Since moving to Anaheim, Gary has fallen over backwards twice from the dining table. We have a bar height table that has chairs with very long legs that sit on carpet. Both times, I think he was trying to get up from the table by scooting the chair backward which will NEVER work. Both times he fell backward and struck a sliding glass door. So, stop with the judgment on why he was sitting at the table by himself. I deal with enough guilt without hearing from the readers. Sometimes, a girl just has to pee.
This last event happened on Sunday afternoon. Heather and I heard him fall and retrieved him from the chair for a thorough inspection. He seemed fine. No more thoughts were encountered regarding his possible injury until I got home from work Monday evening to find a stern caretaker telling me that at day care he fell asleep multiple times. I found out later that he actually fell asleep during exercise hour! His "handler" at the CLUB was concerned and told Jessica when she picked him up from Day Care. She noticed that he fell asleep in the car. These are not normal occurrences. So, we ate a quick food bar and went off to the hospital for a check up.
After a long day's work full of mental strain, it is uncomfortable to sit in an Emergency Room and watch your husband watch television and act completely normal while one waits on the test results. In my heart I knew that he had just been sleepy but the strain and pressure of "what people think or say" is tough. What if there was something wrong and I did not take him in? So, I went anyway. After being released, we stopped for a take-home hamburger and went home. He was fine......no medical issues except for his normal dementia symptoms. Thank you, Lord for the help.
Heather suggested that I serve him at a t.v. tray in the living room. I tried that Sunday evening.....it worked just fine. So, much for the $3000 dining table imported from the Orient. It seems as if all the material things we worked for in our lives are slowly becoming less important. For Christians, it should be that way anyway. Right?
Gary went back to day care today and I went back to work. There is no day anymore that can be classed as "just another normal day". There is no crystal ball that tells me today is the day that Gary forgets how to put on his pants or he needs to be fed all the time. What will he remember tomorrow? What will he forget or lose tomorrow?
Everyday is a new adventure. I wish these adventures on no one.
Showing posts with label dementia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dementia. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
Saturday, April 30, 2016
Verbalizing the Dementia Patient's Brain Activity
We have been blessed three nights in a row with no "accidents" in the bed. However, last night was very "noisy".
Here is a sample of what I heard:
"1601, 1602, 1603,1604,1605,1606. (pause) 10,11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18,19,20. 201, 202,203,204, cinco, seis, siete, ocho, nine, ten.
Be quiet (parroting me telling him to be quiet). Be quiet. Just be quiet. BE QUIET. Lay still. Lay Still. Be quiet. Be quiet. Shut up.
Scoot down in the bed. Don't hit your head on the headboard (I tell him this when he gets in the bed with his butt next to the pillow). Be quiet. 21, 22,23,24,25,26,27 .............28,29,30. I need to comb my hair. I have to pee."
So, I get up with him and assist him to go to the toilet with coaching of standing close to the toilet so drips go in the toilet, not on the floor. He stood there for about 10 minutes. Suddenly, Diva asks to go out so I took her downstairs to take her out. When I got back upstairs, Gary was fixing his pants and flushing the toilet. I'm not sure what happened but he had dribbled a lot on the floor and all down his pants. I took off his pajamas and put them in the shower floor for laundry in the morning. I put Gary back to bed on top of the new gigantic mattress pad that I bought.
A few minutes later he started verbalizing all his thoughts again:
"Bless you. Thanks for letting me pee. 1500. 1600.1700. 1800. Did you hear Diva cry? No? Why not? Is that Diva on the bed? Does Diva have to pee? 12, 13, 14, 15, 16........501,502......"
After Gary continued counting until 800, I decided to roll over, put a pillow on my head and try harder to sleep. It just wasn't working. My big mistake is that I keep talking to him and trying to get him to be quiet, stop talking and just let me sleep. I know better but after a while my mouth engages and I try again. "Gary, please let me have a moment's peace and let me sleep for a few minutes. Please?"
"Be quiet Gary. Have peace. Have peace. Have peace. Be quiet. " He did.
At 6:40 a.m. he asked me to help him go to the toilet. I did and he started the verbalization again. I covered my head and decided that if he at least laid still rather than wiggle constantly, I could sleep. He then realized that he did not have on his pajamas and started feeling around the bed. He thought he had taken off his pajamas and was trying to find them. I got up and gave him an alternate pair. Miraculously, I don't know what happened until 9:40 am. I slept!!!!!
During these periods when his brain activity spills from his mouth, his body motions are very active. He wiggles, moves his arms, puts his hands through his hair and just moves around the bed. It is very disturbing to one sharing the bed and hoping to sleep.
After showering and dressing, we walked out our bedroom like every day and he stopped next to the guitars hanging in the hall and asked to play his guitar. I took it off the wall, dusted it and brought it downstairs for him. I put him on the sofa with his guitar and he picked at it while I fixed breakfast. I do not mean that he picked as like in playing the guitar, I mean he literally picked at the strings like he was trying to remove a hair from the guitar. It was the first time he showed interest in music in quite a while. I have not put the guitar back on the wall in case the spirit moves him again.
Right after lunch, he crashed on the sofa. He slept enough that now he won't take a nap.
Saturdays are hard. I have so much to do around the house but I always have to keep one eye on him. Its okay because I love him. I guess if things get too tough I could just start counting.....one, two, three, four.......
Here is a sample of what I heard:
"1601, 1602, 1603,1604,1605,1606. (pause) 10,11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18,19,20. 201, 202,203,204, cinco, seis, siete, ocho, nine, ten.
Be quiet (parroting me telling him to be quiet). Be quiet. Just be quiet. BE QUIET. Lay still. Lay Still. Be quiet. Be quiet. Shut up.
Scoot down in the bed. Don't hit your head on the headboard (I tell him this when he gets in the bed with his butt next to the pillow). Be quiet. 21, 22,23,24,25,26,27 .............28,29,30. I need to comb my hair. I have to pee."
So, I get up with him and assist him to go to the toilet with coaching of standing close to the toilet so drips go in the toilet, not on the floor. He stood there for about 10 minutes. Suddenly, Diva asks to go out so I took her downstairs to take her out. When I got back upstairs, Gary was fixing his pants and flushing the toilet. I'm not sure what happened but he had dribbled a lot on the floor and all down his pants. I took off his pajamas and put them in the shower floor for laundry in the morning. I put Gary back to bed on top of the new gigantic mattress pad that I bought.
A few minutes later he started verbalizing all his thoughts again:
"Bless you. Thanks for letting me pee. 1500. 1600.1700. 1800. Did you hear Diva cry? No? Why not? Is that Diva on the bed? Does Diva have to pee? 12, 13, 14, 15, 16........501,502......"
After Gary continued counting until 800, I decided to roll over, put a pillow on my head and try harder to sleep. It just wasn't working. My big mistake is that I keep talking to him and trying to get him to be quiet, stop talking and just let me sleep. I know better but after a while my mouth engages and I try again. "Gary, please let me have a moment's peace and let me sleep for a few minutes. Please?"
"Be quiet Gary. Have peace. Have peace. Have peace. Be quiet. " He did.
At 6:40 a.m. he asked me to help him go to the toilet. I did and he started the verbalization again. I covered my head and decided that if he at least laid still rather than wiggle constantly, I could sleep. He then realized that he did not have on his pajamas and started feeling around the bed. He thought he had taken off his pajamas and was trying to find them. I got up and gave him an alternate pair. Miraculously, I don't know what happened until 9:40 am. I slept!!!!!
During these periods when his brain activity spills from his mouth, his body motions are very active. He wiggles, moves his arms, puts his hands through his hair and just moves around the bed. It is very disturbing to one sharing the bed and hoping to sleep.
After showering and dressing, we walked out our bedroom like every day and he stopped next to the guitars hanging in the hall and asked to play his guitar. I took it off the wall, dusted it and brought it downstairs for him. I put him on the sofa with his guitar and he picked at it while I fixed breakfast. I do not mean that he picked as like in playing the guitar, I mean he literally picked at the strings like he was trying to remove a hair from the guitar. It was the first time he showed interest in music in quite a while. I have not put the guitar back on the wall in case the spirit moves him again.
Right after lunch, he crashed on the sofa. He slept enough that now he won't take a nap.
