Parkinson’s

Sometimes In The Evening

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Late in the evening when I am able to sit quietly and think about where we are with this parkinson thing I start to realize how it is affecting me. I ponder and think about how it is affecting her. Self -doubt pursues me everywhere.

As Cheryl’s confusion and memory lost develop into her dementia, I wonder if she is aware of her disability. I wonder if she knows about what is going on around her. I wonder is if she is scared. I know it scares me. She has always been self reliant. She often resists help. She makes me feel intrusive and yet I know her mind is awash in confusion. (Do I actually know that? Is that a misconception?)

Yesterday we had lunch with our daughter and talked about their family’s planned trip to Florida. We talked about the logistics of getting six differing schedules aligned for a family vacation. I thought it might be nice to go to there with them. I held Cheryl’s hand and asked her if she would like to do that. She was reluctant but interested in visiting with other family. (If we went along would we be a burden to Anna’s family and their time off vacationing together?)

My daughter pointed out to me that I keep track of Cheryl’s health like a hawk. She asked if I was keeping track of my own health. I think I am. But when I drift into deep discernment, meditation, prayer and thought, I am unsure. I think back to times when Cheryl and I went off together somewhere sometimes for a week or so, sometimes with friends we met up with, sometimes for a weekend alone with just us to entertain each other. Once Cheryl planned a special surprise for my birthday, all the kids and grandkids showed up – it was a well kept secret. These are all wonderful memories and it makes me long for those times. I makes me attracted to the idea of vacationing.

I think Anna was trying to tell me that a vacation would be good. I agree with that thought and in this part of my life and our marriage it would be useful if I was able to get away from the day to day care for Cheryl. Maybe it is time to give that away and return to simply being a husband.

A vacation from caring seems attractive.

As I write this and think about that aspect it lifts my heart. Worry and anxiety are easier to bear if there is occasional relief. I think I need to work on that sort of relief.

It is late in the morning now and she is gently snoring in the bedroom. This is one of those days when the day just seems to be slipping away. I begin to worry that she may not sleep tonight. I wonder how a professional caregiver would respond. I talked to her earlier when I put her meds in the bathroom for later. As I sat on the edge of the bed and comforted her a bit she fell asleep, so, I got up and left her to rest some more.

I am not surprised that she is sleeping late. Although she did not disturb me overnight I think she slept fitfully. I slept my normal get up to go to the bathroom every 2-3 hours. Occasionally she was whispering a list of people out loud as she thought through the planning of a family reunion style gathering that our sister-in-law has taken over but Cheryl cannot let go of in her mind. No amount of “Tari is handling that” relieves her from thinking about logistics. I often hope that Tari will spontaneously call and talk about it but I recognize that she probably will not. (I sent her a text message and requested her to call Cheryl. I will wait and see if she does.)

I mentioned – return to simply being a husband. I big part of that idea is not doing Cheryl’s things for her.

Many things wander through my thoughts as I checked on Cheryl again and got cleaned up, brushed my teeth (now the coffee tastes funny) and put on clothes for the day. I can hear my mother’s voice as she told me years ago, “I do some of my best sleeping in the morning.” When Mom was still alive if I visited her before noon, she might be just barely awake. Once or twice I made her breakfast and sat with her for awhile. I start seeing that happen with my wife. (I suppose I do not want that for us. I want us to be young and vibrant or, at least, think we are.)

I know that she wants to go to church services tonight. It is just before Easter. Easter is a big deal for Cheryl. She has been talking about coloring eggs for several weeks. I have extra eggs in case I cannot get out of doing that. It is getting late, so, as a husband I will get her up and listen to the complaint while I do that.

She is up now at 11 AM. I made her favorite breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon with grape jelly toast. She told me that after she was done with breakfast she wanted to lie down again.

Carpe Diem.

So Much is Repetitive

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A few minutes ago she asked me, “Are you alright?” She is having a really slow day.

She did not sleep well. Stayed up “reading” until 12:30 – 12:45 AM. Jumped back out of bed at 3 AM after having soaked the bed in an incontinence episode that has not happened for quite awhile. After changing everything and everyone we got back to bed. I woke up at 7 AM or so. It is not an unfamiliar episode.

I got her up about 9:30 AM. We had planned to go out to lunch with a friend of hers but her friend is not feeling well and canceled.

By 10:30 AM Cheryl was no longer in a hurry to get dressed and moving. She took a shower. And the world slowed down.

