven feet deep under the bridge.

This neck stretcher really restricts movement of my head. In the short periods when it is off and I gently turn my head, it hurts to turn it very far to the side. I think that when I get it off in a couple of weeks I will be glad to restart my chair yoga and balance exercises. I am looking forward to that.

Billie and Fran and I are going to meet for lunch next week. You might remember them from when I worked in Sharonville. Anyway we are Facebook friends and thought it would be good to have lunch together one day. Billie has had some recent health issues and so has her husband. I am interested to know if Fran is still doing her flea market thing and what else she’s been up to in her life.

I have not planned any activity today. I was watching the weather all week and today was supposed to be raining, overcast  and cool. My thought was to sit with you, so I am doing that. You however are sound asleep. They must have gotten you cleaned up and dressed this morning. Did you tell Jennifer that you were not interested in getting up today when she asked you? (My guess is yes. )

I have been here for more than an hour and it appears that you are not going to awaken. I will let you rest and come back later.

As I left the Harbor I talked to Tonya, the nurse supervisor. She told me that you did not take your medication today and that you were breathing oddly earlier and she had called Mike the hospice nurse. He will come in a little bit to check you.

I love you and missed your company today. I had hoped to sit and hold hands like we did yesterday. The sun is supposed to be back tomorrow, although, it will be a bit cooler. We can still go outside tomorrow. I will put your brown jacket on you to go into the garden.

Paul

Today Too day Two day

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I got up earlier than usual, although not that much earlier. I did not sleep well. I have little idea why that I did not sleep well. Often I wonder why that is or why other things are. There often is no answer to; Why?

Small children ask this of their parents. My parents are both gone so I have no one bigger or more elder to me to ask, “Why?”.

Y is also the second to last letter in the English alphabet. Z, the last letter, is often used in graphic novels and comic strips to indicate that the character is sleeping. Why comes just before Sleep. Sleep is how Jesus refers to Lazarus in that story in the Bible.

Yesterday I visited with my son. We sat in the sunshine in his backyard enjoying some time together. My daughter-in-law is off on a trip with her mother visiting a new niece. They currently live in Spain so that child will eventually ask, “por qué ?​” (thank goodness for Google translate.)

This morning as I sat and watched the CBS morning news with little interest, I noticed my neighbor Pat walking to and fro past my window as she worked on her garden in the rear of our property. Why am I watching this show which has failed to capture my interest on this beautiful sunny day in Ohio? Perhaps I should get up and get my bike out. Why not? I have this wonderful neck brace on my neck. Why should that stop me from doing something that I truly enjoy. Perhaps I can go on a short ride before I go to visit Cheryl today.

Why not? I am done sleeping. Perhaps it is time for a little extracurricular activity.

Carpe Diem!

Dear Cheryl

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Dear Cheryl,

It has been exactly four weeks since I have written to you. The days blend together, so, ever since you have moved to Bridgeway Pointe, I have kept a journal of how you appear to me, your moods, your alertness, my thoughts and other things. As I look through this log of information about the past few weeks I noted many things that have happened during the last four weeks.

A couple days after I wrote the last letter, I was enjoying the sunset with some of our neighbors and was a little more inebriated than I thought at the time and fell while getting up from my chair. I admit to myself that I was feeling a little sad when I came home from visiting you that day. I do not know why. You appeared frail and I noted that I cried when I first saw you that day. I suppose that was still with me when I returned home to make myself dinner. For whatever reason I give myself, I found the bottle of vodka that I had in the freezer and added a little sprite to it in a glass. ( I was out of tonic. ) It was sweeter than I like but I imagined watching the sun go down while I was waiting for the casserole I had put together cook in the oven. Two of our neighbors showed up to join me and all was well until I fell on my face. I must have knocked myself out because I have little memory of the incident until I was looking at a fireman who strongly suggested that I go to the hospital. I had no interest in doing that but I gave in and went anyway. Now I have this collar to wear that you see me in when I come to visit. And now I know what an annoying experience that must have been for you when you were taken to the hospital over the past several years. Although I was not hallucinating at night, sleeping was like trying to get forty winks in a busy elevator.