Saturdays are hard. I have so much to do around the house but I always have to keep one eye on him. Its okay because I love him. I guess if things get too tough I could just start counting.....one, two, three, four.......
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Pure loneliness
It is Sunday. This weekend has consisted of a tremendous amount of organization, cleaning the garage, many loads of laundry (normal and incontinence related), cooking meals and straightening our "home office". Gary and I just finished a great meal of pineapple/jalapeno pork, red and purple jasmine rice cooked in Mango juice and garlic sautéed kale and bok choy. It was a delicious meal and Gary ate every bite....quickly. The fact that he ate it all in less than an hour was an indication that he liked it.
All this activity and the only emotion I can identify is pure loneliness. Gary is just a few feet away in the massage chair, Diva is begging for a post-dinner treat and Heather and Xander are in their living room......
Have you ever been all alone in a house full of people? What is missing here.....Gary's real brain. He no longer really looks at me. He still knows who I am but he looks past me unless I hold his chin and force him to look at my eyes. It is not the same connection. Just like I said, it is forced. Its a horrible realization that your husband is somewhat gone.
So, since he is still here and I feel so lonely, I can't help but wonder what it will feel like when the body is no longer here either? He is healthy other than the brain so it could be years. I am thankful for his other health. For widows and widowers, I wish them peace. The agony of their death must be of the worst kind of agony. My loneliness and agony is only half....our dog Diva is so sensitive that she is feeling my pain now....she came and sat next to me as I type and put her head on my wrist. So sweet.
Of course, its the same wrist that had a trash can lid slammed on it yesterday by the wind when I was cleaning the garage.....it really hurts but her head trying to comfort me is so very gentle. She just switched to licking my hand instead.
God just keeps giving me breaks. I don't know how or why I deserve the kindness. So, I will stop typing and enjoy my loneliness dissipating.
All this activity and the only emotion I can identify is pure loneliness. Gary is just a few feet away in the massage chair, Diva is begging for a post-dinner treat and Heather and Xander are in their living room......
Have you ever been all alone in a house full of people? What is missing here.....Gary's real brain. He no longer really looks at me. He still knows who I am but he looks past me unless I hold his chin and force him to look at my eyes. It is not the same connection. Just like I said, it is forced. Its a horrible realization that your husband is somewhat gone.
So, since he is still here and I feel so lonely, I can't help but wonder what it will feel like when the body is no longer here either? He is healthy other than the brain so it could be years. I am thankful for his other health. For widows and widowers, I wish them peace. The agony of their death must be of the worst kind of agony. My loneliness and agony is only half....our dog Diva is so sensitive that she is feeling my pain now....she came and sat next to me as I type and put her head on my wrist. So sweet.
Of course, its the same wrist that had a trash can lid slammed on it yesterday by the wind when I was cleaning the garage.....it really hurts but her head trying to comfort me is so very gentle. She just switched to licking my hand instead.
God just keeps giving me breaks. I don't know how or why I deserve the kindness. So, I will stop typing and enjoy my loneliness dissipating.
Sunday, April 10, 2016
Finding my True North
Many years ago when we lived in the Bay Area of California, we spent nearly every weekend sailing on San Francisco Bay. In the beginning, I hated it. Taking sailing lessons was incredibly HARD work because if you weren't doing it correctly, pulling the lines and adjusting the sails was difficult.
We learned to sail in preparation for the then coming Y2K crisis. Remember that? We knew that if the world as we knew it went to hell-in-a-hand-basket that we would have enough skills and supplies to sail out the Delta, under the Golden Gate and off to paradise. Needless to say, that never happened. However, nearly $15k later and a gazillion hours on the bay, we were accomplished sailors. Except for one thing.
Navigation. Sure, its easy with a GPS. But, what if....you are out at sea and lighting takes out your electronics. Your backup GPS got zapped, too. So, one must know the old fashioned way of navigating the currents, waves and stars. We took a navigation class at the local Sailing Club which had never failed us. (Especially the time I ran one of the boats in to the Berkeley Reef and knocked a gash in the keel. That is a story for another day.)
I failed the Navigation class with a miserable "F". I just didn't get it. Not the math, not the calculations....it just took my breath away and for a while, combined with getting my hand caught in a traveler and sustaining an injury that hurts to this day, I almost quit sailing.
There was one concept of navigation that I did understand and that was the Concept of "True North". Find the following description from Webster's Online helpful:
"True north differs from magnetic north, which varies from place to place and over time due to local magnetic anomalies. A magnetic compass almost never shows true north. In fact over millions of years, magnetic north wanders considerable and occasionally reverses so that the magnetic north pole has been near the geographic south pole at some periods in the earth's history. In the arctic region, a magnetic compass is not very useful.
To find true north from a magnetic compass you have to know the local magnetic variation and how it is varying over time. For ordinary folk this is difficult (although good maps will have magnetic deviation marked on them).
From Websters Online
Finding true north is essential for accurate navigation. Hence the metaphor. In life's journey we are often uncertain where we stand, where we are going and what is the right path for us personally. Knowing our true north would enable us to follow the right path."
As a person, I always understood that my True North seemed to be my husband Gary. He taught me so much about love, life, business and now in his Dementia, how to be a caregiver.
I always relied on him. If I was ever having a bad day, I would connect with him and he would put me right back on track, like a reliable compass.
Now, I realize who I thought was my True North is no longer a viable tool. Just like a GPS on a boat that has been disabled by lightning, Gary has been disabled by Dementia. So, what is my back up compass? Good question and I have an answer.
This morning while watching a televangelist (impossible to take Gary to church), I heard that our True North is really God. Well, duh. I can pretend all day that I didn't know that already but I'm not that talented an actress or writer. God is in control of all this that we call life. My brain and anxiety relaxed ten fold.
It is important to me that I remember this concept when the waves are crashing and we are headed upwind with a strong current in the fog. Just turn on the back up GPS and set it to True North.
Many might ask what this has to do with staying sane as a wife whose husband is experiencing the day to day Hell of dementia. It has everything to do with it. I hope that any reader of this blog never has to find out how it feels. Meanwhile, tune into your True North and enjoy the sail.
Navigation. Sure, its easy with a GPS. But, what if....you are out at sea and lighting takes out your electronics. Your backup GPS got zapped, too. So, one must know the old fashioned way of navigating the currents, waves and stars. We took a navigation class at the local Sailing Club which had never failed us. (Especially the time I ran one of the boats in to the Berkeley Reef and knocked a gash in the keel. That is a story for another day.)
I failed the Navigation class with a miserable "F". I just didn't get it. Not the math, not the calculations....it just took my breath away and for a while, combined with getting my hand caught in a traveler and sustaining an injury that hurts to this day, I almost quit sailing.
There was one concept of navigation that I did understand and that was the Concept of "True North". Find the following description from Webster's Online helpful:
"True north differs from magnetic north, which varies from place to place and over time due to local magnetic anomalies. A magnetic compass almost never shows true north. In fact over millions of years, magnetic north wanders considerable and occasionally reverses so that the magnetic north pole has been near the geographic south pole at some periods in the earth's history. In the arctic region, a magnetic compass is not very useful.
To find true north from a magnetic compass you have to know the local magnetic variation and how it is varying over time. For ordinary folk this is difficult (although good maps will have magnetic deviation marked on them).
From Websters Online
Finding true north is essential for accurate navigation. Hence the metaphor. In life's journey we are often uncertain where we stand, where we are going and what is the right path for us personally. Knowing our true north would enable us to follow the right path."
As a person, I always understood that my True North seemed to be my husband Gary. He taught me so much about love, life, business and now in his Dementia, how to be a caregiver.
I always relied on him. If I was ever having a bad day, I would connect with him and he would put me right back on track, like a reliable compass.
Now, I realize who I thought was my True North is no longer a viable tool. Just like a GPS on a boat that has been disabled by lightning, Gary has been disabled by Dementia. So, what is my back up compass? Good question and I have an answer.
This morning while watching a televangelist (impossible to take Gary to church), I heard that our True North is really God. Well, duh. I can pretend all day that I didn't know that already but I'm not that talented an actress or writer. God is in control of all this that we call life. My brain and anxiety relaxed ten fold.
It is important to me that I remember this concept when the waves are crashing and we are headed upwind with a strong current in the fog. Just turn on the back up GPS and set it to True North.