I listened to a podcast called – “When Life Gives You Parkinson’s.” Now I want to find a chemical manufacturer and kick his ass. Or maybe a dry cleaner and do the same thing. Idiopathic my ass. Crap on a crutch. What are we doing to ourselves?

So, at 1 PM after I had gotten her a snack and her glasses and after she was telling me about some apparitional animal outside the back window and I was staring off into space with my thoughts about our future and my worry about getting more care for her she became suddenly lucid and asked, “Are you alright?” I replied, “yes, I am fine.”

That was a baldfaced lie. Pretty soon today I will take her to an ENT doctor to be sure that her hearing problems of late are not simply due to wax or some other problem.

No I am not okay. I worry more and more about how I can care for her. I have a call in to a social worker associated with her neurologist group.I need to talk about this to someone who might give me some guidance.

My heart is broken right now and I am tired. And just maybe I need a good night’s sleep. Little small steps are in the offing. It is scary.

Carpe Diem.

Making it Through

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About 6 or 7 o’clock in the evening is prime anxiety time for me. I start to carefully assess Cheryl and look for things for us to do together to use up the evening. I spend too much time obsessing about what might come. I could wait and see instead of obsess and fret.

Last evening after Cheryl’s rough day I started to think this way again. As I wrote the paragraph above I thought to myself – you know what? – que sera sera, dude! Foohhget about it! Let’s just see where this all goes.

Later we went to bed like normal. I read for awhile. She was still awake when I came to bed. I helped her roll over. Ultimately she fell asleep.

Huh?

We got through it.

Perhaps it is time for me to let God do his thing.

Carpe Diem.

Scrambled Eggs

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This was a strange morning so far.

Cheryl was interested (it seemed to me) in going to bed at the normal time about 10 PM. I helped her through all the normal changes and toileting. Afterward I sat up to read but could not wrap my head around the story I was reading. I came to bed at 11 PM.

After I laid down and got comfortable she started talking to someone. I thought at first she was talking to me but listening I realized she was having a conversation with whom – several people – she was seeing in her head. She has had these episodes in the past but not for some time. Last night and early morning her hallucinations were strong. At least three people were in the room – Nancy and a couple of smaller children and Zachary. They talked about church topics. They talked about playing. they talked about what was best to eat. They talked about books and stories. They talked about breakfast.

After an hour or so of this I got up. I must have gotten used to her murmurings and fallen asleep for awhile but I awakened at a little after 1 AM and could not return to blissful slumber. I got up and pulled the sofa-bed apart with the intention of sleeping in the living room for a couple hours but that did not work out as I heard her moving around shortly after I got up to switch rooms.

When I reentered the bed room she was perched on the edge of the bed trying to get up in her hop-hop mode. I helped her up and she needed to put her imaginary earrings on the dresser in our bedroom.

I suggested to her sleepy, dreamy, hallucinatory self that she sit on the toilet while we were up and she did that. I changed her overnight incontinence stuff and while I was doing that she saw imaginary wetness on the floor as well as several imaginary insects moving about. We captured the imaginary insects after getting off the toilet and searched for more. Afterward she announced that she wanted scrambled eggs and ham. I sadly reported that we were out of ham and I would have to go to the store the next day and fix that but I could do scrambled eggs and toast. She was okay with that modification.

I made her scrambled eggs at 2 AM.

After she ate we returned to bed. I did not hear the living room clock strike three but that may have been because I stopped its pendulum while I was laying on the sofa-bed earlier next to it counting the ticks and the tocks.

It is 10 AM and she is still sleeping and I am wondering how long to let her sleep. We plan to meet one of her friends for lunch today at 12:30 or so. And what should I offer her for breakfast. This day is starting out very hard for Cheryl and very slowly.

Carpe the breakfast Diem.

Just let go of it

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Time to let it go?

In a discussion last evening about bread knives with my daughter, I admired the bread knife that I bought her for some occasion in the past after discovering that she did not have a large knife for slicing the bread I had made for it. The knife that I have and use at home is a knife that has been around since my childhood. I do not really know the detailed story but Mom and Dad had this knife in their kitchens through life and they used it to slice breads and cakes.

As a child I always thought of it as “The Knife”. It is not the knife I used as a child of six years or so to slice open the back of my left index finger. The Knife was made by Federal Cutlery Co. N. Y. That is stamped into the side of the blade. The handle however looks to be my father’s handiwork. He made a couple pieces of wrought iron furniture when he was in Hughes high school. It would not surprise me if he had repaired this knife at Hughes and kept it for my Mom. Or found it somewhere in New York when they lived there shortly after the war. I was a toddler then. I do not know the story. I should have asked when Dad was still alive.