I went to the hospital on Thursday evening. I came back home on Sunday afternoon. Sleeping on Sunday night was wonderful. I made it to six hours before my bladder took me to the bathroom. All of our kids came to visit with me on Friday. Scott gave me a ride home on Sunday. Anna and David and Scott visited you and me that whole weekend. We have wonderful children.

On Monday I was a little stiff and wearing an old set of eyeglasses. I could see okay but not comfortable driving with my new neck apparel. Your sister, Nancy, offered to drive me over to Bridgeway Pointe so that is what happened on Monday, bloody Monday. About every other day of that week you were sleeping when I came and Nancy gave me a ride to visit another day and we rode you around the building that day. You were more alert and Nancy seemed pleased to do it.

On Monday March 25th I went to see Lauren, our PCP folk. Her office called me the Monday after I got home from the hospital to check on me and ask if I wanted to come in for a visit. I admitted to her that I felt a little sad that day and asked her if there was a grief counselor or psychologist I could talk to about me. I am not sure what I want to get out of such an encounter. Sometimes when I leave you to come home I feel an overwhelming sadness. I did that Thursday a few weeks ago. I thought to have several drinks. That was a normal, I suppose, and stupid reaction. I will have to be aware of that when it creeps up on me. Perhaps I should just call Joyce or your sister Nancy and talk about what I am feeling. I am unsure about how talking to a complete stranger or a group of complete strangers will help. Joyce asked me if it affected my manliness when I felt sad and teary-eyed with others around. I replied that it did not bother me so much but I wished that it would not happen. She pointed out to me that you are a very important person in my life and although you have not passed on from this Earth, in many ways you have passed on from me and that is always going to be hard on me. (I think it is not so hard on you because you seem off somewhere else most days when I come to visit.)

Anna had a party for Virginia’s Birthday. She is sweet sixteen now. Do you remember what a cute two year old she was? I spent David’s birthday in the hospital. I wished him a happy birthday when he came to visit me.

Britney called me on the phone one evening as I was driving home from kissing you good night. She said you had slid out of your wheelchair as they were getting you into bed for the evening. Are you having a harder time sitting up in that chair? Or were you in a hurry to get into bed? I remember when you were home with me sometimes you went to bed early and were in a hurry to get there.

On Easter Sunday when I came to visit, You asked me where I was going today. I told you that I was going to Anna’s house for the afternoon for a cookout. I noted this in my journal because of two things; your voice was very plain and understandable when you asked, it seemed to me to be a very lucid thought. After you asked me that, you said; good, I am going to stay here today. (I noted a small patch of lucidity.)

I took the seat cushion from your wheelchair home to clean it on April Fools Day. It needed it. I traded the other cushion from the kitchen chairs with you. The last time I washed it I had to chase the washer around the utility room. It was out of balance after the cushion had sucked up ten pounds of water from the wash cycle. This time I thought that I would just soak it in the utility sink. I put about six inches of hot water in it and added a little bleach to the water. (It looked like you may have leaked a little onto it one day.) After soaking overnight it had these vivid purplish stains on it. There must be some metal in whatever it is stuffed with. Bleach reacts with a couple different metals to produce a purplish stain. Its clean but it looks bad.

This situation we are in, as I watch you become more and more frail. And as I watch you lose more and more weight. This whole process makes me worry about losing the picture in my head of your lovely smile. I have made a new project for myself of making a collage of you and your smile. So far it is pretty good, I think. I printed it out for you here so you can see for yourself and judge. I do not have a copy of every picture. There are many. On the next page you can see what it looks like so far. I am still searching for one or two other pictures that I know I have but with the cleanup I have been doing around our house I have placed them in a safe place where they will not be lost. I have not found that place back yet.

I have learned many things over the past four weeks. Do not drink vodka if I am sad. Beer will make me get up for a trip to the toilet more often and the alcohol is more dilute.

Avoid overnight stays in a hospital.

I am not interested in puzzles. I tried to become interested after one of the trips to Bridgeway Pointe with your sister. (new hobby and all that…) I have had it partially assembled on the dining room table for about two and a half weeks. I am told that real puzzle workers do not leave them dissembled out for that long. All I can say is that I am not that interested.

