Parkinson’s Help

I had a long conversation with a member of our Parkinson’s support group today. She called mostly to talk about her husband who has Parkinson’s disease (PD). And the struggles she was having as a caregiver with Parkinson’s disease care management. We talked for a long, long time. Maybe half hour, 45 minutes she was on the phone. She was pretty forthcoming, with lots of things that she was dealing within her life, I was surprised by the call and I don’t know why but I am glad she reached out and I was able to give her an ear. Afterward it made me feel good. It made me feel sad for her.

It made me think…

Think a lot about Cheryl and how I dealt with helping her deal with her disease. She had a lot of the same issues Bev was talking about. Her stories were remarkably similar to my memories of that time in our life.
Bev is dealing with it (Parkinson’s in her husband) right now. With her husband her description is very, very similar to where Cheryl was maybe 2 years or so before the end of her life. The parallels are really striking. Bev was telling me that they moved into the condo that they are now living in about 5 years ago. (Same for us.) Mostly because it was getting harder and harder for her husband. He always, you know, mowed the lawn. And he did the maintenance kind of activities that you have with the house.

She went on and on to tell me lots of stories about things and I think I’ll have to think about them for a while. But the but the whole story line is so remarkably similar and so sad and well, maybe not sad, but but frustrating, you know, the disease just kind of consumes your whole relationship with with your spouse, they’ve been married a long time too.

They’ve been married about 35 years. They were together 3 or 4 years before that. Cheryl and I were married 53 years and we had been together for 4 years before that, it’s just incredible how similar the stories are.

Anyway, I needed to take time away from what I was doing here in my class management at the Mason campus of Sinclair College. I had to go have lunch somewhere where I could sit quietly and think about things and grade papers and take my mind off of that phone conversation and the memories it conjured. That was such a debilitating part of my life and Cheryl’s. It was so all-consuming. I think that’s what gets missed when people talk about care. Giving it is so all-consuming, slow moving, frustrating and then people will still say, “Well you’re blessed to have her or your blessed to have him. There’s no fucking blessed going on in that whole Parkinson’s/dementia thing.

Just.

Not.

Happening.

Bev did tell me one other useful thing. Her family doctor told her that she needs to go outside and take a walk everyday. No phones, no music, no nothing, you need to go out and listen to the birds, enjoy the sunshine. If there is no sunshine, enjoy the rain, if there is rain take an umbrella, but for 30 minutes a day, you got to just walk away from everything, get rid of the stress, let it go. That is absolutely the best advice I’ve ever heard anybody say to anybody else about this horrible disease of Parkinson’s. It truly is a horrible disease. I remarked to her that it was the best piece of advice I had ever heard. (I got away to ride my bike whenever I could.)

Not only does PD make it so that you can’t get around easily. It’s a brain disease, so lots of times the brain goes wacko. He or she becomes a whole different person. Bev was actually talking about that too.

She and I commiserated for a bit; they like us have been married a long time. All the early on things that they and we had. They had a really good life up until just a few years ago, when she thinks he really went downhill in a hurry. But that kind of story is just so common, and somehow doctors aren’t able to describe the signs to the care partner. It seems almost like you would need to have a psychiatric version of Parkinson’s doctor. PD is a movement disorder, so one seeks out a movement disorder specialist but probably one also needs a brain specialist or its psychiatric personality disorder specialist, in other words, a brain guy to to talk about some of these issues. The sad thing is the person with Parkinson’s disease doesn’t recognize what is actually going on. The person helping a person with a dementia issue, of course, is struggling to do the right thing to get the best care. Those around him or her (the family) without the lived experience, those that aren’t dealing with it on a day to day basis, they think that everything is generally okay, because the PD person the demented person is able to actually keep it together for an hour or 2 or whatever it takes to get through the party or the social activity, and so, those people, that part of the family who is not living there does not get to see the whole picture.

They think everything is fine or mostly fine.

Whoever it is, is obviously ill with PD and can’t move so good. Maybe they look old and got arthritis…

So many things are invisible. They cannot be seen. Or we choose to not see.

Carpe Diem

Wordle and Remembrance

Knowing They Can Fix Me

The gentleman said as a response to an unknown question in an advertisement about a medical institution. I was watching the morning newsy program(s) and thinking about the day. It is a concept that many, myself included, wish for. The hope is that a higher power, a greatness, a consciousness greater than one’s own will take care any difficulty and fix it whatever it is. Is that realistic? What about self reliance? All of this became too hard to think about, so, I awakened the New York Times Wordle game page and did it for a minute or two of distraction.

I inadvertently touched the archive button which I had paid no attention to previously. I found that it would let me go back and work on incomplete games. (down the rabbit hole I went) November of last year was when Cheryl moved to Bridgeway Pointe in the memory care section. There were a half dozen incomplete puzzles. I kept going backward in time working puzzles and thinking about what was happening in our life.