It does not cut as well it once did. Perhaps it never really cut that well but because Dad had repaired the handle and injected his love into it, it had never been let go. That is where my discussion with Anna went as I was admiring her knife and how smoothly it sliced the Irish Soda bread I had made. Perhaps it was time to let “The Knife” go?

Maybe if Dad was still alive he would tell me he did not really like how the handle do-over turned out but Mom really liked it. Dad was always trying to find the right gift for Mom. This was especially true on her birthday and Christmas. I went shopping with him a couple times. Looking back, he had a mechanical man’s sense of what would be the perfect gift but he loved her dearly.

The Knife will still be in the knife drawer but underneath the new bread knife I ordered identical to the one Anna has. The Knife and I have history together.

There are other things such as these that I have let go or am working on letting go. Some are physical, some are attitudes, some are worries.

Carpe Diem

Great Unknowns

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For the past couple days Cheryl’s watch has been missing. It is THE WATCH. As a routine each night we place the watch on what I call the little hat. It is actually a little ring holder that was given to her by Anna. She put her rings and her watch on it but a little more that a year ago I purchased for her a gold chain to wear her rings as a necklace. She had lost enough weight in her hands that her rings would fall off in the car or a chair or the restaurant. This last was the scariest.

But I have digressed. –THE WATCH – has been missing since at least Wednesday. Kathy came to visit on Wednesday. I first noticed that her watch was missing in action when I made dinner and Cheryl and I sat down to eat it. She is right handed so she wears her watch on her left wrist. I noticed it was not on her wrist but I did not say anything because sometimes she does not wear it. Later when we went to bed I noticed that it was not on the little hat. For a couple days I would surreptitiously search for THE WATCH.

About noon today as she was preparing to take a shower and I was searching, I found her watch. She often puts rubber bands on collections of random items in her office. Her watch was on a book shelf in her office near some items that had been banded together. My heart leaped for joy. (I have not been following my own rule of looking around her office to see where things might be.)

Lately, however, I have become anxious about Cheryl’s mental health. The watch story is not about that, it seems to me to be slowly worsening as time goes on. And I think that I am getting used to it. (That idea makes me anxious and adds a fear of not recognizing changes immediately.) My daily notes about bedtimes, falls and other behavior are no longer daily. I note falls and other anomalies. Bedtimes are between 9:30 and 10:30 typically. Her impostor delusion (a noted behavior) seems to appear if she is up later than 11 PM and disappears into her office to “work on stuff.” Last night was one of those nights. I drove her around a four mile loop in the rain as she anxiously gripped her purse waiting to get home.

She was okay with me helping to change her clothes and get into bed when we got back. She wished me farewell and safe driving home. I left the bed room and open and closed a few doors as though I was leaving. I took off my jeans and sweatshirt that I had put on over my pajamas to make the drive. I turned off the lights and gently eased into our bedroom as her husband coming to bed. It worked. I worry that one time it will not work. So far my fear is unfounded but I still worry because I do not have another plan except for sleeping in the living area on the pull out sofa-bed.

At one time in the past I asked her if she remembered any of that. I learned that a reminder in the morning of odd behavior is unwarranted and perhaps even stupid. Introspection of failed ideas is useful.

I still wonder (and worry) about her failing memory and confusion and general mental heath. And of course how to pay for it all should she need extra care that I am unable to give her. Maybe I need some counseling? Or something to ease my mind? Engineers spend too much time what-iffing the situation.

On the morning news the U.S. Congress spent much of the taxpayer’s dollars annoying the CEO of TikTok. That social media platform gets more time per average viewer that Facebook and Twitter. Alas when will we discover the unimportance of Facebook and other social media? … except as another form of 1960’s TV.

Carpe Diem.

Like a Bunch of Random Boulders

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What Rose Forgot is a novel by Nevada Barr. Rose, the main character, is struggling with mental illness and memory loss brought on by some unseemly characters in her family. Her granddaughter helps her through the dilemma that she finds herself in. But one line early in the novel stuck out – memories fell into her head like random boulders from a bucket high up all jumbled with no relationship to each other.

Cheryl’s conversation, especially in the evening, is much like that. Kathy came to visit her today and I noticed that her conversation and memories are like that during the day also. Kathy ignored any incongruities if she knew they where there. Had I been sitting near Cheryl I would have had to correct her memory of people and events. It is really, really difficult for me to not jump in to the conversation to fix things.

