hope

A Letter

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Dear Cheryl,
Today I got up a little before 7AM. I had coffee, some toast and an orange while working through the Wordle and the Nerdle. I found a reference to Nerdle in an article in the WSJ. You get six chances to solve a math equation. (Something like: 12+35=47) It is my new challenge for the morning coffee experience.
I looked at the list for the day. I had purposely left my journal open to that “Each Day” list I told you about last evening after I watered all the plants. Our finances are okay for now. And some robocaller keeps calling my cellphone from a 651 area code. I did not answer. I also stopped some Amazon subscriptions that I had forgotten to stop when you moved to Bridgeway. I now have enough coffee to last until May, I think. Maybe June.
It is hard to remember to do something(s) when you consume so much of my thought process. I make various attempts to distract myself with other fun things. When I do that I often forget to do other chores that actually need doing.
Also this morning I got out some great northern beans to soak. I am going to make bean soup tonight or early tomorrow. I spent some time looking at various bean soup recipes on the world wide web but ultimately I will probably create my own. I know that you never cared for bean soup because you you were worried about farting. Now that you are there and I am here, I do not concern myself with that dilemma. And I probably will not worry over a specific recipe. Maybe just; the french trinity, a little olive oil, some garlic, the beans and some chicken broth. Season to taste with basil and other spices like cumin for that old sneaker background flavor. I know you are not going to eat any so I can suit my palate.
Some of this I am writing while Michael the hospice case nurse is examining the sore on your bottom and dressing it for you. The aides noted it on your chart info. And Mike is addressing it. If you wonder what he did, he rubbed an antibiotic ointment on the area and put the biggest band-aid on it I have ever seen. I looks like the sores that you rubbed on your butt while sitting on the toilet at home before I got the terry seat covers from Amazon. This sore is right at the end of your tail bone. If you could eat a little more, perhaps you would get more padding there and your tail bone would not be trying to wear through.
I went over to the small cafe that is in the Drake Center for lunch when it looked as though the staff was getting all of you ready for your lunch. I noticed that in the past if I sat with you for lunch or dinner that I would become anxious if you did not eat well. I would try to help my anxiety be helping you to eat and we might even fight if I anxiously awaited putting the next bite of food into your mouth. It was aggravating for you as you worried about disappointing me. It was aggravating to me because I realized that I had removed your last bit of independence. It is better that I feed myself somewhere else without annoying you.
Lunch was good. Something called a chicken club sandwich and some chunky steak fries to go with it. I also got a piece of pineapple upside down cake. I took that home with me for later. My eyes were bigger than my stomach. (I am eating it now while I write this letter to you.)
I paid cash for $9.67 lunch with a $20 bill and marveled as the attendant got out her iPhone to calculate what she owed me for change. I reminisced about teaching rudimentary math and GED topic areas at Southwestern College downtown. The same question popped into my head that popped at least once during every class I taught after the first one there – Why is this so easy for me and hard for other people? And then two things dawned on me – there is no CASH button for her to input how much money I gave to her; there are no numbers on her screen at all, she merely inputs what she sees in front of her (just like McDonald’s). I could tell her the answer but to me, that seemed both impolite and pedantic, so I waited politely.
Afterward we sat together for awhile when we were both finished with our lunches this afternoon. I really enjoyed that. Just sitting and holding hands reminds me of when we were much younger. Do you remember sitting in the March sunshine and holding hands in the woods when the Boy Scouts showed up in that park in Kentucky? That is a great memory of mine.
Know that I love you and I miss you here at home. I wish our situation was different but I also know that you are getting excellent care at BP.
Your loving husband,
Paul

In a Facebook group someone suggested that I write a letter to Cheryl each day. It could be cathartic, she said. Writing and journaling is cathartic. Writing a letter can and does channel ones thoughts. I am writing to her about my day as though she is far away and I want her to be here in my part of the world.

