It’s Near Time for Good-byes

I started this a couple days ago while sitting in the airport and elsewhere. I mulled over many thoughts that I had about family and siblings and care giving and end of life. A great visit with my sister and only sibling alive comes to a close.

Joyce asked me if I was shifting back into caregiver mode. I am. I also think that I never left that mode or mood. I was far away but the kids were close by for Cheryl. David took it upon himself to visit his mother every day. I was able to relax a bit.

In the collection of photos below in the picture immediately above the lighthouse there is a little white speck to the left of center in an otherwise empty ocean. That is a whale spout.

When I return we ( our family) will be planning, thinking carefully about future care for Cheryl. This was a test for us all. There are lots of imponderables. What is best for Cheryl? How will we finance it? How will we respond to her needs?

Carpe Diem.

I Wish I Could See Through Her Eyes

Cheryl sees many shapes and things and people that I cannot. I wish I could see through her eyes just once in awhile. I might have a greater understanding and appreciation of what she is going through.

Yesterday as I left sitting at the table with another gentleman waiting for dinner, I suddenly realized that in many ways she is gone. It saddened me deeply and I cried a bit. She is staying at a memory care facility while I go to visit my sister across the country.

I am hoping for a great visit. We have not been together for two years.

Sleeping last night was very hard as I expected it to be. I thought about Cheryl and hoped she would not be too disoriented or afraid. She is more of both lately. Several times over the last couple of months she made reference to being gone. The first time I sat with her and listened. She was convinced she would not be available to have her hair cut in August. She is still here physically but her words are a mystery often. It is frustrating to her that she cannot find the names of her family and friends. It is frustrating to me that I cannot guess the correct words and help.

I hope she knows who I am when I get back. I wonder who will I be when I get back. But if not I will need to figure out a greater amount of care for her. A meditation for another day.

Carpe Diem.

Free Falling

The Traveling Wilburys or some other group recorded song many years ago with this title. There are many days when I feel just like this. We are free falling through life with Parkinson.

There are days when I wish I could see the world through her eyes. There are days when I wish I could sense the world through her jumbled senses. There are days when I wish I could understand why it was important to stack the Kleenex just so.

It is exhausting.

This morning as I think about Cheryl’s disease and how it is affecting her and how it has changed our life my emotions about it all are jumbled up in my thoughts.

Love is carrying us through it all but a few more scientific facts would be useful.

Some evenings go smoothly and she is calm when she goes to bed at night. She sleeps. I sleep. Those facts may have little to do with outcomes of the next day. Last night I lowered my expectations of her and suffered along. Eventually about 1 AM sleep happened.

Today we have donuts for breakfast.

Carpe – this – Diem. The next day may not be.

A Day that will Live in Infamy

Looking back from the afternoon towards the morning I have to laugh a little.

Cheryl’s doctor is still adjusting her meds. Trying to sort out sleep issues, depression issues, hallucination issues, movement issues and other Parkinson dilemmas takes time. In the meantime sleep is illusive. Last night I got the message – quit taking the quetiapine for sleep. So I did not give her the quetiapine.

This morning I got the message, the doctor has communicated with the neuropharmacist and reviewed all the other stuff she is taking. Start giving her the quetiapine 75 mg for 5 days and then 100 mg from then on. The nurse practitioner will check back in two weeks to see how it all turned out.

That is counter intuitive. 75 mg is twice the original amount of quetiapine that she was taking. After I finished reading all that I went to check on Cheryl. She was awake as she had slept poorly but quiet enough that I slept like a stone or at least a stone with a two-teaspoon bladder capacity. Overnight I sensed that Cheryl was awake but she was not talking gibberish which happens sometimes when she dreams out loud. I fell asleep easily after getting up a couple times. (God, I hate old age.)

We decided on waffles and fruit for breakfast. She ate her pears and part of a waffle and disintegrated into a coughing nausea fit which caused her to quit eating anything else for awhile. As that died down a bit, my cousin-in-law called with a long explanation about why she was unable to participate in Pizza Tuesday tonight.

Linda told me a story about her upstairs neighbor’s incompetency, water leakage and associated repairs. I started to think my life was not so bad at least my building wasn’t falling down around me.

Cheryl decided that she wanted to lay back down for awhile. I helped her back to the bed room and the bed. I then returned to the kitchen to finish assembling a new pot of coffee and wait for the next activity. I turned on the kitchen tap and a tiny trickle came out.