But I am getting better at it.

I am not certain that I got the quote right but the image is there. Random chunks of memory come into Cheryl’s head. It makes me sad. Sometimes she realizes that this is happening.

Tonight when we came back from getting ice cream at our favorite ice cream store, she went off looking for her Mom in our condo. I did not stop her or correct her impression. And, to her, perhaps, Elaine was there.

I am in pursuit of her calmness of mind. And I admit it makes me anxious.

Carpe Diem

Reflections

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Sunday for me is a day of reflection.

As I loaded the dishwasher I thought of David our middle child. He and Melissa are not feeling well.

I thought about Anna as I started to write this. Perhaps I will call her later.

I sent a text to Scott and Mavis and asked about a do-over of our unsatisfactory Cracker Barrel experience. We were compensated by the manager with 4 free meals. Scott invited us for dinner instead. I volunteered dessert. It will be Cheryl’s favorite – pound cake. I cleverly ordered two box mixes when I ordered online from the Kroger near us. I rarely order from Kroger but I did the other day for pick up on Saturday.

Cheryl was worried about organizing an Easter party last night. She thinks Easter is tomorrow or next week. No matter how much I reassure her that it is not for a couple weeks yet she is worried about candy and small children and hard boiling eggs. I convinced her to sleep a little and we could do that in the morning. (I had hoped she would forget her anxiety.)

This morning as she was putting on clothes she made reference to those thoughts. I texted her sister Nancy since Nancy was part of Cheryl’s thoughts. Nancy came to visit for awhile. They talked for an hour or so.

Often on the weekend this road of Parkinson is disturbing for me. The dementia aspect of Cheryl’s Parkinson is disturbing for me. I wonder if there is a class or something I can do to feel more comfortable with helping her.

More reflection is needed.

Carpe Diem.

Anxious

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What makes you most anxious?

This writing prompt magically appeared from Word Press. What makes me the most anxious is the fact that some new symptom or behavior will appear with Cheryl’s Parkinson and I will not be able to help her. Coupled with that fear is the anxiety that little techniques that I have developed so far will quit working. And lastly I will have to give in to the fact that I can no longer care for her myself.

Dog, Cup, Rainbow

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Like many old retired folks we have a Medicare advantage plan. When I investigated these a few years age I came to the conclusion that the United Healthcare plans offered through AARP seemed to be appropriate for our needs. There have been several adjustments and realignments over the past several years and I am not in any way an insurance expert but so far the system has worked for us. United Healthcare has a feature that sends a nurse practitioner once a year to visit to check their clients if they want to participate. Participation is voluntary. Cynical me wonders what benefit the insurance company receives from visiting it clients but practical me says there is some benefit otherwise they would have no reason to pay a skilled NP to drive around the countryside to visit clients. There is no altruism in corporate america. I agreed to a visit by Whitney on Thursday of this week.

UHC Housecalls (Whitney) came to visit that day. We went through all the medications that Cheryl takes for Parkinson and my few meds for high cholesterol and too much eyeball pressure. There is a modified MOCA test – draw a clock, remember three words while drawing the clock. The normal blood pressure, heart rate and lung listening happens as in any wellness visit. There is also a clip on gadget and an app that runs on Whitney’s laptop that produces circulation information. Good news we are both alive! And one of us could remember the three words.

In addition to Whitney coming to visit, so did Nancy, a friend of Cheryl’s from church. In fact Cheryl has had a different someone come to visit every day this week. It has been busy and that tires her out.

Cheryl was showing signs of exhaustion on Wednesday. In the evening about 11:30 pm she needed to go home. I was heartbroken that night and tired myself from the time change. The impostor (Capgras) delusion seems to appear about once every two weeks. I put her in the car and drove her around the block. I am usually terrified that this time it will not work. This night it did (still).

Today it was hard but busy. Writing this on Thursday, I wrote that I forgot her pills at 1 pm.  Damn. That will mess up her mobility and her mind. Later on Thursday I noted — it is almost 8 PM and I think she is back to her normal for now.

Cheryl could not complete the modified MOCA test on Thursday. Today, Friday, she went to lunch with her friend Barb. The week of visits, no matter how well intentioned, is over.

Tonight we went out to get dinner at one of our favorite little restaurants. St. Patrick’s Day pub crawls where in full swing on Friday night. [Éirinn go Brách] The food was good and the crowd was raucous and loud. St. Pat showed up on the second day of March madness.

Carpe Erin Diem.