Love and Life

Christmas and Parkinson

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Cheryl has it in her head that Christmas is any minute now. The calendar fact that Halloween is next week does not dissuade her vision of the immediate future. Often when she makes comments almost daily now about cards, cookies, toys and generally shopping for the grand kiddos, I correct her and point out that we have about eight weeks to go before we need to worry.

We have only one grand child under the age of fifteen. My secret grand plan was to give every kid money and let them go find something that they covet. Zachary is only five so shopping for him takes us back to when the parents were that small. Good memories and fun times were had by all and I admit I like to shop for little people. (Maybe I should tell my soon to be fifty year old daughter that her mom is getting her a Raggedy Ann for Christmas. Be surprised and delighted. Is Raggedy Ann still around?)

So why are men so obstinate? Why am I stuck on correcting her delusion about the calendar time? I am not going to let her miss anything. She seems to not be disappointed when she indicates Christmas is next week and I say, no it is the week after or some such other baloney to satisfy her that the perceived need is not urgent. She wants to put up some Christmasy decorations. Why not? What is the harm if it satisfies her that all is in readiness?

Cookies

Two days ago like many days previous she wanted to make cookies for Christmas. Yesterday early in the day I put together the dough in preparation. It was our intention to make the cookies after we came home from dinner last evening. It did not happen as we became distracted with watching a couple PBS shows that are our favorites. I promised today after exercise class we would make cookies.

After a little lunch we got started on the cookies. In my maleness I sort of bossed her out of the way to start the process. Why I did that I am still discerning. Maybe in another life I will know why or not. She wanted to make the dough balls for the snicker doodles. I reluctantly backed off shifted into check-on-her mode.

Music

I once worked for a small company that had a six hour loop tape of Christmas music that played on the hold line of the office phone. One of the partners had read a book about how office workers liked to hear and were more efficient with music playing. He piped the hold music into the overhead speakers. It was like working in an elevator that was stuck on the wrong floor. It was agony.

She said to me, “Get your music machine out and turn on Christmas music.” She means Alexa. I cringed when she told to do that. I think I grumped a little too and then I went to get the hockey puck I move around to listen to music. A Christmas song or two in among others is okay. WARM 98’s idea of solid Christmas music, old, new, good, bad, chipmunks, Benedictine monks, rock and roll, country-western, some group of nuns, Bing Crosby, etc. a few years ago lost me as a listener. That was not a big deal to them since I rarely listened to their station. Five weeks of Christmas music is agony to my ear. I feared the worst was going to happen – Christmas carols from Halloween to Christmas. There would be no “Monster Mash”. I said loudly, “Alexa, play Christmas music!”

Christmas music always makes Cheryl nostalgic. She remembers the olden days when she was a child. Nostalgia makes people tear up. Cheryl is no different. With her version of Parkinson, her emotions are on her sleeve. “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” started coming from Alexa. Bing was doing he usual great job. Cheryl was five when this movie became a favorite in the post war ‘50s. In the middle of scooping cookie dough into one inch balls she started to cry. There is nothing I can say to assuage her nostalgia and longing for her childhood. Those are most of the only clear memories that she has. A runny nose and drippy eyes are not useful for rolling cookie dough into balls for snicker-doodles so I eased her out of the way into a chair while I finished rolling the cookies.

I suppose we will do cards another day. Why are men so obstinate?

Carpe Diem.

Furniture Rearranging

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It is possible that my thought about how to better utilize our space will cause me great heartache. I asked my son and grandson over to do a bit of furniture rearrangement. We do not seem to be as focused on the television as we once were in an earlier part of the journey with Parkinson. Stimulus money from two different administrations left us with new furniture and extra sleeping facilities. The living room remained focused on the television like some early 1980’s sitcom living room. I wanted to change that look. I read mostly but there are a couple shows I like to watch. Cheryl rarely sits for more that 20 minutes to watch anything. She seems to struggle with any story line in any show. So the television is no longer a focal point.