When I had the kitchen remodeled a few years ago I opted for the super faucet that I only need to touch somewhere to make it come on. It was a $300 option but it was extremely handy over the years. It is a battery powered system and the problem that presented itself told me the batteries needed to be replaced. Alas! I found new batteries and did that. Still no water! I called the plumber. Micky listened and told me that they have had a couple failures but she was sure mine was still under warranty and would check to see how long to get parts and call me back.

I took my coffee pot to the sink in the utility room for water. The sink in the utility room was running very slowly. WTF? Did we have a water main break? I called the Greater Cincinnati Water Works generic hold number and the robot answer-er asked if I wanted to discuss my bill. No! I replied. and eventually was connected to queue manned by a single human. This is similar to going to the post office to buy stamps at the wrong time of day. While on hold i decided to go look for my Amazon package that the driver had beeped my door buzzer about earlier. The package was leaning on my front door which led me to look into the front lobby of our condo building. The front door was propped open by a plumber who was working on the new neighbor’s condo up stairs. I tapped on her door and grumped long and loud about turning off the water to the building without warning anyone. — Turn about is fair play; she grumped loud and long about someone stealing her ladder when she was moving in which did not happen. The painters thought it was theirs and realized their mistake and put it back in the incorrect spot.

Someone had mismarked the main water supply which comes into the building as the cutoff for the second floor condo not realizing what they were doing. Our new neighbor’s water shutoff valve was hiding behind the water heater. The plumber figured out where it was after we complained about the water being off. He got bad information from a resident that was not here. Who knew?

I later apologized to my neighbor about raising much ado about nothing.

In the meantime Cheryl’s head is off in lalaland.

Sleep would be a good thing for her.

It is Pizza Tuesday.

Carpe Diem.

A Prayer for Self Compassion when Care Giving

I was reading the St. Anthony Messenger today which is something I rarely do. This little prayer at the end of an article about self-compassion struck me as apt. It also reminded me of Mom and something thing she told toward the end of her life. She said, “I think I need a mother.”

What she meant was she was tired and needed to have someone else be in charge. We all need to give ourselves a break.

At the end of her life I took control of Mom’s finances and I did not always do what she wanted me to do. Sometimes I thought her ideas where crazy (not the right word) and told her so and later I would feel guilty about it. I needed her to be the mother.

Sometimes I think about Mom when I am helping Cheryl. In many ways Cheryl is slowly, ever so slowly wasting away like Mom did near the end of her life. Sometimes it makes me angry, sometimes sad. I am always trying for better and more compassion. Some days it is just plain hard.

Maybe I need to give myself a break.

Carpe Diem.

Life is Relentless

There are so many things that cannot be ignored.

  • laundry
  • eating
  • cleaning
  • care giving
  • personal hygiene
  • taxes
  • utility bills
  • car repairs
  • joy and goodwill of others
  • entertainment
  • peaceful, restful sleep
  • health and healthcare
  • good coffee
  • visits with friends
  • learning to cook
  • how to tighten screws
  • learning new things every day
  • building maintenance and painting
  • love

There are many things that can be ignored.

  • political opinion
  • opinions of others about anything
  • judgmental people
  • messy desks
  • Facebook, X and other social media
  • Advertising and ads for drugs
  • Hurricanes in Ohio

Carpe Diem.

I Wish

I had a better memory of Cheryl’s funny little conversations that she and I have when we go out to eat or I drive her somewhere to be out of the house for a bit.

Over time – it took some time – I have come to understand the value of “going with it.” If Cheryl wants to call the painters tomorrow and get them going on painting our condo which is something she talks about occasionally, I merely respond with encouragement. Yes we should do that first thing tomorrow. I wish she did not have these odd thoughts but they are there. Those thoughts will be brand new tomorrow. Fresh to her. She will not ask why I did not call the painters, yet. She might not remember wanting to get the place repainted until next week. So I just go with it.

Her conversation on our way to somewhere is comical. It can be all over the place. It can be hard for me to keep up. She will tell me about cloud formations and what she sees in them. The next sentence might be let’s invite Mom for dinner tomorrow and maybe Jan will come. I talked to Jan this morning, she is moving to Florida. Alas both her mother and her sister Janice have passed from this life.

Earlier today I came back from riding my bike and she asked me if I had a good visit with Nancy. These questions which indicate confusion of previous conversations and where I disappeared to I will answer directly. I do not “go with it”. She accepts that.

I wish for a lot of things. As we take a walk today in great September weather in Ohio I wish she had more stamina. For the first time ever since I saw her sit and rest on her walker. She is doing the feet thing she does with her transfer chair. The walker is not as easy to control.

