My search for grace and meaning after a former care partnering life with a wife who suffered from Parkinson's disease and dementia giving her a confused and disorienting world.
Recently a longtime high school friend came to town to experience a grandchild’s graduation from high school. Cheryl and I met Paul and Kathy for lunch. It was a great visit with no particular direction to the lunchtime conversation. Just a chance to catch up.
At the end Cheryl needed the restroom. And for awhile we talked about Cheryl, her disease and where we were in life. Paul asked how I was doing. He was sincere and so was I when I replied that I was okay.
They are very good friends. They both listen. They do not offer unsolicited advice.
Listening is the most important quality in a friend.
Last evening as we drove to our granddaughter’s high school graduation it became apparent to me that although Cheryl knew who I was she did not really know who I am. She started talking about events in the past that we had done or children and grandchildren, sometimes mixing those together. Her discussion might start out as Paul and I did this or Paul and I did that or Paul told me etc. It makes one wonder about the complexity of the human mind.
In one of these conversations, an incredibly lucid one, she said to me that she thought her Parkinson disease was getting worse. (AHA) She went on to say that her memory was very bad at times. I just took a deep breath and let her continue. She explained that she was having a harder and harder time remembering names and relationships (she said “who they belong to”) and that thought bothered her. Throughout the rest of the evening at the graduation ceremony, pictures in the courtyard outside the high school and on the way home, this failure to remember names and relationships was forefront on her mind.
This information is very important to Cheryl. Embarrassment or shyness keeps her from merely asking, “who are you?” I told her that she can always ask me who the other people are and I would tell if I knew. I am not shy. I merely say, I’m sorry I’ve lost your name in my head.
Most times these drive along conversations fall into the category of prattle and I can respond with, ugh-huh or yes that is probably true or I don’t know about that but, yesterday evening it was more serious than that. Last night it affected her sleep as she began to worry about how everyone fits together. She could not find those relationships in her head to her satisfaction. She spent the three hours from eleven PM to two AM speaking to herself in a low voice and fidgeting with her hands. Fidgeting often accompanies her discussions with herself as well as others.
There was a lot of hugging and reassurance that I would always help. She on the other hand is aware of her memories dissipating into the ether and it scares her.
Indeed, her disease is getting worse.
Living in the present is all that is left when one cannot plan ahead nor remember past experiences. Disappointment was rampant in our drive along yesterday. Regan’s graduation ceremony, however, was well orchestrated. She is on to the next thing. (Smartphones take really crappy long photos but here is some from the ceremony.)
Today as I encouraged Cheryl to wake up and get out of bed it occurs to me that the changes are very slow. This morning is very different. It is hard to recover from a night of little or no sleep.
Yesterday she was awake very early simply because she had not slept overnight. I was not awake overnight to observe her but I get up two or three times to use the toilet. I long for the days when my bladder could contain my overnight urine output until morning but alas those days are gone. (I have digressed.) Each time I made this trip she was awake and talking to me. As I attempted to fall asleep, she squirmed as she attempted sleep. Each time I woke up she was in a different position. It suffices to say she slept little overnight.
Yesterday she was delusional and hallucinal and those experiences went to talking to her mother, my mother, seeing our two sons around, seeing her deceased sister and our smallest grandchild, Zachary.
Yesterday evening was my regularly scheduled meeting with friends. We formed a stock club many years ago and we enjoy a few beers and talk about various get-rich-quick schemes as well as attempting to discover the next Walmart or Amazon. It is a satisfying evening for me and our son Scott comes over to hang with Mom for a couple hours.
We had a gift for our newest high school graduate so I enticed our son David to stop by and pick it up. As I was texting David and working out the details Cheryl wondered aloud if Scott was bringing Zachary with him. I texted Scott with that request.
Our daughter-in-law brought Zachary over after he had been fed at home. Scott came at the usual time to hang for awhile. And David came by for a few minutes to pick up the gift and chat with Cheryl for a few minutes. I left for my meeting.
She saw them all in reality instead of inside her head.
Afterward she went to bed and although she was awake when I returned from turning off the lights and reading for a bit she fell asleep shortly thereafter.