I turned the whole room 90 degrees with the help of my son and grandson. We moved the dining area around a bit also and now the walkways are a little wider to allow for walkers and mobility aids. I have made one slight adjustment. Her recliner is electric and I put it closer to the wall to hide the cord. I have since moved her recliner to the other side of the end table (away from the wall) and hide the wires under my chair and the end table (side table). Her chair is now approximately in the same position as it was previously just turned about 90 degrees. She is comfortable with that position.

She asked me if we need to notify anyone of our new address and she wants to know if she will need a new key. Moving the furniture around makes her think that we have moved to a new condo. I told her that I had the locks keyed like the old ones so no new keys were necessary. I also dutifully instructed the kids and neighbors of our new/not new address.

Dementia is amazing in its scope. In Cheryl’s case location in time and space are intertwined. If I knew the phone number for heaven I could help her call her mom. Sometimes she wants to do that.

Heaven’s phone bank – Hello Heaven. Gabriel speaking. How may I direct your call?

Carpe Diem.

Grace

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Recently a classmate and friend of Cheryl passed away. Sister Mary Claire Hausfeld was not in Cheryl’s ICA class. Cheryl went to grade school with her and Mary Claire went to OLA high school. She found her vocation after high school. But that is not what I want to tell you about.

In a wonderful and well written obituary about Mary Claire and her life of service S. Delouise Menges writes about grace in Mary Claire’s life and how to recognize grace in our lives.

This poem by Marilyn Chandler McEntyre that Mary Claire used in prayer is a beautiful and touching meditation.

How to recognize grace

It takes you by surprise

It comes in odd packages

It sometimes looks like loss

Or mistakes

It acts like rain

Or like a seed

It’s both reliable and unpredictable

It’s not what you were aiming at

Or what you thought you deserved

It supplies what you need

Not necessarily what you want

It reminds you, you’re not in control

And that not being in control is a form of freedom

I have read this over several times and the line that strikes me most is “And that not being in control is a form of freedom”.

This life of Parkinson gives that statement new perspective. Little of our life is able to be controlled and I for one would like life to at least be predictable. It is not predictable either and that can be a form of freedom if you let it.

Carpe Diem.

October 2, 2022

One More Thing

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There is always one more thing to do, one more chore to accomplish, just one more job. The unpaid but highly rewarding job of care partner is filled with unrelenting detail and a never ending series of little jobs. The list is long. New things are added often.

Take some time to reflect. Cheryl’s creeping dementia does not allow her learn new things or compensating techniques easily. And she may not learn them at all. She might learn the reverse. Always be encouraging even as you as care partner become discouraged.

Carpe Diem

Enjoy the rest of it.

Whatever it may be.

Help where you can. Sometimes she will refuse the help. Help anyway.

Double Carpe Diem.

I Found Words from Dad

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I found this old letter in among other pictures from my mother. I have a couple plastic tubs of “Mom and misc.” Recently I was looking through these looking for something else.

For awhile I thought about Dad and our relationship. I found in my memory stories that I have about him.

When you think about people who have died, they are alive again. At least for a little while they are here with us.

Carpe Diem.

It was a Good Breakfast, Dear.

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It is important to try making it into a nice day. A few weeks ago another Cheryl wrote on her blog – just let it go – or words to that effect. As we move further down this road of Parkinson I find ways to simply make life more enjoyable.

Cheryl likes egg bread. It is a memory from her childhood. My mother always called it french toast. I do not know what the French call it which sent me on a quest for knowledge from the internet of all knowledge. They call it pain perdu and that translates into lost bread. French toast (pain perdu) is always better if it is made with stale bread. It is better in my opinion if it is made from stale sourdough bread.

This morning I coaxed her awake with the thought of french toast with blue berries and a little whipped cream. This is a picture of mine. She was already eating hers when I decided to take this picture. She had slept late today but it is a good day.

French toast (aka eggbread)

“It was a good breakfast, dear”, she said to me as I was loading my plate into the dishwasher. We have no real plans for today. Perhaps I will take her for ice cream later in the afternoon. Perhaps not. We will just go with the flow today.

Carpe Diem

A Never Ending Search

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Breakfast

In my never ending search for a good day for Cheryl, this morning I went to a little donut shop near us and bought a dozen from Maggie. I had not purchased donuts from Maggie for some time.