I got to my birthday in August of last year (2023). I did not finish the puzzle that day. I cannot recall anything about what went on that day. Perhaps it was merely another day filled with Parkinson. That goes without saying. The beauty of a journal or a blog is that often I have noted what happened on a certain day in the past. From my blog/journal:

That day I wrote about our day. Cheryl was struggling.

I am not surprised that I cannot remember my birthday last year. The event itself was unimportant to the task of keeping up with her Parkinson and her dementia. Perhaps one day an oncology style doctor will emerge to straddle the care complexities of PD, dementia and dying which no doctor seems to be able admit is the prognosis for this damnable combination of symptoms and inabilities. The phrase – no one dies from PD, usually you die with it – is very much a distinction without a difference. In fact it might peg the meter on my bullshit detector.

Perhaps next year I can recall what I did this year for my birthday and smile instead of cry.

Carpe Diem.

Dear Cheryl

Today I came to visit and you are sleeping again. So, I think that I will sit with you for a bit in your room and write you this letter.

Yesterday was a busy day for you. The Hospice aide came to give you a bath, I came after lunch and we went outside to the garden to sit in the sun, Allison came to do your hair ( it looks good) and Mike came late afternoon to check your vitals and see how you are doing. You were busy with lots of stuff.

Today it looks like you’re worn out.

When I talked to you, you did not respond. I kissed you on the cheek and you did not stir. So, my conclusion is that you are very tired and I will not disturb you.

Robert Thomas called the other day. He is going to come and visit in early May. Our plan (his mostly) is to ride bikes a lot and see where we get to. I have ridden my bike a couple of times this week when the weather was good. Once around the loop in Winton to see if I could deal with the helmet and the dog collar around my neck. It seems okay but the neck collar pushes the helmet up in back so that it is hard to see forward. It is easy to see my front tire. Yesterday I went down to Lunken to see how high the river was. It has covered the bike path under the Beechmont bridge. The fence is covered up so it must be six or seven feet deep under the bridge.

This neck stretcher really restricts movement of my head. In the short periods when it is off and I gently turn my head, it hurts to turn it very far to the side. I think that when I get it off in a couple of weeks I will be glad to restart my chair yoga and balance exercises. I am looking forward to that.

Billie and Fran and I are going to meet for lunch next week. You might remember them from when I worked in Sharonville. Anyway we are Facebook friends and thought it would be good to have lunch together one day. Billie has had some recent health issues and so has her husband. I am interested to know if Fran is still doing her flea market thing and what else she’s been up to in her life.

I have not planned any activity today. I was watching the weather all week and today was supposed to be raining, overcast  and cool. My thought was to sit with you, so I am doing that. You however are sound asleep. They must have gotten you cleaned up and dressed this morning. Did you tell Jennifer that you were not interested in getting up today when she asked you? (My guess is yes. )

I have been here for more than an hour and it appears that you are not going to awaken. I will let you rest and come back later.

As I left the Harbor I talked to Tonya, the nurse supervisor. She told me that you did not take your medication today and that you were breathing oddly earlier and she had called Mike the hospice nurse. He will come in a little bit to check you.

I love you and missed your company today. I had hoped to sit and hold hands like we did yesterday. The sun is supposed to be back tomorrow, although, it will be a bit cooler. We can still go outside tomorrow. I will put your brown jacket on you to go into the garden.

Paul

Lately I’ve Been Thinking

I did a stupid thing (my word) and injured my neck. After a couple MRIs and a couple of days in hospital and two neurosurgeons consulting with each other the eventual result is wear this necklace (dog collar) for eight weeks and all will be well.

I have found that I am getting used to it. I can remove it to shave and as long as I keep that up, it is not terribly uncomfortable. But that is not what I intended to write about here.

Few people are satisfied with “I fell” as an explanation for my wearing this device. Most will not hesitate to get more details. Those are all people who know me and know Cheryl’s situation. I must have a group of good friends who are concerned with our well being. I am grateful for that concern. It is also something for which I have not learned to be thankful and say thanks often for the kindness and help. I have an explanation of course, my head is generally somewhere else these days but that does not excuse me from being thankful for the extra hands and help.

So, thanks to everyone in my life who has helped me the past few days. You know who you are. Thanks to others who did not need a full explanation of how I fell on my face. It is an embarrassment to me no matter how many times others tell me that things happen. It morphed into some of us old guys telling stories about how we screwed up and luckily did not kill ourselves in the process. – You think that was dumb, wait until you hear this one I did. – A good discussion was had by all.

Today Cheryl was very active and animated. A friend from church and my cousin-in-law came to visit her and then while we were chatting the music guy showed up to get the residents to sing along and drum with the music. It lifted my spirits for a bit.