Today she really had a hard time getting started. I rolled her, she has a new transfer chair, to breakfast after getting her on and back off of the toilet. She ate scrammed eggs, toast, bacon and some orange juice. She has started reading the Wall Street Journal to which I subscribe. (Getting rich quick is still strong in me.) She likes the editorial pages. I rolled her back to the bedroom afterward and now I hear her moving around selecting her clothes for today.
Yesterday I looked at my notebook and realized I had written little in my journal for several days. I pondered the fact that things seem to smooth out for a bit. Usually it is a long enough bit that one can be lulled into the idea that things are changing. Things are changing for the better.
And then,
Stuff that lost your attention falls in the dumpster.
Last night after Cheryl’s previous night of reasonably good sleep stayed awake all night.
Today will be a long one. She will be tired all day. So will I.
Today is Cheryl’s birthday. She is not sure how old she is and that is a good thing in many aspects. When I remind her, her answer is, “Really?”
Tonight we will go to dinner to celebrate. It was a spontaneous decision on my part. Some of her family will come too. With parkie’s many decisions are spontaneous. One has to determine how the day is going.
Her sister Nancy sent her some spontaneous flowers. Our niece, Natalie, brought them with her when she came to clean our condo today.
Spontaneity is the spice of life and living in the moment is something we all need to do more often.
Cheryl was moving slowly this morning but she said yes when I asked if she wanted to go to exercise class. I asked her if she wanted her blue shoes. She said, no, I want the pink shoes.
An old do-wop song jumped into my head.
It is amazing the crap flying around in your brain. I wonder how that works.
In Cheryl’s case it does not work as well as it once did. Her memories are jumbled up. She remembers that our granddaughter Laurencia is about to be graduated from The Ohio State University but mixes that memory with her mother’s teaching career. I used to correct the story but I no longer do.
Our granddaughter Regan is finishing high school and will move on to attend Ohio University at the end of this month. That idea is jumbled up with our grandson Max who graduated last year and is going to Miami University. When Cheryl tells the story we have three graduates. One of whom has been teaching for a couple years.
She wore her pink shoes with gray shoelaces, a flowered shirt and man oh man…
Cheryl and I gathered last night at a place on a little river nearby with most of her brothers and sisters to celebrate nothing in particular. They just wanted to be together for a bit and share dinner.
The conversation swirled around Cheryl and a small child in the next room was testing her lungs on the building acoustical characteristics by screaming. She was probably about three years old and comfortable in her own skin. No one was scolding her.
Tari had her bluetooth cicada stuck in her ear in case there was an emergency and drank a very white pina colada. (I always saw them as yellow sometimes pink if they had a maraschino cherry garnish.) I put my cheap cellphone on the table in anticipation of Cheryl’s 7PM medication but forgot to check if the alarm was set. Nancy has gotten Gene to drink amaretto sours which is the only thing she will drink other than water. Gene usually drinks only water. Cheryl had a Pepsi because they did not have Coca Cola. Ken ordered a Captain and Sprite which I suppose is another Pepsi product. Jill drank water no ice. I had a dark colored Budweiser tasting beer (beir) on tap brewed locally by some mystery brewer specially for this restaurant. It was okay bier.
The food was excellent. The Deutsche themed restaurant offered schnitzel which I have not had for some time. Kartopfelpfannkuchen came with it. I ordered that. It was perfect. Cheryl ordered chicken tenders with the signature bourbon barbecue sauce, broccoli and apple sauce. She ate most of it which meant she both liked it and she was hungry. Barbecue chicken of some sort was the majority dish for the rest of the table. Others had a rib-eye steak and chicken cordon bleu. Those decisions made the conversation continued loudly. Cheryl had her parkie voice on which is very quiet.
The room was decorated with models of tanks and other weapons of war. Above the two marines in the front window there hung a bazooka the nemesis of tank warfare. It did not appear loaded. The current Abrams (M1) tank did not have a model present as did not the Bradley fighting vehicle. I think there was a Patton on display.
This is the sort of gathering that Cheryl’s mother Elaine would have enjoyed and as we were driving away it became apparent that Elaine had been there. She began to worry that her mom would not get home. That was our job most of the time when her mom was still alive. I assured her that her mom was where she lived now and would not need a ride. Cheryl reminded herself that her mom had passed onto another plane.
