Two Twenty-Five Ante Merīdiem

I am getting up, she announced when she came back from the bathroom. The bed’s earthquake motion of her going to the toilet in the middle of the night, surprisingly, was not followed by the chuff, chuff, chuff of her shuffling to the bathroom door across the bedroom carpet. She was certain that it was time to go to church. That guy will be here soon to pick me up, she told me. I did not know what to say. She went on to say that we had to get the kids something to eat before we left.

She was moving around easily without any struggle. Picking up her favorite sweatsuit to put on as though it was 8 AM. I tried to coax her back to bed by pointing out that it was Monday. We did not go to church today. We did that yesterday.

It is a little after 2 AM. I am Mr. Crankypants at 2 AM. She is dreaming and I am not able to break through. A good thing is that she is able to use the toilet while she is sleeping. A bad thing is now I am awake. I want to be angry but that emotion quickly shifts to worry and anxiety about what else will happen so I get up too.

The first thing I did is move and hide her meds for the next day. That is an easy task since she often loses things that are immediately in front of her. She once lost her slippers that were still on her feet. I tried a little more reasoning. I may have shouted thinking I could break through the fog. In the end I got up and sat in my chair with my little tablet thinking I could read for a bit.

She turned on the 10,000 lumens on the kitchen ceiling to find something to eat. She drank the last of the orange juice and thawed another can to make more. Leftover donuts from our Sunday morning treat jumped into her view so she ate one.

Sunday’s paper was still laying on the kitchen table. She read that for a bit while munching on a donut and drinking orange juice. She got up and rinsed her sticky fingers. She asked me if I wanted a donut. No, thank you, I said to her.

Eventually she came into the living area and sat in her amazing electrically operated chair. She reclined it all the way to match mine. We sat quietly for a few minutes. I got up and turned off the 10,000 lumens and plunged the living area back into the deep twilight of the glowing nightlights and other electronic lights sprinkled around our condo. I walked back over to my chair and reclined again. I watched her as my eyes readjusted to the dark.

3:16 AM

I heard her adjust her recliner to the sitting upright position (yunyunyungah) – as the mechanism beat itself against the travel limit. She sat upright for a few minutes.

I asked her again, do you want to lay down for a bit? We do not have to go anywhere until tonight. You have your support group meeting tonight at 7 PM. Do you remember? Yes I remember, she replied.

I came over to her in the darkened room and helped her up. “Which way is it?”, she asked. “This way”, I told her. I held her hand and led her back into the bedroom. As I did that I removed her glass case from the dining room table.

When We got there I gently removed her glasses and helped her take off her sweatsuit jacket. She told me she wanted to keep the pants on. I will be warm that way, she said.

Through this I noticed she was shuffling again. Her dreamy brain unencumbered by Parkinson’s disease was gone. Her semi-awake Parkinson brain was back. I got her back in bed and we laid for a couple more hours. I think she slept. I know I did.

A Song by Elton John…

… Just a pawn outplayed by a dominating queen
It’s four o’clock in the morning
Damn it listen to me good
I’m sleeping with myself tonight
Saved in time …

Someone saved my life tonight, Elton John

And butterflies are free to fly, fly away… Crazy times. Especially at night.

Carpe the ante meridiem. Holy cow PD sucks in the early morning hours.