Carpe Diem.

When I Visit Cheryl

When I visit Cheryl which happens everyday I notice things. Some of these are after I return home. I am not so concerned about where I put my shoes after I take them off for example. When Cheryl was here with me I was constantly concerned with trip hazards lying about in our condo. Occasionally we would argue about things like doormats and trow rugs, all of which I had removed from the condo over time as her ability to move and walk and balance became worse.

I notice how the staff interacts with the residents. They are generally kind and attentive. They are, I imagine, acutely aware of their own staffing levels.

I notice how the residents interact with the staff. Helen, another resident in the Harbor with Cheryl, is awake and alert and talkative today. Last night the Super Bowl went into overtime. It was not won until just before 11 PM, so, I imagine that several maybe most of the staff sat up and watched it until the end like I did. The difference being that I did not have to get up at 5 AM to make the 6:30 AM staff meeting. Some of the staff have that combination of Monday morning sleepy grumpy going on. I get that. I used to be a service/engineering manager. Mondays were often unnecessarily busy while we picked up all the stuff that fell on the floor over the weekend.

I notice the level of staffing. It is less so on the weekends as one might expect it to be. If there is one single area that I could suggest could be improved it would be weekend staffing. The world in general revolves around folks not working weekends without some sort of extra incentive which is often money. Rewarding altruism and empathetic caring for folks who cannot care for themselves is hard work for the administration and work life balance is strained when the work and life are similar. Conjuring useful rewards for weekend work like appealing to their sense of altruism is probably tough.

I notice the changes when the shift ends. The next group comes in. It is generally a smooth transition.

I hear the little discussions between the staff – what’s important to them.

I also find that if I am not the full time care partner I was when Cheryl was home with me I am able to have opinions about how others do the same task. I wonder about how I might do it differently. I keep those thoughts to myself. Juggling the needs of a dozen people at different stages of Alzheimer’s, Lewy body, Parkinson’s and other forms of dementia is more complicated than I had to deal with at home. My personal dilemma was remaining kind and thoughtful with lack of sleep but a lot of love. Love is sometimes hard to find if you are Mr. Lack-of-sleep-cranky-pants.

All of this wandered though my thoughts today as I visited with Cheryl and sat with her while she dozed in her chair. She was slightly awake but sitting with her eyes closed. She was uninterested in having company. I just held her hand for a bit and it seemed like she relaxed and fell into a nap. I miss her daily company.

Carpe Diem. ( Carpe Somnum when it is time.)

Pizza Tuesday

Sometimes You Can Be Surprised

There are special people in your life that unbeknownst to you are looking out for your welfare.

A wonderful thing happened to me last evening. A friend – I thought Cheryl’s friend – asked me in a text message if I was still going to a favorite pizza place on Tuesday evenings. I am not.

This was something that Cheryl and I started many years ago as a reason to have some time out of the house and enjoy each other’s company without the distraction of other things. We started the pizza tradition on a Friday night twenty or so years ago. Her Parkinson was non-existent. Our favorite pizza store at the time became very crowded on Friday and over time we tried different days until we landed on Tuesday for no other reason than it was not crowded on Tuesday. “Anything goes Pizza Tuesday” was born.

It is amusing as to how little family traditions are born. Our pizza Tuesday was born this way. On some Tuesdays we would try a different pizza store but it was always pizza. Sometimes Cheryl wanted a calzone. On those occasions I would get a hoagie sandwich. But Tuesday was sacrosanct and pepperoni was king. If it did not have pepperoni on it, it did not count as a pizza. It was merely flatbread with stuff on it.

As Cheryl’s disease progressed I kept up our outings for pizza. I invited our good friend and neighbor to come with us. I invited other friends and family. Some nights we had a crowd. Some nights it was Cheryl and me. During the pandemic pandemonium I carried out from our favorite pizza store and we ate around our dining table with our neighbors.

I kept this going for longer than was probably necessary. The last few times we went on a Tuesday evening Cheryl had little mobility and I would push her around in her transfer chair.

But I have digressed a bit. When Mary Jo texted me and asked about pizza Tuesday, I asked her what did she have in mind. After a few exchanges we settled on a time and she and her husband would pick me up. Two days ago, Cheryl had been mostly sleeping away the day as a result of all her activity on Monday. After our chat with Dr. Y she had three visitors in succession. That sort of thing tires her out. Sundowner Syndrome is annoying to deal with in winter but Showtime which she is still able to muster up for an hour or so just plain wipes her out. So on Tuesday she mainly slept. And on Tuesday I went to the bar with Gary and Mary Jo.