When we got home we watched TV for a bit and as it got closer to bedtime and she was more tired, she was also more confused. We talked some more about Elaine and as she remembered that her mom was in heaven, she asked, “Was there a funeral?” I replied, yes. Do you not remember? No, I do not she told me. So I started down the road of jogging her memory. Nancy got up and read a wonderful eulogy about your mom. Do you remember? Oh yes I remember that now. She talked about Bob and Mom. (Nancy did not but did a very respectable job of eulogizing her mom.) It is hard to keep calm and composed when your parkie wife wanders off into the memorial weeds. I merely acknowledged that and reminded her that we had a little luncheon in St. Clement’s lunch area. She remembered that pretty well.
She calmed down and called our son Scott with the news that we were home downstairs of grandma. After she finished her call with Scott she asked, “Is grandma not upstairs?” Her thoughts will bounce around for awhile after a big group gathering. She eventually remembered that her grandmother had passed away but became anxious for a bit that she could not remember any of it. Her grandmother’s funeral was early in our married years. I could not help her remember but we did settle on her calling her cousin Barb to find out what happened to grandma Moeller. (Today as I write this I notice that any and all of that anxiety is gone.)
Trying to keep up with conversation with her siblings is exhausting for her. They are catching up and joking around. This activity takes her back to her childhood and young adulthood. The small child screaming at random intervals seemed to add a nuance of grandchild. Her mom was there too. She was in the house on Phillips Avenue and we went home downstairs to where Aunt Jean lived. These were confusing thought patterns.
And eventually we both went to sleep.
Today after I took her to exercise class, Cheryl ate the leftovers that she brought home for lunch . She suggested that we go back there for dinner or lunch again. We will. They have food that Cheryl likes. Suggesting that we go back is a big endorsement from Cheryl.
I might get a different bier though.
Sadly this room was decorated with weapons of war or krieg as the Germans would say. All in all a good family visit.
Jan? Jan? (me – what?) Do the doctors know if this Cesarean is scheduled or not? (me- I don’t know. I’m sure they will do what’s necessary. Try to get some sleep.) Okay. Wake me when it’s done.
Early morning as well as late evening conversations can be odd sometimes. This one from last night as she was falling asleep stuck with me.
Cheryl really enjoys these classes when I can get her moving quickly enough to get there. Joelle leads a cardio (seated) that involves a lot of dance moves (shoop, shoop) and alternately boxing moves in time to the music.
Unfortunately I had the sound off when I made this video the other day. The rest of the staff joined in as background dancers.
One of our regular social gatherings is Pizza Tuesday. (Yes, I know it is supposed to be taco Tuesday.) Most times it is just a few of us, maybe 3 or 4. Occasionally Cheryl’s brothers and sister show up. Last evening in a moment of serendipity her cousin and many of his family showed up to celebrate their father’s birthday. Cheryl got a hug from her cousin that she really has not talked to for years.
Bob’s second wife died about a year ago and I took her to the funeral mass. We did not stay for the gathering after because Cheryl was not doing well that day.
Cheryl did not talk much to Bob. For one thing he was there to celebrate with his family in the big front room. For another although he may know of Cheryl’s on going battle with parkinson and dementia, he may not know how long it takes for her to get a thought out. Sometimes her thought is gone before she can vocalize it. I have been watching this for years. At home I merely wait.
Others have a hard time waiting so they want to guess what she is trying to say. Forming thoughts and then assembling complete sentences, keeping track of any names that need insertion is a hard task for Cheryl these days. I only help when I am very sure of who or what she is talking about and even then I can be wrong. Parkies can change topics in a heartbeat.
Last evening, however, was special and when we got home she wanted to do two things. Get Bob’s telephone number so she could call him and talk. And sit outside for awhile and watch the clouds go by to expose the moon and the planets. Venus is very bright and the moon is several days past its crescent phase. Watching the night sky lately seems peaceful for her.
I asked her siblings for Bob’s phone number. She now has his phone number for when she wants to call him.
As we left the restaurant her brother, as he often does, said to me thank you for taking care of my sister. My inner thought to him is I love her dearly and we made a vow to each other fifty years ago. What I say to him is “you’re welcome” and that bothers me sometimes. Some day I will pour my heart out to him. He is a good and kind man.
Adjunct_Wizard 