This Morning

She was weepy as she toileted this morning. I asked her what she was thinking about. Could she tell me why she was so sad?

She had been worried that she would not wake up. I did not know what to say to her. I think the tears were relief that she had another day. (I have not dreamt of my own death.)

The tears were still coming during breakfast. Her sense of impending demise was strong. I hugged her for a bit while getting her juice and coffee cake. She seemed to relax and she focused on the newspaper. I went to watch the TV news and work the Quordle.

Later as she was getting dressed, she thanked me for taking care of her last night. I had to turn away and focus on my chores for Friday. I told she was welcome before I started to tear up.

Somewhere in the recesses of her cognitive brain she is pondering the future. It seems as though she does not see very far into the future. She has a much better vision of the past and sometimes the past is current to her.

And it rises to the surface upon occasion.

I think that the hardest part of this damnable disease is the rollercoaster of feelings, emotions and moods. I have written this before but it seems like one minute after a sane normal conversation exchange the train will go off the rails.

Today is developing into one of those. It is hard to keep the caravan moving in the same direction.

Moments ago when I asked if she wanted her bedtime pills, she responded , what for? It’s daytime.

Carpe Diem

With This Ring

With this ring I thee wed. It was a long time ago and I do not remember the actual wording of our vows as I slid the wedding band on her finger. Lately she has the delusion that her wedding band belonged to her deceased sister Janice and was give given to her by her mother for safe keeping. Last evening she told me that she wanted to give it to her sister’s granddaughter.

Stories and delusional narratives like this that she makes up out of whole cloth disturb me. And, at the same time, they are very interesting to me. They are a kind of window into her confused mind.

In the past few months, Janice, is on her mind a lot. She talks to her in her sleep. She talks to her in her head during the day. She will find an old photo of Eric or Kevin and remember Jan. At night if I awaken her when I visit the bathroom, she might say, “Jan, what’s going on?”

She mixes up her sister Nancy with Janice. Nancy was very close to Janice in life. That thought mingles the two sisters in her current mind.

Occasionally she will say to me, I should call Jan and see how she is doing but I don’t know her number so I’ll call Mom first. With people dealing with dementia and confusion the experts say to go with the conversation and accept what the delusion may be at the moment. I do mostly but I avoid promotion or continuation of a mistruth. I respond with, “Think about Jan for a minute” and she will say, “oh, yeah she’s gone isn’t she?” To which I respond yes, she is but you can still talk to her in your head. You can say Hi to your Mom too. (I always worry that it will make her sad. It does not seem to do that. She seems calm with the fact that she remembers her mother and sister’s passing.)

She brought me this photograph last night that she had found in her office. Her little note “Hoo? is this” made me chuckle. I still have that Hilton Head hat and occasionally wear it in the summertime. That is her shoulder off the left of her posty note. I have a gray mustache but Cheryl’s hair is still brown. I put it on my desk to look at and remind me where we are on this road.

I have no idea who took the picture. the print date on the back is June of 2006, so, it is pre-parkinson and his damned disease.

After we had been married twenty-five years we gave each other new wedding bands to commemorate the occasion. The inscription reads Cheryl to Paul 8-29-70/95 on mine. (This is so I would not forget our wedding date. We met on the 30th of August, so, I always have had a little mental confusion about the date.) Twenty-five years down the road her fingers were more robust as were mine.

Our 25th commemorative bands are larger. About a year ago she complained that her wedding band would simply fall off her finger and she wanted to get a chain to put it on to wear around her neck like a necklace. I took her to the jeweler and we found a chain. She later discovered her original wedding band and found that it fit again after losing Parkinson weight. She has been wearing it for many months.

In the past couple days she believes it to be Jan’s wedding ring.

Carpe Diem.

Janice

Dementia and Daily life

No matter how slight in the daylight hours her dementia which is characterized by memory loss, confusion, inability to understand implied ideas (The garbage is getting full vs. Take out the garbage.), following instructions (recipes), calendar time even when displayed (Monday, October 10, 2022 at the top of the newspaper) and random association of objects (old birthday cards paper clipped to new magazines), it seems to affect every minute of every waking moment of her life. I struggle to keep her informed about what is happening or going to happen soon. It is stressful to remember my stuff and her stuff too.

Today’s topic which started at 4:20 AM this morning was a problem with the computer. Which computer I do not know but I assume it is the on in her office. It was stuck working on some background process and that was clogging up the workflow. If I had to guess it was some Norton Defender thing going on tying up resources. She has a Windows 7 operating system and takes very little to befuddle the processor. None of this happened by the way. It was all a dream that popped her out of bed at 4:20 AM. It popped me out of bed too.