Help from Many Others

Two women have been a great deal of help to me over the past couple of years are Cindy and Linda. Both are cousins-in-law. Cindy is married to Cheryl’s cousin. Linda was married to my cousin Frank. Frank is gone from this Earth. Both asked how they could help me spontaneously without me asking for them to help. Men are not good at asking for help of any kind, especially me. Cindy recognized that first and volunteered to come and sit with Cheryl for a couple hours once a week while I went to ride my bike and got some exercise. Linda did a similar thing. I was able to twist her arm to get her to sit with Cheryl while I attended a seminar on caregiving a couple years ago. They will always be front and center in my mind when I think of people who have helped me the most as Cheryl’s cognition deteriorated.

If I look with different eyes I find myself surrounded by caring and kind people just like Cheryl is surrounded by caring and kind people at Bridgeway Pointe. Sometimes you just do not know who will step in to help.

Carpe Diem.

When She Tries To Eat Her Fidget Beads

When she tried to eat her fidget beads
I reacted not with excitement but love
When she poured her water in her lap
I came to her aid with love and caring
When she talks so soft I cannot hear
I ask her to use her outside voice
And yell with all her might

She replied I am.
I took her fidget beads with me today
I realized the meaning of out of sight,
out of mind in her case totally
I got a towel to dry her pants and sleeve
I asked her if I could help her change clothes
No, she said. I did not push.
And I am learning to read lips.

Today she tried to eat her fidget beads
To her these resemble candy.
Touch is more important than being right
Gentle touch and just being

Christmas Season 2023

(A beginning of a new life and the ending of an old one.)

This holiday season marks the beginning of a new phase in our life. “We’re in this love together” popped up on the Spotify playlist as I started to write my thoughts. Cheryl and I are in this love together and forever.

For the past few weeks I have been organizing, sorting and cleaning our living space. I have gotten rid of multiple copies of old emails and address lists. I have meticulously gone through rubber banded stacks of old Christmas cards and retrieved pictures, snapshots and photographs. The work has been tiring and emotionally draining. Old photos bring back fond memories and nostalgic remembrances of good times. And some old photos do not. Those photographs distract me into detective mode. (Who is that person? Why were we there?) Even with those questions hovering in the background of my mind I think, look how young we were once. How did we get here?

This year has been a tumultuous one with both love and mental chaos, physical challenges, extra equipment and extra medical help as Cheryl’s Parkinson and dementia seemed to overwhelm her and me. Her good days became fewer. Now, today, Thursday, December 28th, my sister Laura’s birthday, Cheryl is staying in the Harbor memory care section of Bridgeway Pointe. How we got here is a story about the agonizingly slow progression of Parkinson’s disease and the mental toll it takes on many of its victims. It is also a story of how it slowly came to me that although I thought my love could conquer all, there is strong evidence that extra hands and expertise were needed. It is a story for another day.

This holiday period is very different. About two weeks before the Thanksgiving Day holiday Cheryl moved into the Harbor. A week and a half later as I took her to David’s house for Thanksgiving dinner, she was resistant to getting out of Bridgeway Pointe to go to David’s house. After that experience I told the kids and extended family that any more celebrations we had to take to Cheryl. We should not expect her to go to them. (It is too hard for her and for her husband.) Cheryl had settled into Bridgeway Pointe in a fashion that I had not expected.

The rest of the holiday dinners and celebrations I attended without Cheryl by my side. I visit Cheryl every day. The kids visit on many days. Her brothers and sisters and friends visit when they can. It is different. I do not know what I was expecting or what I want it to be, all that I know is, that it is different. There is something missing for me at the celebrations. I think that something is Cheryl’s spirit, her smile, her glee watching the kids open presents, catching up on family or simply delight in the moment. “Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone?” – these words are from an old song.

From here at this moment in time we begin anew. I do not know what our new life will bring but it will be better for us.

Carpe Diem.

Help Me!

This morning one of the residents who lives at the Harbor with Cheryl called for help with a deep longing in her voice. From deep inside her soul she longs for help. She does not know what that help is nor what she needs. She is mostly deaf so the aides trying to help and distract her are using their football stadium voices to communicate with her.

Another resident responds by asking about what help she needs. Her request is repeated by others. There is a deep longing for help. Cheryl is dozing off and on. Her request for help has become part of her dreaming.

They were getting organized for luncheon. The atmosphere left me with an overwhelming sense of disconnect and sadness.

Carpe Diem

A New Day, New Responsibilities

My son’s life got jammed up today. He asked me if I could be at his house when the smallest grand son, Zachary, got off the bus in the afternoon. I said sure I can do that for you.

Four weeks ago that would not have been my answer. A couple of days ago it was yes.

Life changed when Cheryl moved into Bridgeway Pointe. She adjusted pretty quickly. I think that it is taking me longer. She slept late today. Today I have babysitting duty.

And as luck would have it, I was not needed for duty.

Haiku: Too bad, how sad, Dad. | Zachary okay today. | No need for grand Dad.

Carpe Diem.