Many might ask what this has to do with staying sane as a wife whose husband is experiencing the day to day Hell of dementia. It has everything to do with it. I hope that any reader of this blog never has to find out how it feels. Meanwhile, tune into your True North and enjoy the sail.
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Urine and Grief
It seems my posts lately have all been urine related. I am sorry if this offends any of the blog readers but there is not much I can do to pick topics these days.
We had several incidents this week at home.....interestingly, not many accidents happen while Gary is a day care. We are not sure why but accident free days are accepted with glee.
Laundry seems to also be a hot topic because I do so much of it. I cannot stand the smell of urine, fresh nor stale. So, immediately following an "oops", I do laundry.
Weekends have now become stay-home-and-get-stuff-done days. I make no plans to go anywhere as it is too taxing on me to take Gary away. I have arranged for a caregiver one whole Saturday this month so I can finish arranging the garage which was mostly never organized nor unpacked. There is probably a large charity donation in the works. I am looking forward to that day .....just so I can be free and have no ties. Just need to feel some personal accomplishment. Sad, I know.
I am also thankful for a carpet shampooer. One thing I will add to my personal resume is "carpet cleaning expert". Just because one is good at a task does not mean they like it.
"Gary, why did you turn off the t.v.? Gary, turn the t.v. back on, please. Yes, I will show you how."
The conversations between us are very shallow now. Today, I came downstairs after a nap. I listened carefully for him to awaken. I missed it until he was in the hallway with a dripping penis. There is no recollection in my recent life of me running upstairs as fast as I did. I managed to pull his diaper in front of the stream to stop the flow. I screamed "stop!!!!!! but he was in a fog....not hearing nor reacting to anything."
After cleaning the carpet, he was sitting on the sofa apparently feeling sorry for himself. It is amazing what he does and does not remember. He knew he had done something to upset me but did not know what. I was emotionally overwhelmed and put my head in his lap and started to cry. I did not know what to expect. In the pre-dementia days, that would have invoked an "I'm sorry" and patting my head until I recovered.
Not anymore. He did not move his arms from underneath the blanket and just sat there. He did say "Oh, my." No other response was given. I immediately felt like I was wasting my time licking my wounds and sat up, sucked in some air and moved on to another task. Guilt is a powerful emotion.
I have turned to the emotion of grief in moments like this. My true husband is not there. In fleeting moments when he does show up....well, I cherish those.
Meanwhile, I fight the waiting-on-insurance battle to start the next round of Neurology appointments.....I guess I am still holding out for a miracle.
We had several incidents this week at home.....interestingly, not many accidents happen while Gary is a day care. We are not sure why but accident free days are accepted with glee.
Laundry seems to also be a hot topic because I do so much of it. I cannot stand the smell of urine, fresh nor stale. So, immediately following an "oops", I do laundry.
Weekends have now become stay-home-and-get-stuff-done days. I make no plans to go anywhere as it is too taxing on me to take Gary away. I have arranged for a caregiver one whole Saturday this month so I can finish arranging the garage which was mostly never organized nor unpacked. There is probably a large charity donation in the works. I am looking forward to that day .....just so I can be free and have no ties. Just need to feel some personal accomplishment. Sad, I know.
I am also thankful for a carpet shampooer. One thing I will add to my personal resume is "carpet cleaning expert". Just because one is good at a task does not mean they like it.
"Gary, why did you turn off the t.v.? Gary, turn the t.v. back on, please. Yes, I will show you how."
The conversations between us are very shallow now. Today, I came downstairs after a nap. I listened carefully for him to awaken. I missed it until he was in the hallway with a dripping penis. There is no recollection in my recent life of me running upstairs as fast as I did. I managed to pull his diaper in front of the stream to stop the flow. I screamed "stop!!!!!! but he was in a fog....not hearing nor reacting to anything."
After cleaning the carpet, he was sitting on the sofa apparently feeling sorry for himself. It is amazing what he does and does not remember. He knew he had done something to upset me but did not know what. I was emotionally overwhelmed and put my head in his lap and started to cry. I did not know what to expect. In the pre-dementia days, that would have invoked an "I'm sorry" and patting my head until I recovered.
Not anymore. He did not move his arms from underneath the blanket and just sat there. He did say "Oh, my." No other response was given. I immediately felt like I was wasting my time licking my wounds and sat up, sucked in some air and moved on to another task. Guilt is a powerful emotion.
I have turned to the emotion of grief in moments like this. My true husband is not there. In fleeting moments when he does show up....well, I cherish those.
Meanwhile, I fight the waiting-on-insurance battle to start the next round of Neurology appointments.....I guess I am still holding out for a miracle.
Saturday, March 26, 2016
I hate the smell of Pine Sol.
I sometimes wonder why things happen the way they do. I know that God has a plan but more often than not, I do not behave in such a way that is worthy of putting me in charge of this particular portion.
I'm sitting here on a quiet Saturday afternoon abhorring the smell of Pine Sol. As I type, my mind is confused by love, detest, anger, incontinence, loneliness, grief and confusion.
Gary and I went to the Neurologist yesterday to learn if there was any new news on his condition. After an MRI, and EEG and extensive blood work, he appears to still have Dementia. What an evil word.
This doctor indicated that he thought Gary was misdiagnosed almost three years ago. He was right. His dementia is genetic and rare due to his age. There is no help nor hope beyond what we already have. Gary has been referred to the University of California Irvine's Neurology Department for further testing. It is for pure science only. I'm not sure its worth it other than it may give answers to others. It may help the next generation.
So today, we went to the pharmacy and Gary moved at a snail's pace. I drug him through the store. I fought him as he demanded to properly park the store buggy in the return spot. I flamed as he straightened the rug in the store. I fumed as he fixed it again. I can't pull on him anymore as my hand hurts. I can't motivate him with words. I'm frustrated.
We came home and I put him down for a nap and had a drink. After about 30 minutes, I got in the massage chair. It comforted me until our dog, Diva came downstairs. I knew something was wrong by the way she acted. Upon reaching the bedroom, it was obvious because she moved quickly out of the way. Gary was lying on the bed, fully clothed and dry. He said, " I'm sorry but I peed on my feet and my pants." His crotch area was dry.......so, I turned around to see the closet door open. It had been closed on purpose when I put him down for the nap.
Dammit. He had opened our cabinet-enclosed dirty clothes hamper and peed in it. (It was empty). It ran down the cabinet and into the floor just missing my blazers. I yelled, I questioned and I screamed.....all for naught. He has no reason other than he has Dementia.
He is still in bed, numb, as am I. He just can't be alone....at all. Not unless I want a catastrophe.
I need to go apologize for yelling. He does not deserve this. I do not deserve this.
I have more laundry to do now. I hate the smell of Pine Sol.
If I didn't love him so much, I would hate him. Instead, I hate the disease.
I'm sitting here on a quiet Saturday afternoon abhorring the smell of Pine Sol. As I type, my mind is confused by love, detest, anger, incontinence, loneliness, grief and confusion.
Gary and I went to the Neurologist yesterday to learn if there was any new news on his condition. After an MRI, and EEG and extensive blood work, he appears to still have Dementia. What an evil word.
This doctor indicated that he thought Gary was misdiagnosed almost three years ago. He was right. His dementia is genetic and rare due to his age. There is no help nor hope beyond what we already have. Gary has been referred to the University of California Irvine's Neurology Department for further testing. It is for pure science only. I'm not sure its worth it other than it may give answers to others. It may help the next generation.
So today, we went to the pharmacy and Gary moved at a snail's pace. I drug him through the store. I fought him as he demanded to properly park the store buggy in the return spot. I flamed as he straightened the rug in the store. I fumed as he fixed it again. I can't pull on him anymore as my hand hurts. I can't motivate him with words. I'm frustrated.
We came home and I put him down for a nap and had a drink. After about 30 minutes, I got in the massage chair. It comforted me until our dog, Diva came downstairs. I knew something was wrong by the way she acted. Upon reaching the bedroom, it was obvious because she moved quickly out of the way. Gary was lying on the bed, fully clothed and dry. He said, " I'm sorry but I peed on my feet and my pants." His crotch area was dry.......so, I turned around to see the closet door open. It had been closed on purpose when I put him down for the nap.
