memories

Memory Loss

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Lately i have been reading Gwendy’s Final Task by Richard Chizmar and Stephen King. I became tired of violent crime novels and this book claims to be the final volume of a trilogy. Perfect I thought. Stephen can be wordy although I think he is a good story teller. And Maine is apparently a mess, Castle Rock anyway.

Gwendy the main character is losing her memory and is very aware of it. She maybe dealing with beginning Alzheimer’s or something like it. It is disturbing to her. I wonder if it is realistic to think that folks like Gwendy or Cheryl or others dealing with a chronic illness that destroys one memory are aware of it happening. It is a scary thing to Gwendy in the novel. She talks of how names just disappear from her head and the struggle she has to get the thought back.

There is a lot more to the story but Gwendy is actively hiding her memory issues. Initially she forgets names and her neurologist and psychiatrist doctor has taught her a little memory association technique that helps her through most situations. And Stephen King has a device in his story that works even better. I wish there was such a device for Cheryl. I wish the device did not require the ending that Stephen has worked out for Gwendy.

More and more I hunt for memory tricks to help her. It may be too late for many of those to be useful. Getting out of the car I repeat, “One hand on the door and one hand on the chair and you are out of there.” I have little knowledge of whether that’s working but more and more she reaches for the car door inner handle and puts her left hand on the seat back to propel herself up to a standing position. She often does not need me to repeat it.

Maybe that is helpful. Repetition and repeated talking about what to do makes a new connection in her brain. I often repeat the ABC song in my head to find alphabetical order. The sing-song about the months never stuck with me. So, the connection does not always happen.

Memory loss is discouraging to the care partner. Memory loss is mostly unknown to the parkie that has it. It shows up constantly. — Who put these papers here? Why is someone messing with my papers? Those little girls are always playing with my papers. I better put my papers in my office and close the door. Substitute any valid noun for papers. She puts on two pairs of socks because she forgot to take one pair off before putting a clean pair on.

It (memory loss) destroys any planning skills. The holiday season is next week we better start making cookies. I don’t know why they keep moving the months around. When I see the doctor next week I want to talk about my medicines. (It is a December appointment.) Sometimes anger appears because people keep changing things around.

Fortunately not all parkies experience this memory thing.

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) 🙂

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.

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

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.

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.

EEEEke, Get Outta Here!

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House centipedes occasionally wander into the house. This morning one went to its demise after scouting for prey in our kitchen. If you read the link to family handyman at the beginning it tells you that you probably should not kill them. Cheryl did not read that article.

Watching that activity, I thought about it from the bug’s point of view…

bug – “doddy-oat doe” Humming to itself. This looks like a good place to hunt as it moves into lighted part of the kitchen floor.

Cheryl – “Eeeeke! Get outta here you!” Lot’s of thumps and bumps while she tries to get up.

bug – “Holy cow there must be some kinda earthquake going on.”, it thinks. It freezes to check its surroundings.

Paul – “What’s happening in there?”

Cheryl – “There’s one of those thousand leggers.” As I come into the kitchen she says, “There it is!”, pointing to the insect hiding under the base cabinet front. I grabbed the fly swatter hanging on the pantry door and handed it to her as Mr. Centipede scampered out of harm’s way under the refrigerator.

Paul – “Here use this it will work better.”

The centipede stayed under the fridge for a few minutes searching for prey and weighing options for escape. Soon the cry erupted, “There you are!” WHACK. WHACK WHACK.

bug – “Damn. Crazy woman. What is up with you? I’m outta here.” It retreated back under the fridge and Cheryl shoved the fly swatter under the front of the refrigerator in an effort to chase the bug out from underneath. It reappeared to the left when Cheryl was probing to the right. She whacked at it some more as it attempted to scurry away.

bug – ” Ow, ow ow. OUCH. That hurts. Why are y…” Centipedes are delicate creatures and tend to disintegrate with a direct hit. This one did just that.

Gone to centipede heaven as dust.

Cheryl – “Got it!”

There is a rule in our house. No bug of any type may live there. No benefit may ameliorate the absoluteness of none.

I laugh now. It is entertaining to watch. I used to worry because of Cheryl’s balance issues. I worried that she would fall down chasing a bug across the floor. And then I realized that often her Parkinson disappeared for a bit. The necessity to cause death to all bugs overrode any Parkinson. In fact she is pretty good at mashing ants with the tip of her cane or the tip of a walker leg. The only thing that needs improvement is her reaction time.

Bug whacking is also pretty good exercise. She will come right out of the chair to bush whack a bug.

Carpe Diem.

Donut Day

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It was going to be doughnut day and I forgot. Alas. Woe is me.

Going down this sometimes bumpy, sometimes smooth road of Parkinson, I hunt for ways to make memories. Happy memories. You have to see how Cheryl’s face lights up when there are doughnuts for breakfast. You will know then why getting up early to go find doughnuts is a special memory. Cheerios will not go nearly as far to creation of happiness.

Skeptics will report that doughnuts are not good food. Some will even report that doughnuts are bad for you. Others will discuss yogurt and oat bran and report their studied benefits to those I say malarkey, nonsense and bovine feces. Nothing, absolutely nothing compares to a lightly textured butter enhanced wheat dough gently lofted by yeast plants straining for full growth finished in deep oil at the proper temperature and upon proper cooling, coated with a just-right glaze of sugary vanilla. (I know you can taste it. That is because I am eating one while writing. Darn, sugar on the keyboard.)

I offer only condolences to those with celiac disease. Gluten free donuts are a sad replacement. I offer condolences to those who are lactose intolerant also for they are doomed to enjoy margarine and vegetable oil.

Nevertheless as we returned home from our dinner at a diner and a walk around the park last night, Cheryl expressed an interest in having doughnuts for breakfast. I agreed but at 8 PM those are hard to find and when you do there is little selection. I said I would get up early and go find some. Alas, this morning that thought had not remained with me overnight.

Cheryl got up a little after 8 with no help from me. I heard her stirring in the bathroom and went to be an annoying helicopter care partner. All was well. I asked her what she wanted for breakfast to which she replied, doughnuts! I was initially crestfallen as I had forgotten our discussion. I put on clothing and went to our local IGA to see what was still available in their Busken Bakery cabinet. Fortunately for me the selection still contained kettle danish which is a favorite of hers. I will eat any combination of sugar and wheat dough. No favorites for me, although, my grandson once brought me a maple iced long john which a strip of bacon on top. Yummy. (When you are in Chicago next time find some “fried dough” — fattening but exquisite.)

The day was saved. The crisis was averted. Dip-able things appeared next to my coffee. Perhaps I will make a new pot.

Carpe Diem.

Old Married Couple

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It occurs to me that old married couples have heard each other’s stories many times. Idle pleasantries between acquaintances and friends usually lead into a story about some past experience. It is harder to do with old married couples. They have heard the stories. Often they both participated. Aging and PD memory loss have changed our conversation about trips, children, childhood, food, children’s sports, many things.

I am a pretender often. She may forget who I am as she is talking. She may forget I was there; an hour ago, a week ago, a decade ago. I might forget I was there a decade ago. She wants to remind me of someone else from her childhood, someone I should know.

I work on my small talk with her because she will find a story from her childhood and it is calming to her to tell me the story.

As I think past all of that and how I can help and respond to Cheryl I still worry when she says to me, ” I’m ready to go home now.” She does this near bed time.

Lately she seems to merely mean that she is tired and wants to go to bed and rest.

Carpe Diem.