As she looks at her electronic picture frame full of photos I gleaned from Facebook and other sources she is anxious to make copies of the various photographs and give them to the people in the photographs. Cheryl does not understand where the pictures came from. I wish that she understood that, then maybe she would not be worried that others in her family may not have the photos.

I wish she was not confused but she is. When the medical student doing clinical work with Cheryl’s neuropsychologist yesterday asked her what month it is, she answered, May. This new doctor that Cheryl sees has a palliative care clinic. She wants to help Cheryl live her best life with her disease. I hope she is able to help Cheryl.

To Cheryl Christmas is next week. Maybe it will be.

Carpe Diem.

Hope-aholic

Interesting concept.

Watching the early morning newsy shows yesterday a guest mentioned this concept. The word stuck with me because I think all care partners are just that – HOPE-aholics.

Hopeful the incontinence will be less or gone.

Hopeful the memories will not completely fade.

Hopeful that she will be less anxious in the evening.

Hopeful that she will think she is home at night.

Hopeful she will sleep peacefully overnight.

Hopeful she will walk better with her left side.

Hopeful she will do her speech exercises.

Hopeful she will remember who I am during the day and into the night.

Hopeful she will not be afraid of what is to come.

Hopeful, always hopeful, she will be fine with staying in a respite situation while I travel to visit my sister.

Hopeful that I will not be anxious while away.

Hopeful that she will eat more.

Hopeful that she will not lose more weight.

Hopeful that visitors will make her days busy while I visit my sister.

Carpe hopeful Diem.

Friday – A Weird One

It started like a normal morning I got up at 7:30 or so and left Cheryl sleeping soundly in bed. I put the last of yesterday’s coffee in a mug and told the microwave one minute. I woke up the Wordle on my tablet and went out to get the paper. Someone, perhaps our new neighbor brought them inside the front door. I picked up Jeanne’s paper and her mail. She is 98 and does not go out much or downstairs much. I carried her stuff up to the bag she hangs on her door for that purpose. I noted that she had not retrieved yesterday’s paper from her bag. (Maybe I will check on her later.)

I watched the news on hurry up speed up as I had prerecorded it when it came on at 7 AM. There is still a lot of things going on that I have no control over. But at our little group of condos, the decks are fixed, the roofs are on and the trim is newly painted. The landscape folks want me to accept the quote for scraping snow and putting out ice melter. Winter is coming.

I started thinking about Cheryl, winter, gloomy weather, sundown syndrome and care partner stuff. About 9:30 AM I went to see if she was awake and ready for breakfast.

I found her in that in between sleep and wakefulness that we all experience in the morning. Usually my right hip tells me (You are old buddy boy. Move your ass.) to get up and move around. Cheryl and I exchange small talk and teasing for a bit.

“Do you want a kiss on your ear?”, I say.

“No”, she replies.

“What about on this cheek?”

“Okay.”

“Scrambled eggs for breakfast?”

“Sure.”

“Toast with grape jelly?”

“Yes.”

“Want any bacon?”

“Not today.”

“I am going to get your rollie chair. I will be back.”

She is more comfortable these days with me scooting her out of bed and into a transfer chair. We go into the bathroom for a trip to the toilet, pills and then into the kitchen for breakfast.

On this day when I sat her on the toilet she began to shake, sweat and cry a little. “My arms really hurt.”, she said. She initially complained about the toilet seat being cold. I ignored that because she often makes that complaint. Her hands and arms were shaking violently and I held the glass and straw for her to take the meds that I placed in her mouth one by one. We have done this before but not with the shaking action.

I had been gently rubbing her left arm as I helped her take her pills and she asked me to stop. She told me her arms were hurting. I got her a nsaid pain reliever that had been prescribed by her doctor for occasional pain occurrences.

It is a little chilly in Ohio this morning and although our thermostat reads 75 F in the bathroom it seems even to me a little chilly. In the middle of moving her from the toilet to the transfer chair, I got her heavy fluffy ugly pink bathrobe on her. I combed her hair and rolled her to the kitchen.

Apple juice, scrambled eggs and jelly toast later, the shaking and sweating were gone. Her arms did not hurt anymore. She still reports a little pins and needles tingling in her hands and fingers. The meds seem to be working but this whole episode was new. It began after I had gotten her out of bed with no complaint and onto the toilet, also with no complaint.

A cold toilet seat seemed to start everything. And that is very weird. Maybe I need a couple of these snazzy covers.

Carpe Diem.