Dammit. He had opened our cabinet-enclosed dirty clothes hamper and peed in it. (It was empty). It ran down the cabinet and into the floor just missing my blazers. I yelled, I questioned and I screamed.....all for naught. He has no reason other than he has Dementia.
He is still in bed, numb, as am I. He just can't be alone....at all. Not unless I want a catastrophe.
I need to go apologize for yelling. He does not deserve this. I do not deserve this.
I have more laundry to do now. I hate the smell of Pine Sol.
If I didn't love him so much, I would hate him. Instead, I hate the disease.
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
Two Steps Forward and Twelve Steps Back
I often feel as if I take two steps forward and twelve steps back...
Its only Tuesday. Up until today, Gary was having a better than normal week in that he only rolled down the window in the car twice, took his shoes off in the car once and had no accidents. All weekend I was able to stay on top of him, stay home and watch him every minute. We had no accidents.
Today, I came home later than normal after a visit to my own doctor and a trip to the salon for a new spring cut. I have my own minor health concerns that are going to require a militant diet for awhile and some lifestyle changes. I accepted all that before the salon and got a sassy "do". It felt good coming home to a caregiver, Jessica, Heather, Gary and Xander. They all liked my haircut and I was feeling pretty good despite the adversities that seem to mount daily.
Then, after I had a salad for dinner I started to fix my morning smoothie, open Amazon deliveries and do general stuff. If you have not been around Gary lately, it is important to point out that while sitting in the massage chair (or anywhere else), he talks incessantly and calls out of whoever he thinks is in the room. It gets very difficult to have so many "false" calls. I find that it is much like the Boy Who Cried Wolf.....sometimes we just tune him out to attempt to stay sane. That "silence" has its price.
I heard him talking while I was searching for the blender......and while I blended my smoothie, and while I was cutting open boxes. I looked up and saw him in our massage chair, zipping his jeans. Usually that means he needs to go to the bathroom. As I approached him and asked if he needed to do, he said, "No." That is because he had probably asked for assistance and I did not hear him. He had taken out his penis and peed outside of the diaper and soaked his jeans, belt, shirt, socks. I do not know how he got that much pee out of his body and all over everything....including the chair.
I took him upstairs to change him and put the clothes in the hamper. Upon going into the master bath for the first time since arriving home, I told him to stand on the tile so I could undress him and not get pee on the bathroom rugs. No need to worry about that as I realized he had already peed there earlier and soaked one of the rugs.....apparently he had awakened from his nap earlier and went toward the toilet. So, its not that his kidneys are incontinent.....its his brain that doesn't kick in and get him to the toilet.
So, I reprimanded him and felt like a yelling jerk......he is not going to learn.
So, the industrial size washer is doing its job on clothing and rugs while I cleaned the chair and saturated a bed pad with "Urine Destroy". Two steps forward......how many back?
Sometimes, I think that every time I get ahead or have a win or a moments' peace that the Universe says, "Oh no. Not today." My rational mind knows that is untrue but my emotional side wants to say "F(&^% you" to the Universe and run away. I will not do that as the stubborn side of me thinks that I will win this war.......eventually.
Its only Tuesday. Up until today, Gary was having a better than normal week in that he only rolled down the window in the car twice, took his shoes off in the car once and had no accidents. All weekend I was able to stay on top of him, stay home and watch him every minute. We had no accidents.
Today, I came home later than normal after a visit to my own doctor and a trip to the salon for a new spring cut. I have my own minor health concerns that are going to require a militant diet for awhile and some lifestyle changes. I accepted all that before the salon and got a sassy "do". It felt good coming home to a caregiver, Jessica, Heather, Gary and Xander. They all liked my haircut and I was feeling pretty good despite the adversities that seem to mount daily.
Then, after I had a salad for dinner I started to fix my morning smoothie, open Amazon deliveries and do general stuff. If you have not been around Gary lately, it is important to point out that while sitting in the massage chair (or anywhere else), he talks incessantly and calls out of whoever he thinks is in the room. It gets very difficult to have so many "false" calls. I find that it is much like the Boy Who Cried Wolf.....sometimes we just tune him out to attempt to stay sane. That "silence" has its price.
I heard him talking while I was searching for the blender......and while I blended my smoothie, and while I was cutting open boxes. I looked up and saw him in our massage chair, zipping his jeans. Usually that means he needs to go to the bathroom. As I approached him and asked if he needed to do, he said, "No." That is because he had probably asked for assistance and I did not hear him. He had taken out his penis and peed outside of the diaper and soaked his jeans, belt, shirt, socks. I do not know how he got that much pee out of his body and all over everything....including the chair.
I took him upstairs to change him and put the clothes in the hamper. Upon going into the master bath for the first time since arriving home, I told him to stand on the tile so I could undress him and not get pee on the bathroom rugs. No need to worry about that as I realized he had already peed there earlier and soaked one of the rugs.....apparently he had awakened from his nap earlier and went toward the toilet. So, its not that his kidneys are incontinent.....its his brain that doesn't kick in and get him to the toilet.
So, I reprimanded him and felt like a yelling jerk......he is not going to learn.
So, the industrial size washer is doing its job on clothing and rugs while I cleaned the chair and saturated a bed pad with "Urine Destroy". Two steps forward......how many back?
Sometimes, I think that every time I get ahead or have a win or a moments' peace that the Universe says, "Oh no. Not today." My rational mind knows that is untrue but my emotional side wants to say "F(&^% you" to the Universe and run away. I will not do that as the stubborn side of me thinks that I will win this war.......eventually.
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Loving my Husband....
The things that I love about my husband are numerous:
He is very sweet and concerned about my feelings most of the time. He feels my pain and says he is sorry even if he doesn't understand the simplest of reasons.
He loves me and recognizes me.
He loves hot coffee in bed in the morning.
He still sings "I Left My Heart in San Francisco" when it comes on in the car....
He still loves to "play drums" on everything he finds....except for his drum set.
He loves our dog and is still sensitive when she is scared from a storm.
He knows his grandson's nickname is Xander and is concerned about his welfare.
He has given me permission to make the everyday decisions I have to make because he can't help me anymore.
He is still polite to others.
He still knows all his nicknames and sometimes calls me by mine.
He is not the full man I married but I love him till Death Do Us Part....no matter what that means.....
He is very sweet and concerned about my feelings most of the time. He feels my pain and says he is sorry even if he doesn't understand the simplest of reasons.
He loves me and recognizes me.
He loves hot coffee in bed in the morning.
He still sings "I Left My Heart in San Francisco" when it comes on in the car....
He still loves to "play drums" on everything he finds....except for his drum set.
He loves our dog and is still sensitive when she is scared from a storm.
He knows his grandson's nickname is Xander and is concerned about his welfare.
He has given me permission to make the everyday decisions I have to make because he can't help me anymore.
He is still polite to others.
He still knows all his nicknames and sometimes calls me by mine.
He is not the full man I married but I love him till Death Do Us Part....no matter what that means.....
Friday, March 4, 2016
ESCAPING: not an option
I don't like myself when I am upset with Gary. The thought that came to mind this morning was: "The very man who spent years building me up and ensuring that I was strong and successful is the very man who is now tearing me down." Some might say that is a selfish way of looking at the situation.
Well, in some ways it is selfish. After all, he is the one suffering from a horrible disease. He has lost functionality and enjoyment. He has lost his career and all that implies. He can barely write his name now.
On the other hand, I am the one who wakes with him in the middle of the night to try to steer him to the bathroom to avoid accidents. I change his clothes in the middle of the night when he doesn't awake in time and has a "slip". I shower and shave him. Dress him. Groom him. Guide him. Love him. Discipline him. Remind him. All those things take their toll on the caregiver.
Yes, I have help part of the day but the weight of it all rides me all day, every day. Even though I use work to escape and still enjoy my career immensely, there are times on a break, looking at photos in my office, or on a drive home that I cannot help but think about what ifs or what was. It is a living grief process.
I buy my own birthday presents, make all the decisions (have to get input from trusted folks rather than Gary) and live in what feels like a vacuum. So many times, I just want to escape but I am too responsible.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
The Split Personality Required to Be an Executive AND a Caregiver
Ever since I met Gary in 1985, I have been focused on my career. We started together selling campground memberships/timeshare and later, oil wells. We were incredibly successful with Network Marketing. I worked as an Admissions Advisor, Director of Admissions, Corporate Director of Admissions, Associate Director, Campus President, Provost and now Executive Director. I like to think that all were promotions or a better place.