Linda was coming over today to sit with Cheryl. I was intending to ride my bike around Lunken and the Ohio river trail. I asked Linda what kind of donuts she liked last night. The chocolate iced ones are hers. I sent this picture to her in a text this morning. She appeared early.

The donuts were only hours old. Ron makes them overnight.

Donuts used to be $11 a dozen with coffee. Today they were $14 a dozen without coffee. That is twenty-seven per cent more for you math weenies out there. It might be more considering the coffee. Inflationary pressure has finally come to donuts. Gasoline prices are down. Donuts are up. Darn.

I went to ride my bike. When I had returned Natalie was almost finished cleaning our little condo.

I made chicken Parmesan for dinner. We went to a little ice cream shop for dessert.

It was another good day.

Carpe Diem.

More Things I have Learned

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After a sleepless night and an early rising at 5:30 am I begin to doubt my great idea of buying a new bed so we could sleep better. The last couple of nights have been a build up to last night’s insomnia.

After that experience I notice a couple of things. We are both on edge. She is upset that I am angry that she could not sleep and wants to offer an explanation. I am only-one-cup-of-coffee cranky and unwilling to accept any explanation made up out of whole cloth. As the day continues we will ease up and move on as we recognize that we both are very tired.

Most nights the big new bed has made a huge difference in our sleep. Lately I have been letting her sleep in a bit because it seemed to me that she was very tired in the morning. The LOUD AND ANNOYING clock did not wake her up. I think that will change.

I Have Learned

  • Kindness returns after 2 mugs of black coffee
  • Cheeriness requires more coffee
  • Grumpy can last all day if you allow it to.
  • Maybe listen to the explanation while getting more coffee
  • Get her to take 7am meds and get breakfast
  • If she wants to make Christmas cookies, let her.
  • Her conversations will wander all over the place when she has slept poorly.

Carpe Diem.

bump-n-run

It Seems Counter-intuitive

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Cheryl has some dementia which is a nuisance with her decision making process. Any attempt at speeding her up doesn’t seem to work well. She merely gets angry and frustrated with her husband. And it is hard for her husband to not speed her up. That must be fifty-two years of helping getting in the way of care partnership. (Smiley Face)

This morning I tried to move her along without being pushy. Yes, I can be and have been pushy.

She wakened several times overnight to go to the toilet. I got up to help her once. So, when the seven am medication alarm went off, she ignored it. I got up to remove that annoyance from my ears and get her first dose of stuff for the day. When I returned her snoring indicated disinterest in arising for the day.

I laid back down to see if she would stir again. When I awakened it was eight am. I must have been tired also.

Eventually I left the bedroom to make coffee, get the papers and turn on the news to discover which part of California is on fire. An hour or so later I kissed her awake and she asked me when church started. I told her that she had exercise class at noon. I left to drink more coffee and to listen to the interesting fact that no toilets could be flushed in Mississippi. I returned for another gentle nudge and she got up.

I suggested scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast and she readily agreed. I continued with gentle nudges and quit concerning myself with whether she would be late for her class. She was not late.

The exercise classes she takes at Parkinson Community Fitness are a benefit to her so I make every attempt to get there on time but today I tried a not pushy technique. I call today’s strategy “bump and run.” I would engage her and nudge her thoughts and then leave. I came back a few minutes later for another bump and run. It worked and neither of us was upset when we left.

Today’s class was led by Paige and Jenna. Jenna’s notes are here. The rowing person is excited to do the exercise.

Carpe Diem.

Happy Anniversary (52)

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I woke up this morning and there on my Facebook feed
Was this beautiful expression of love on our anniversary

It was made by my friend Edie down south
God spoke to her, we never talk by mouth

She has this exquisite talent she is sharing
she posted this on the day of our pairing

Edie, you did not know
that fifty two years ago

Cheryl and I were wed. Thanks for your art.
This day is special, thanks for the great start.
August 29, 1970

It was a seriously hot day. We were dressed to the nines. We were skinny. Life was in front of us.

Happy anniversary to us!

Carpe Diem. (I do not know why I wrote 53) 🙂