After a little discussion and a trip to the toilet, I got her back to bed and I made a pseudo-check on the computer and reported to her that it would be okay in the morning. It was running a background cleanup process. She should get some more sleep and wait.

When these episodes happen in the middle of the night, I worry about her vivid dreams. She called it a nightmare probably because in her dream she had to get something done quickly. The computer was not cooperating. Lately she has had several discussions about work projects for the church and as memories about her working career. Navigating the discussion is tricky when I point out that she no longer works beyond our little condo. What few little officey jobs she did for the parish evaporated with the do over of the parish hierarchy when the Catholic Church in our area discovered they had too many buildings and not enough people.

A lot of old files and booklets still exist in her office. Lately I have been closing the door to her office at night and reporting to her that it will keep the kiddos out of her area overnight. She usually says, “Good. Thanks.”

I did not speak about the computer although I did point out that she was sleeping pretty soundly when I woke her at 9 AM and she remarked that yes she did not get up at all overnight. (She truly was dreaming when I talked to her at 4:20 AM.) I affirmed her comment and helped her get up. I did not mention 4:20 AM. (Am I harping on 4:20 AM? Yep.)

After she ate her cereal and as I was passing through the coffee pot one more time, she remarked that she hoped the computer was okay. I did not expound on that but suggested she should check later when she had a chance. She did and reported all was well.

Carpe 4:20 AM Diem. (I could not resist.)

Nighttime Conversations

She was still awake when I came to bed after reading for awhile. This conversation ensued.

C. – Dan is that you?

me – No it is me Paul.

C. – Oh. You’re here now?

me – Yes. Is that okay?

C. – Where are Jan and the rest of the kids?

me – Gone now I guess. They must have gone home.

C. – Okay. Are you staying here?

me. – Yes. Try to get some sleep. I’ll stay here with you.


In the morning as I got her awake. I had checked on her a few times earlier but at quarter ’til ten I gently urged her awake. She said, “There were a lot of people around here last night.” I replied, “Who did you see?” She replied, ” I didn’t see anybody but I could hear them.”

When she sees people they are very real to her. Before going to bed we had tried to play Scrabble for a bit. Scrabble was her favorite game for many years. We had not played it for about a year and a half. I thought I made a cool discovery. I tripped over a Merriam website called scrabble.merriam.com that helps to find words with certain letters at the beginning, end or containing them. I told her about it and showed her how to search on the website look up page on the laptop. It was too much for her.

She became tired and put on pajamas and got ready for bed. As i helped her take her bedtime meds, she asked me something about her sister Jan. She wanted to save some information for her about the upcoming Sunflower Rev it up for Parkinson’s fund raiser. She then asked me for Jan’s phone number.

It is hard for me to get a grip on conversations like this. I start first by asking if she knows where Jan is. Sometimes she remembers Jan is deceased. When she remembers this I tell her to merely close her eyes and talk to her. This time however she did not remember that Jan was no longer here. I reminded her that Jan was in heaven to which she replied, “Yes, she is talking to mom about it. Do you think you can find a number?” I told her I would look for it in the morning.

It is morning and she has not asked me for the telephone number yet. But there were a lot of people here last night in her head.

Carpe Diem.

Apathy and Living

Has she apathy? As we move forward it seems to me that she cares less about day to day activities. She seems to recede into her own thoughts but not as a prevailing occupation. I think of it as apathy-not-quite. When she gets in this mode it’s often temporary.  She is tired from some activity.

Specifically activities like taking a shower,  getting cleaned up,   physical therapy sessions or exercise classes are obviously tiring for a PD sufferer. Something as easy as thinking about what is next seems to tire her out also. It like a temporary apathy.  Procrastination?

It starts with, ” I don’t think I can go to… exercise class, church, physical therapy…” Admittedly it takes a lot for anyone to be motivated to exercise. It was not a big part of our lives when we were younger. Neither of us were sports buffs. My main sport riding my bike. There is a solitude to doing that which I am unwilling to give up or share. As her care partner, it is frustrating for me that she cannot observe how much she is helped by exercise and her PT sessions. She seems to not remember. It seems like she is going merely because I am taking her there.

When Cheryl gets in this mode (mood?), I turn the corner to something else. I am resistant to letting her go on and isolate herself in her little office area thinking, punding and organizing. I take her out. Anywhere works as long as it is out of our condo.

Yesterday I took her one of our local county parks that we have not visited for a long time. Afterward we went for ice cream at a nearby Dairy Queen. I had planned to make dinner at home but she suggested we find barbecue somewhere. This being an odd suggestion because it seems to upset her stomach often and she says never again later in the evening. We did not find the barbecue place to be amenable to folks with mobility issues so we landed at one of our old favorites and ordered something different than we usually get so the newness was preserved. On the way home she thanked me for taking her to Lake Erie and she told me a story about when she was very young.