Until about seven years ago, Gary was my husband, mentor and teacher. He taught me about sales, reinforced integrity, and taught me how to think critically in every situation. I am a free spirit by nature so learning the skill of using my left brain was often tough. He hung in there and eventually, I became an Executive. While he was proud of me, he also hated that in the latter years I had surpassed his success.
When it comes to Gary, I am not sure what came first, his failure or his Dementia. He started projects that were never finished. Was it boredom or was he hiding a weakness in his thinking?
I remember vividly coming home from my former College one day when I was facing a particularly difficult day of downsizing. We were so close as a work family that it was devastating to know that I had to ask someone to leave. I asked for advice from Gary. He looked me squarely in the eye and said, "Honey, I don't know what to tell you. I have nothing left to teach you.....you learned all I have to teach and you are better than me."
On one hand I was thrilled and at the same time crushed. While I watched him pour himself a triple whiskey and coke, I made a decision. He often begged me to quit my job and stay home to work with him. I decided that no matter what, I had to continue with my success because someday I may need to be the strong one. In retrospect, my wisdom then surpassed my situation. I had no concept then of what I would be facing with his dementia that was to come.
If you have never had to decide between work and family, I hope you never do. I was challenged with learning to balance the 50+ hour job and taking care of things at home. Even when Gary was still working, I spent weekends managing the books, troubleshooting the computers, marketing the current product or designing a campaign of some sort. We worked hard and we played hard.
I remember many nights coming home from work after a long day and spending 5-6 more hours in the office. We made a lot of money. We lost just as much as Gary started failing and took over the business as I focused on my job.
Before we moved from Elk Grove, there were times when I would have a crisis at work and would call him to say I would be late. The situation was always the same. I would ask if he could feed Diva (our beagle) and start dinner until I got home. Many times he did and many times I would find him at the computer having not eaten nor started anything.
When our accountant told us to short sale our house due to the price being nearly $300k under what we owed, I really started seeing his problems. He could not make decisions without significant input. He had hired a team to raise enough money to build a Dementia Care facility. He would drive around Elk Grove to find an appropriate tract and call the same broker he had called three times before never remembering that he had.
All the while, I was running a college and doing the best I could. Is that an excuse? Maybe, maybe not.
Now, seven years later, Gary is never to be alone for fear of him falling, burning the house with the stove or walking out to never return. He goes to day care five days per week and must have a caregiver at all times until I come home.
Due to my years of compartmentalizing home and work, I can focus on work while at work. In fact, having to escape thinking of him has made me a stronger Director. I immerse myself in Profit and Loss Statements, team building and providing a quality education to the near 1600+ students who are working on their B .S. degrees.
While at home, I must focus on him. I must start to plan for the future. How will I afford the long term care that he is going to need? I need to remember to tell the agency what days I will need someone late because I have a ceremony or dinner, etc. I cannot afford to miss a beat in either role.
Sometimes it is like having a split personality. I don't have that affliction but could function well if I needed to do so.
Until about seven years ago, Gary was my husband, mentor and teacher. He taught me about sales, reinforced integrity, and taught me how to think critically in every situation. I am a free spirit by nature so learning the skill of using my left brain was often tough. He hung in there and eventually, I became an Executive. While he was proud of me, he also hated that in the latter years I had surpassed his success.
When it comes to Gary, I am not sure what came first, his failure or his Dementia. He started projects that were never finished. Was it boredom or was he hiding a weakness in his thinking?
I remember vividly coming home from my former College one day when I was facing a particularly difficult day of downsizing. We were so close as a work family that it was devastating to know that I had to ask someone to leave. I asked for advice from Gary. He looked me squarely in the eye and said, "Honey, I don't know what to tell you. I have nothing left to teach you.....you learned all I have to teach and you are better than me."
On one hand I was thrilled and at the same time crushed. While I watched him pour himself a triple whiskey and coke, I made a decision. He often begged me to quit my job and stay home to work with him. I decided that no matter what, I had to continue with my success because someday I may need to be the strong one. In retrospect, my wisdom then surpassed my situation. I had no concept then of what I would be facing with his dementia that was to come.
If you have never had to decide between work and family, I hope you never do. I was challenged with learning to balance the 50+ hour job and taking care of things at home. Even when Gary was still working, I spent weekends managing the books, troubleshooting the computers, marketing the current product or designing a campaign of some sort. We worked hard and we played hard.
I remember many nights coming home from work after a long day and spending 5-6 more hours in the office. We made a lot of money. We lost just as much as Gary started failing and took over the business as I focused on my job.
Before we moved from Elk Grove, there were times when I would have a crisis at work and would call him to say I would be late. The situation was always the same. I would ask if he could feed Diva (our beagle) and start dinner until I got home. Many times he did and many times I would find him at the computer having not eaten nor started anything.
When our accountant told us to short sale our house due to the price being nearly $300k under what we owed, I really started seeing his problems. He could not make decisions without significant input. He had hired a team to raise enough money to build a Dementia Care facility. He would drive around Elk Grove to find an appropriate tract and call the same broker he had called three times before never remembering that he had.
All the while, I was running a college and doing the best I could. Is that an excuse? Maybe, maybe not.
Now, seven years later, Gary is never to be alone for fear of him falling, burning the house with the stove or walking out to never return. He goes to day care five days per week and must have a caregiver at all times until I come home.
Due to my years of compartmentalizing home and work, I can focus on work while at work. In fact, having to escape thinking of him has made me a stronger Director. I immerse myself in Profit and Loss Statements, team building and providing a quality education to the near 1600+ students who are working on their B .S. degrees.
While at home, I must focus on him. I must start to plan for the future. How will I afford the long term care that he is going to need? I need to remember to tell the agency what days I will need someone late because I have a ceremony or dinner, etc. I cannot afford to miss a beat in either role.
Sometimes it is like having a split personality. I don't have that affliction but could function well if I needed to do so.
Getting an MRI with Valium
I get so frustrated with Gary sometimes that I want to scream....and I do. However, yesterday, I made it through without yelling, screaming or going nuts.
He was scheduled for an MRI at 1:30. The doctor gave us a valium to give him prior to the procedure. Part of the procedure is that one lies on a plank, head in a container and stillness is critical. I knew that would be a problem due to his constant talking, wiggling, patting, drumming and whatever else strikes him at the time.
I gave him the Valium before we left home and as we drove to the office, I watched him starting to slide down the seat. We arrived at the office and I managed to get him out of the car....painfully slow and always at risk of him falling asleep. After checking in, the nurse told us we needed to get back in the car and drive through the parking lot to the mobile trailer. Really?
I got him back in the car after quite a struggle. We drove to the mobile trailer, parked and then started the struggle of getting him out of the car and up the steps (about 8) and into the trailer. It was like assisting a drunk person trying to walk. All his weight was on me. As we got to the top step, the technician came out and said that he did not have a waiting room and that we needed to wait outside. He helped me get Gary safely back down the steps and I tried to walk him around the parking lot. He walked like Tim Conway when he played the old man on the Carol Burnett Show. The only difference was the reality of the moment.
I put him back in the car and waited. He was groggy. After 20 minutes, the technician came out and helped get him to the lift on the side of the trailer. He was quite helpful.
The near hour long procedure was performed with Gary taped to the board. I was allowed to touch his legs and arms as necessary. He fell asleep and started snoring so of course, that was forbidden movement. He got cold at one point and crossed his arms. He crossed his legs. He has a horrible cough and moved a tremendous amount.
When done, the technician said that he thought the tests were okay but borderline due to the movement. He assisted in getting Gary back in the car and he slept most of the way home.
Upon returning home, he slept most of the afternoon. I had some quiet hours. It was precious.
There are many feelings associated with losing a loved one to dementia. He is still here physically and mentally, there is a person there, but not necessarily my Gary. It is some other form of a man. He doesn't think like him, nor act like him but he still knows my touch and tells me he loves me.
I feel anger. Remorse. Anger. Pain. Grief. Anxiety. Frustration. Love. Did I mention Anger? Questioning. Rage.