Carpe Diem

Words, Wordle and Anagrams

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An early morning wake-up activity for me is working my way through the Wordle, Quordle and Octordle, although I have little idea how to pronounce the last one. Being non-competitive does not mean that I do not enjoy intrinsic triumphs. I am a fan of crosswords, golf and trivia. All of these can have an externalized competitive setting but primarily these are the player versus the game itself. Nevertheless, words and word games are a fascination to me.

Occasionally working my way through these in the morning sparks other thoughts. An arbitrary word guess – because i am stuck and I have pecked in five letters to discover what my brain thinks about it – will turn into a valid word, often wrong, but valid. Campo was one of those. I am one of those who has several dictionaries and a couple bibles. I tend to look up bible citations and previously unknown words. “Campo” is a grassland plain in South America. (The Spanish and Portuguese got there first so they got to name things, I guess.)

In Octordle the object is to find all eight words in as few guesses as possible. My first two guesses are generally wasted while I hunt for vowels first. Once one of my vowel words showed all green but that was not my lowest score (low scores are best). Another internal fight I have with myself is to focus (or not) on a single word. Sometimes guesses are answers elsewhere. Those are just strategies. Today in one group all five letters where there after my third word entry (first guess). These were “r,a,t,e,h” sort of clumped in a corner grouping. EARTH or HEART are both good guesses here. I picked heart and I was incorrect. An anagram of both words is HATER which was the correct guess.

My brain whorled off into the ether. Heart versus hater. Light versus dark. Without a heart, one cannot live. Without hate not only can one live but life itself is brighter. An anagram is a simple rearrangement of the same letters. Perhaps we need more anagrams in our lives.

Carpe Diem or maybe Carpe Lucem!

It is Quite a Task

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It is a task to watch her struggle to walk. She will not ask for assistance or help. One has to brave the storm and help anyway. To me as her principal helper, it is frustrating.

We went to the physical therapist and the occupational therapist today. I suppose I was hoping for some magical solution to Cheryl’s interest and attitude towards exercise. I suppose I was hoping for a story end like the tale of Lazarus. (“Rise up and walk!”)

He suggested to her that she practice by taking big steps and for exercise stomp down on the floor to emphasize a marching motion. He suggested that she practice getting out of and into a chair– nose over toes. Bend forward to stand up. Bend forward and stick your butt out to sit. When you are up – grab your walker. Practice this often and muscle memory will kick in. When we were home she complained of pain in her back. Her core is weak.

He politely suggested that I should coach her to put her feet in the right place and lean forward to stand up. Her has no idea how much friction that coaching causes. (You are always telling me what to do!) I do tell her to lean forward and stand up. I usually put my hand on her back to help her and steady her as she rises. She leans on me pretty hard. She might say stop pushing but if I remove my hand I find that she was leaning hard backward on me and she can easily stumble back and lose her balance. I ignore her complaint mostly and apologize later when I am sure she is stable.

I learned an important nuance today from Justin the physical therapy guy. He had never met Cheryl before so part of the visit was him looking through her records and asking various questions about this and that. He asked about falls. Everyone new asks about falls. I replied that Cheryl falls a couple times a week. She usually falls backwards and it seems to me that it is getting worse. She tends to lean backwards when getting up from a chair. If she passes by a stable solid piece of furniture that she has grabbed for extra support she hold onto that as long as possible even to the point of leaning backwards to maintain contact. Justin told me that is pretty typical for folks with balance issues. (Huh. I was under the misguided illusion that parkies tend to hunch forward. Cheryl never hunches forward.)

I know that there is no magical solution. But I can hope.

Just like I can hope her voice will get stronger with speech therapy.

Just like I can hope for the occupational therapist to be useful to her.

The palliative care clinic is focused on improving her sleep. Part of that is controlling her constipation. If she sleeps well she does better during the day. She can remember who I am for example. She will remember to eat. Perhaps she will quit losing weight.

There is no cure for this debilitating and degenerative disease.

Carpe Diem.