In the early days of her father running his own gas station which was a life long dream of his, he rarely took any vacation time. It seems one of his friends had a vacation cabin up near Lake Erie and not far from Port Clinton. There is a park nearby called East Harbor State Park. Our walk by the shore of a much smaller lake in the park much closer than Lake Erie must have taken her mentally back to her childhood and a very fond memory. We visited the same area a few years ago and visited East Harbor. She talked at length about the trip with her mom and dad. She thanked me for getting her there and back in the same day.

I started this writing and contemplating apathy, but maybe it’s projective (mine) apathy? Or predictive apathy? Or apathy is the wrong word? (indifference? passivity?) Or is it poor sleeping patterns? This morning she got up at quarter til ten which means that she was in bed for about eleven hours. She awakened this morning from the same position she fell into when she got in bed. On the previous evening she went to bed very late after midnight and slept very little. (As a result I slept little also.)

Is apathy and memory related? I wonder about ideas like this. Perhaps she cannot remember that she seemed to enjoy herself the last time we went there? Wherever there is.

When I finally teased Cheryl awake this morning, she opened her eyes and asked, “Is Mary Pat here?” An amusing opening question about the day. I smiled and told her, ” No Mary Pat is not here. I think you were dreaming about her.” I have no idea where the Mary Pat (a childhood and current) friend thought came from but she has talked to her a couple times over the past few weeks.

I encourage her to talk to her friends when she gets excited about some memory or misconceived thought. Many of them have had strange conversations with her about things. I used to be embarrassed for her and, at first, discouraged these phone calls which she often decides to do later in the evening. But as I thought about it I decided that it was not my place to absorb or accept or become embarrassed for her. Her friends know her state of mind. They are wonderful people and she is blessed to have them as life long friends.

Focus, cognitive abilities, caring, likes and dislikes are all related to memory issues. Staying active no matter how small that activity is helps.

Carpe Diem.

I Want to go Home

A recurring theme in Cheryl’s head is “when are we going home?” I try at first to answer this by saying that’s good because we are already there. This rarely works. Sometimes it merely makes her angry with me.

The conversation is confusing when we reach this point. I can say to her, okay put on some clothes and we will get some lunch and come home. So, how would you find clothes for you in a place where you did not live? This is the first confusion but she accepts the fact that she has all her clothes here without accepting the truth of “home”. Even I am confused.

Later today, she is dressing now, we will go find some lunch somewhere and come home again.

Physical therapy is on the schedule for later this afternoon. Hopefully she will be tired after this activity.

Carpe Diem.

Who am I?

Last night was a peaceful night. Cheryl laid down in the big new bed at 10:30 or so. I finished up a couple things and joined her at a quarter ’til 11. It was a restful night. I awakened to go to the toilet at 6:30 am and so did she. Cheryl laid down again but I got up.

At about eight I went to check on her. She was awake laying in bed. The creaky door had startled her. I apologized for wakening her from her dreamy state. As I closed the door to return to the living room this conversation ensued;

Cheryl – Who am I?

Me – You are Cheryl.

Cheryl – And who are you?

Me – I am Paul. We’ve been married for about 50 years.

Cheryl – Well, happy anniversary!

I do not know what to make of this conversation. As I left the room she added, I love you.

I can understand that in the early morning hours she is a little more confused than normal. She is still tired. I do not know how well she slept. I can report that the couple of times I got up overnight she was in the same position. She moves little when she sleeps during the night. At about 5 am she was having a conversation with someone in her sleep but she often has these conversations. I do not always hear them.

We will see what the day brings. So far, my youngest son has invited us to dinner on Father’s Day which is Sunday.

Carpe Diem.

God Makes a Way Out of No Way

Sen. Warnock from Georgia and pastor of Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta says this often when he preaches. He found inspiration from his father who told him every day, get your clothes on, put on your shoes! His dad’s point was only you can do it. No one can do it for you. It is up to you and your attitude.

He is a pastor of southern Baptist convention. I am not a Baptist but the lesson is not lost no matter your faith or lack there of. It is up to you to make a difference in your own life and the lives of those around you. No one can do it for you nor should expect for someone else to do it.

We have to start with ourselves. Let God in. He will make a way if you let Him.

Today is a good day to start.

Carpe Diem

History of Overnight

It occurs to me this morning after another overnight of strange behavior that discussing her actions overnight has no useful purpose. So, I have not this morning. I will wait and see if I need to discuss it with someone else.

Part of Carpe Diem is to stay in the present. The past is the past and while it gives me a hint as to what is coming, it is a very dim view with poor illumination.

Carpe Diem.