I had my own frustrations this week. I ended up skipping a Nursing Pinning Ceremony and went to Urgent Care with a piercing pain in my side. They referred me to the ER for a CT scan. Diverticulitis was the diagnosis. I managed to get the prescriptions filled and am on heavy doses of antibiotics and am not needing the pain pills.
This too will pass and life will go on. While sitting hooked to an IV in the ER, it would have been nice to have my husband beside me or at least available by phone. There was no point in even trying as he is just clueless to the emotion of others. He still laughs and gets frustrated...the only way I can describe him is disconnected and distant.
What is next? Only God knows.
He was scheduled for an MRI at 1:30. The doctor gave us a valium to give him prior to the procedure. Part of the procedure is that one lies on a plank, head in a container and stillness is critical. I knew that would be a problem due to his constant talking, wiggling, patting, drumming and whatever else strikes him at the time.
I gave him the Valium before we left home and as we drove to the office, I watched him starting to slide down the seat. We arrived at the office and I managed to get him out of the car....painfully slow and always at risk of him falling asleep. After checking in, the nurse told us we needed to get back in the car and drive through the parking lot to the mobile trailer. Really?
I got him back in the car after quite a struggle. We drove to the mobile trailer, parked and then started the struggle of getting him out of the car and up the steps (about 8) and into the trailer. It was like assisting a drunk person trying to walk. All his weight was on me. As we got to the top step, the technician came out and said that he did not have a waiting room and that we needed to wait outside. He helped me get Gary safely back down the steps and I tried to walk him around the parking lot. He walked like Tim Conway when he played the old man on the Carol Burnett Show. The only difference was the reality of the moment.
I put him back in the car and waited. He was groggy. After 20 minutes, the technician came out and helped get him to the lift on the side of the trailer. He was quite helpful.
The near hour long procedure was performed with Gary taped to the board. I was allowed to touch his legs and arms as necessary. He fell asleep and started snoring so of course, that was forbidden movement. He got cold at one point and crossed his arms. He crossed his legs. He has a horrible cough and moved a tremendous amount.
When done, the technician said that he thought the tests were okay but borderline due to the movement. He assisted in getting Gary back in the car and he slept most of the way home.
Upon returning home, he slept most of the afternoon. I had some quiet hours. It was precious.
There are many feelings associated with losing a loved one to dementia. He is still here physically and mentally, there is a person there, but not necessarily my Gary. It is some other form of a man. He doesn't think like him, nor act like him but he still knows my touch and tells me he loves me.
I feel anger. Remorse. Anger. Pain. Grief. Anxiety. Frustration. Love. Did I mention Anger? Questioning. Rage.
I had my own frustrations this week. I ended up skipping a Nursing Pinning Ceremony and went to Urgent Care with a piercing pain in my side. They referred me to the ER for a CT scan. Diverticulitis was the diagnosis. I managed to get the prescriptions filled and am on heavy doses of antibiotics and am not needing the pain pills.
This too will pass and life will go on. While sitting hooked to an IV in the ER, it would have been nice to have my husband beside me or at least available by phone. There was no point in even trying as he is just clueless to the emotion of others. He still laughs and gets frustrated...the only way I can describe him is disconnected and distant.
What is next? Only God knows.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
Continued decline and the Circle of Life
On Friday, I took Gary to the new Neurologist. We are about to undergo an MRI and an EEG. His decline has been rapid and the doctor wants to check out all the possibilities.
During that meeting, he recommended that I talk to our Primary Care Physician about Medicare and Financial Assistance that might be available to me as a caregiver. I had my own appointment later in the day with the PCP so I knew that I would ask him.
Unbelievably, when I got there, the doctor asked me about Medicare and whether or not I had registered Gary. The neurologist had sent him a message during the day to give him a heads up. At least some people still care and communicate.
During my visit, the doctor asked about Gary and we discussed decline, incontinence, vitamins and the circle of life. He stood and drew an imaginary circle in the air and talked about the infant, child and the elder as it relates to behavior and body functions. So true.
I was diagnosed with asthma related to allergies and was given medication. Its hard to do all that I do when I am hacking up a lung and having difficulty breathing. I hope it helps.
Meanwhile, back at the Gerard ranch....Heather and Xander are gone for the weekend so I'm on my own. Gary and I went to bed early and I followed the normal ritual.
"Gary, please go to the toilet and pee." It is important to point out the part about the toilet as he often whips out his penis to pee wherever he stands.
He did go to the bathroom and we went to bed. I was fast asleep at 3:15 when he awakened me and asked me to untie his pajama pants that he was holding in his hand while sti
Saturday, February 6, 2016
Urine Chronicles: Loss of two pair of Dress shoes
Life sure has its changes.
Gary and I have been married 30+ years. We have traveled to many countries, lived in waaay too many places and shared incredible adventures. I am thankful that during those years we did not stay home and wait on retirement. We would never have had those adventures.
In 2016, it is difficult just taking him to do errands. I cannot imagine ever vacationing with him again. That makes me incredibly sad, as we so loved traveling and playing in exotic, fun places.
I day dream of going to Cuba and seeing the for-so-long-forbidden-to-America land and meeting the people. I long to go back to Panama where we were to retire and play golf and hike.
Now, just to go meet friends for dinner, I have to arrange for a caregiver....and then worry the whole time. It is not right nor fair. But it is what it is.
This was an incredibly tough week. I am sick with a bad cough and no energy. Our new caregiver is working out well and Gary seems to listen to her. He was kicked off the transportation bus due to constantly unbuckling his seat belt, taking off his shoes and at least twice, threw his shoes at the driver. (I have a hard time believing that one but he must have been terribly frustrated by something). So, now his caregiver, Jessica, goes to his day care and picks him up. So far her biggest issue is that he likes to click the window button....constantly.
On Friday, I came home to find Gary and Jessica sitting at our dining table together and he was coloring a picture. He sat quietly and without comment as she explained the events of the afternoon.
Normally, while he takes a nap, she sits downstairs or works on assignments while he sleeps. She can hear him get out of bed and checks on him to prepare him for a walk. This day, she did not hear him get out of bed, but rather heard something a few minutes later. She entered the bedroom to find it empty and walked in to the master suite where he was standing fully clothed, in the shower, peeing. She let him finished and then noticed that he had a pair of jeans in his hand. Since they were "damp", she looked around and followed a trail into my master closet. Sure enough, I had not put away two of my best pairs of shoes and had those same jeans on the floor ready to put on upon arrival from work. He had urinated in my best pair of shoes and soaked the suede pair of pumps.
The poor girl cleaned it up and placed the shoes where I could decide whether or not to toss them out. Let's examine that picture for a moment. Can you imagine me sitting in a conference room at the college on a warm day and the feet start to warm up, sweat and activate that smell? I don't think so. Both pair went into the trash.
Meanwhile, back at the dining table as she told me the story. I was so sick and tired that I just stood there and listened. There was no emotion. Gary showed no reaction as if he were hearing a fiction novel centered around his life.
Today, we had to run to the UPS Store to send a document to Florida by Monday. One of the persons who defrauded us in 2012 was found guilty and had sentencing next week. We are hoping for some restitution. Again, Gary remembers none of this and I am the one chasing the dreams alone.
Immediately before leaving the house, Gary used the toilet and we got in the car. Within minutes of heading down the Anaheim Hills, he announced that he needed to pee. I swallowed my judgment and anger and asked if he could hold it until we finished mailing the letter. He said yes. NOTE TO SELF: don't believe him.
We went into the UPS Store while I held his hand and led him like a small child. He again stated that he needed to pee. While standing in line, he said, "Ada, I'm peeing."
I looked down and saw nothing. Viola, the diaper worked! I haven't been so delighted in quite a while. However, he doesn't realize that his new underwear is actually a diaper and could not understand why his jeans were not wet. So, he kept feeling himself looking for moisture. I verbalized that I was glad he was wearing a diaper for the benefit of the guy behind the counter. He grinned and seemed relieved. Can you imagine overhearing the conversation without benefit of the background. In retrospect, it was pretty funny.
The next decision was whether I continue to the grocery to pick up three items knowing his diaper was wet or going home, changing him and coming back. Kids go for a while with a wet diaper, right?
So ten minutes later, we exited the store (fastest I have ever got him to navigate the store) and went home.
What a day.....