I am interested in writing more. I have a loose collection of stories that I call a hitchhiker’s guide to parkinson. That is much like a puzzle to me. Fitting it together as a story and memoir of our last fifteen years or so is a goal. Whether I achieve it or not is up to me.

A total eclipse of the sun is a magnificent sight. I shall remember it forever.

My journal is becoming more than a log of you and how you are. Two days ago I felt that my sourdough starter was far enough along to use it to make a loaf. Over that day I came to visit with you three times while I was waiting for it to proof and develop. At the end of the day after dinner and I got the loaf out of the oven, I came back over to Bridgeway Pointe to visit you. This is what I wrote that night when I returned home: I use this book to write about Cheryl and how she is doing but tonight I was disappointed that she was already in bed. I suppose I could sit with her in the darkened room but I sat on the edge of the bed for a short time and held her hand. I kissed her good night and went home disappointed. — I wanted to sit with her like we used to do.

(In the evening, some nights I really miss just sitting with you – maybe we watch TV, maybe we just talk, maybe you beat me at Scrabble, maybe I read a book and you are sewing on some project.)

Cheryl that is all I have for now. I have tried to catch you up on all the doings that happened since last I wrote. Know always that I love you.

Paul

Carpe Diem

A Budding Scientist

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One of the hidden benefits of my sister-in-law’s retirement from her lifelong private babysitting business is the fact that Zane her grandson often comes to help his mom spruce up my condo. Zane came yesterday and brought his rock collection. He is so proud of it.

I have many magnification devices and he had none, so, I gave him one of mine so that he could further explore his collection and expand his knowledge of his world. I also gave him a special Rubbermaid rock case to house his collection. He seemed satisfied with both

I snapped a few photos of the future STEM student. I am hoping that Zane will come to help his mom often. And I hope he will keep up his interest in geology.

It is unlikely that his interest in rocks will last throughout his lifetime but it might. Maybe many years from now when I am gone he will remember the good time he had yesterday examining his collect with the special magnifying glass Uncle Paul gave him.

He has such a great smile.

Carpe Diem.

After the Eclipse

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Scott figured out the exposure controls on his phone and took this picture. All I got was a blob of white light. The corona is still quite bright and phones have poor optics.

Leading up to and leading away from the time of totality, the light takes on an odd quality. In much the same fashion as just after a fierce rain storm, a thunderstorm, the light is oddly yellowish. It is dimmer of course but it is diminished and yellowish.

After the eclipse, young people’s conversation was about other things in their lives. My thoughts were about what I had just witnessed. I think I was a little awestruck and underneath the complete shadow, I felt a little sad. The sadness passed quickly as the awe took over.

After the eclipse shadow passed over us the newly blooming tulips where opening back up. The plants had closed their eyes for the night when the moon blocked out the sun.

Sunlight was dim but getting brighter. Little half moons appeared where the sunlight filtered through the bushes nearby.

Mostly though my thoughts went to Cheryl. Cheryl was fascinated with astrological phenomena. I was saddened that I could not enjoy the spectacle with her. I spent some time thinking of her reaction and discussing what we saw. We talked at length about how magnificent the corona appeared once the moon completely shut off the rays of the sun. She noted that she felt chilly when the shadow of the moon was directly overhead. (I am glad she did not need me to get her jacket from the car.) I told her that I noticed that the wind had kicked up somewhat . I supposed because the air was cooler. Many but not all of the birds stopped chattering to each other. I asked her if she had noticed the eerie sunset like quality to the horizon in all directions. This was unexpected for me.

Perhaps this is a way to mentally deal with grief, just simply talk to her. Later when I go to find the northern lights she can see them with me.

Carpe Diem.

Almost Losing My Head

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Falling down and injuring myself has captured my thoughts for the time being. Some lessons can only be learned from one’s own experience.

The first and maybe the most important one is pretty straightforward. I am older than my brain is willing to accept. Maybe I should be more careful about things. Not surprisingly I am much less athletic than I used to be when I was a younger man.

The second is no longer will I focus on strength training. Exercise focus will be endurance and balance based. If the particular exercise helps with those things I will include it. Biking and yoga are two exercise activities that I am drawn to in particular .

The third idea is perhaps I should seek out help to deal with ongoing grief.

Carpe Diem