Gary and I have been married 30+ years. We have traveled to many countries, lived in waaay too many places and shared incredible adventures. I am thankful that during those years we did not stay home and wait on retirement. We would never have had those adventures.
In 2016, it is difficult just taking him to do errands. I cannot imagine ever vacationing with him again. That makes me incredibly sad, as we so loved traveling and playing in exotic, fun places.
I day dream of going to Cuba and seeing the for-so-long-forbidden-to-America land and meeting the people. I long to go back to Panama where we were to retire and play golf and hike.
Now, just to go meet friends for dinner, I have to arrange for a caregiver....and then worry the whole time. It is not right nor fair. But it is what it is.
This was an incredibly tough week. I am sick with a bad cough and no energy. Our new caregiver is working out well and Gary seems to listen to her. He was kicked off the transportation bus due to constantly unbuckling his seat belt, taking off his shoes and at least twice, threw his shoes at the driver. (I have a hard time believing that one but he must have been terribly frustrated by something). So, now his caregiver, Jessica, goes to his day care and picks him up. So far her biggest issue is that he likes to click the window button....constantly.
On Friday, I came home to find Gary and Jessica sitting at our dining table together and he was coloring a picture. He sat quietly and without comment as she explained the events of the afternoon.
Normally, while he takes a nap, she sits downstairs or works on assignments while he sleeps. She can hear him get out of bed and checks on him to prepare him for a walk. This day, she did not hear him get out of bed, but rather heard something a few minutes later. She entered the bedroom to find it empty and walked in to the master suite where he was standing fully clothed, in the shower, peeing. She let him finished and then noticed that he had a pair of jeans in his hand. Since they were "damp", she looked around and followed a trail into my master closet. Sure enough, I had not put away two of my best pairs of shoes and had those same jeans on the floor ready to put on upon arrival from work. He had urinated in my best pair of shoes and soaked the suede pair of pumps.
The poor girl cleaned it up and placed the shoes where I could decide whether or not to toss them out. Let's examine that picture for a moment. Can you imagine me sitting in a conference room at the college on a warm day and the feet start to warm up, sweat and activate that smell? I don't think so. Both pair went into the trash.
Meanwhile, back at the dining table as she told me the story. I was so sick and tired that I just stood there and listened. There was no emotion. Gary showed no reaction as if he were hearing a fiction novel centered around his life.
Today, we had to run to the UPS Store to send a document to Florida by Monday. One of the persons who defrauded us in 2012 was found guilty and had sentencing next week. We are hoping for some restitution. Again, Gary remembers none of this and I am the one chasing the dreams alone.
Immediately before leaving the house, Gary used the toilet and we got in the car. Within minutes of heading down the Anaheim Hills, he announced that he needed to pee. I swallowed my judgment and anger and asked if he could hold it until we finished mailing the letter. He said yes. NOTE TO SELF: don't believe him.
We went into the UPS Store while I held his hand and led him like a small child. He again stated that he needed to pee. While standing in line, he said, "Ada, I'm peeing."
I looked down and saw nothing. Viola, the diaper worked! I haven't been so delighted in quite a while. However, he doesn't realize that his new underwear is actually a diaper and could not understand why his jeans were not wet. So, he kept feeling himself looking for moisture. I verbalized that I was glad he was wearing a diaper for the benefit of the guy behind the counter. He grinned and seemed relieved. Can you imagine overhearing the conversation without benefit of the background. In retrospect, it was pretty funny.
The next decision was whether I continue to the grocery to pick up three items knowing his diaper was wet or going home, changing him and coming back. Kids go for a while with a wet diaper, right?
So ten minutes later, we exited the store (fastest I have ever got him to navigate the store) and went home.
What a day.....
Sunday, January 24, 2016
I colored in a coloring book today....for hours.
It has been a normal day. We awoke early and I decided to fix breakfast. After waffles and sausage, the coffee tasted good.
Gary took direction well while showering. All with commands (one at a time), he showered, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, got dressed and got ready to go to the store. We went to Target with little drama. We shopped and came home.
I made a delightful chicken salad and we ate. We took advantage of my new coloring books and colored for a while. Then Gary took a nap while I watched the playoff game and colored some more. I colored a lot. It is good thinking time. It is good to think. I made no profound proclamations but feel good.
A nap sounded good so I joined Gary for a while. As I "napped" he talked or whispered incessantly. I am able to tune him out most of the time. How sad that I have to do that but it is a way to stay sane.
He ate dinner and is sitting in the massage chair now. He has settled in very nicely with the new caregiver. She is very sweet and capable. She still has patience.
So, we will start another week. Thank you, Lord.
Gary took direction well while showering. All with commands (one at a time), he showered, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, got dressed and got ready to go to the store. We went to Target with little drama. We shopped and came home.
I made a delightful chicken salad and we ate. We took advantage of my new coloring books and colored for a while. Then Gary took a nap while I watched the playoff game and colored some more. I colored a lot. It is good thinking time. It is good to think. I made no profound proclamations but feel good.
A nap sounded good so I joined Gary for a while. As I "napped" he talked or whispered incessantly. I am able to tune him out most of the time. How sad that I have to do that but it is a way to stay sane.
He ate dinner and is sitting in the massage chair now. He has settled in very nicely with the new caregiver. She is very sweet and capable. She still has patience.
So, we will start another week. Thank you, Lord.
Monday, January 11, 2016
Urine Chronicles - The Prequel
I would like someone to explain something to me. The answer will satisfy my curiosity if it comes from a male or from a female who stands to pee.
Twice now, I have left Gary standing at the toilet preparing to urinate. Twice, I have left him alone for privacy and walked away. Twice, he has saturated his pants and socks while standing at the toilet with his penis in his hand. This last time, he was still standing there saying that he was trying to pee but couldn't. The only thing I can figure is that he is indeed peeing but not aiming well and missing the toilet and it is just running down his pants. Thoughts?
I know that it is weird to inquire but the logic behind how this keeps happening is driving me nuts. The "adult underwear" is not working because he doesn't often lose control.....but when he does, we will be ready!!! This is more of a Gary-is-not-aware-of-his-pointer or the-stream-is-not-fully-flowing issue. Any advice would be considered and appreciated.
I am keenly aware that a solution is to go with him every time and supervise...can't do as I am not here all the time and the poor caregivers may not want to do that. He has the mind control, for the most part, to not go in a diaper.....we are in between urine problems. So, I have named this blog "The Urine Chronicles" with the hope that there is no sequel.
We start with a new caregiver on Monday. I'm sure there will be a story or two in our future.
Twice now, I have left Gary standing at the toilet preparing to urinate. Twice, I have left him alone for privacy and walked away. Twice, he has saturated his pants and socks while standing at the toilet with his penis in his hand. This last time, he was still standing there saying that he was trying to pee but couldn't. The only thing I can figure is that he is indeed peeing but not aiming well and missing the toilet and it is just running down his pants. Thoughts?
I know that it is weird to inquire but the logic behind how this keeps happening is driving me nuts. The "adult underwear" is not working because he doesn't often lose control.....but when he does, we will be ready!!! This is more of a Gary-is-not-aware-of-his-pointer or the-stream-is-not-fully-flowing issue. Any advice would be considered and appreciated.
I am keenly aware that a solution is to go with him every time and supervise...can't do as I am not here all the time and the poor caregivers may not want to do that. He has the mind control, for the most part, to not go in a diaper.....we are in between urine problems. So, I have named this blog "The Urine Chronicles" with the hope that there is no sequel.
We start with a new caregiver on Monday. I'm sure there will be a story or two in our future.
Friday, January 8, 2016
Caught in Hurricane Ada
I had a dream last night. In the dream, Gary and I were on a sailboat somewhere on the ocean. The conditions were similar to a time when we were on a sailboat in the West Indies in the middle of the night, riding out a squall with 40 knot winds (this really happened to us). The boat was rocking and surfing the waves while the fear of not being in control was very real. Panic had set in despite the fact that the crew and captain were well in control.
When in a storm on a boat, if waves and winds get unsafe, the first step is to put out a storm sail. That is a smaller than normal sail that gives you more control of the boat. If things get really bad, you can perform a maneuver called a "heave to" which stops the forward movement of the boat and gives you a few moments to breathe while you rest or possibly check the conditions of the boat.
In my dream, we had done all those things. I kept hearing water running and slightly awoke to realize that I was not in storm conditions and the sound I hear was Gary peeing. Since his Dementia diagnosis, I normally awaken when he leaves the bed at night. This time, I guess due to the "storm" I had missed him leaving the bed/boat. He was standing in the bathroom adjacent to our bedroom peeing on the floor, trashcan and decorator baskets. I screamed at him as if he were about to go overboard. (Had we been on a real boat, he might have been in danger of being pushed :)) He was five feet from the toilet and was in a dazed state - or asleep.
At 1:30 am, the rest of the story included clean up, questioning and a tremendous amount of meditation to try and counter the adrenalin/fury.
Back to bed. He remembers none of it. I remember every detail. Yuk!
So, there is fatigue on the horizon of today. I started thinking of the comparison of my current life as it relates to the storm analogy in my dream. If I can remember my sailing experiences and make sure I just always assume bad weather and sail nothing except a storm sail, maybe I can remain in better control. If I can remember when tired to "heave to" and stop the chaos, I can think and rest a moment. I still do not have clarity on how to stop the waves and wind of dementia but if I keep these tricks in mind, I may not join him in the insanity.
Another trick might be to pretend that I am in the eye of a hurricane. Winds are raging all around and there are unsafe and confusing particles flying everywhere....but for the moment, I am safe in the eye. Now, if I can just stay here.....I used to joke about being called Hurricane Ada. This is NOT what I had in mind.
Sunday, January 3, 2016
* Edited: There is no sobbing tonight. I am numb.
**This blog has been edited as the original was misleading. I realized that in it, I hurt my daughter Heather's feelings in that it appears I was furious because they keep their door locked. Quite the contrary. I am in complete agreement that they keep their doors locked as Gary has been found sleeping in their beds and being there when he shouldn't be. I was furious with the world and with Gary, not Heather and Xander. In fact, had the door not been locked, he most likely would have peed in their room as opposed to the hallway. So, I'm glad she let me know she was hurt....I had another good cry because of it. I love you, Heather.
Today started normally. Gary and I got were awakened by Xander, our 4 year old grandson squealing about something he considered delightful. I got up and went to the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast since we can no longer go to church.
My thoughts were on taking down the Christmas tree and doing some tax preparation. After I finished breakfast, I left Gary at the table while I went upstairs to go to the bathroom. I was gone about five minutes. As I walked out into our upstairs hallway, I witnessed Gary standing in the hallway next to a locked bathroom peeing.
After inquisition, screaming and lots of anger, it was determined that he had to go badly and rather than ask where the bathroom was, he attempted to follow me. Since Heather and Xander keep their doors locked, he stopped to try those (as he does frequently) before losing all hope. I was furious. Knowing that I had a problem, I moved him into the shower and began the clean up process.
I grabbed the carpet shampooer and started the clean up. In the middle of sucking the now clean water out of the carpet, the shampooer stopped working. It has been used since Diva was a puppy, so I guess it was to be expected.
I rushed Gary through a shower and did some quick research on a good buy on machines. Once dressed, we took off for Costco. Gary seemed VERY unclear all day. As we arrived at Costco, he was moving at a snails pace. He said he was not in pain, but just moving s-l-o-w-l-y.
To save time, I asked the door attendant where the carpet machines for sale are kept. She directed me to the right aisle and amid hundreds of crazy shoppers, I found them. They were on a shelf and very heavy. At this point, I was very overwhelmed by Gary, the reality of the situation and the crowds. I said to him 3 times, "Gary, please help me get this box down." I guess on the third time I was very forceful and loud. A couple standing nearby assessed the situation and by the look on the man's face, he knew Gary was not responding and jumped in to assist. The man told me to stand back while he moved the box and his wife held the buggy still. I started crying.
My emotions zoomed from thankful to embarrassed to dependent to pissed off. I thanked them for their help and they said, "Have a happy New Year!". God's servants are everywhere.
I did all I could to not lose it in the store. I choked back the tears. There was so much traffic in the store and in the parking lot, that I made Gary walk behind me and hang on to my jacket so I would know he was there. Once we reached the outer parking lot, I put the box in the car, took back the buggy and joined Gary in the car. I sobbed. He just sat there. Finally, he looked at me and asked why I was so upset. I told him all the reasons.....
We got home and I assembled the machine and shampooed the hallway and our bedroom. Well, why I was at it, I also did part of the stairs. The machine has some very cool attachments. Halfway down, I would have had to move to a downstairs electric outlet and realized I was tired. I've been fighting a head cold and headache for days and determined that I was overdoing. So, I put the new machine away. I put the old machine away....at least until I can put it out for garbage.
Oh yes. The Christmas tree also came down and was stored.
After fixing Tamales for dinner, I sat down to write this blog. Prior to that, I walked Gary to the bathroom and saw him in front of the toilet. As per usual, I said, "Close the door, put up the toilet seat and then flush." I closed the door behind him and walked away. A few minutes later, he walked out and went to the coat rack to put on his jacket.
I asked where he was going and he replied, "Nowhere." I asked why he was putting on a jacket and he replied, "Because I peed all over myself."
I looked up and sure enough, despite standing in front of the toilet, he didn't make it. What was he doing all that time? He has no recollection.
So, we have finished the second shower of the day and the second urine related load of laundry. The expletives were flying.
I knew I would know the right time to start using diapers. They have been preventative until now. Today, they are going to be part of life.
I don't know how long I can do this. There is no sobbing tonight as I am numb.
Today started normally. Gary and I got were awakened by Xander, our 4 year old grandson squealing about something he considered delightful. I got up and went to the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast since we can no longer go to church.
My thoughts were on taking down the Christmas tree and doing some tax preparation. After I finished breakfast, I left Gary at the table while I went upstairs to go to the bathroom. I was gone about five minutes. As I walked out into our upstairs hallway, I witnessed Gary standing in the hallway next to a locked bathroom peeing.
After inquisition, screaming and lots of anger, it was determined that he had to go badly and rather than ask where the bathroom was, he attempted to follow me. Since Heather and Xander keep their doors locked, he stopped to try those (as he does frequently) before losing all hope. I was furious. Knowing that I had a problem, I moved him into the shower and began the clean up process.
I grabbed the carpet shampooer and started the clean up. In the middle of sucking the now clean water out of the carpet, the shampooer stopped working. It has been used since Diva was a puppy, so I guess it was to be expected.
I rushed Gary through a shower and did some quick research on a good buy on machines. Once dressed, we took off for Costco. Gary seemed VERY unclear all day. As we arrived at Costco, he was moving at a snails pace. He said he was not in pain, but just moving s-l-o-w-l-y.
To save time, I asked the door attendant where the carpet machines for sale are kept. She directed me to the right aisle and amid hundreds of crazy shoppers, I found them. They were on a shelf and very heavy. At this point, I was very overwhelmed by Gary, the reality of the situation and the crowds. I said to him 3 times, "Gary, please help me get this box down." I guess on the third time I was very forceful and loud. A couple standing nearby assessed the situation and by the look on the man's face, he knew Gary was not responding and jumped in to assist. The man told me to stand back while he moved the box and his wife held the buggy still. I started crying.
My emotions zoomed from thankful to embarrassed to dependent to pissed off. I thanked them for their help and they said, "Have a happy New Year!". God's servants are everywhere.
I did all I could to not lose it in the store. I choked back the tears. There was so much traffic in the store and in the parking lot, that I made Gary walk behind me and hang on to my jacket so I would know he was there. Once we reached the outer parking lot, I put the box in the car, took back the buggy and joined Gary in the car. I sobbed. He just sat there. Finally, he looked at me and asked why I was so upset. I told him all the reasons.....
We got home and I assembled the machine and shampooed the hallway and our bedroom. Well, why I was at it, I also did part of the stairs. The machine has some very cool attachments. Halfway down, I would have had to move to a downstairs electric outlet and realized I was tired. I've been fighting a head cold and headache for days and determined that I was overdoing. So, I put the new machine away. I put the old machine away....at least until I can put it out for garbage.
Oh yes. The Christmas tree also came down and was stored.
After fixing Tamales for dinner, I sat down to write this blog. Prior to that, I walked Gary to the bathroom and saw him in front of the toilet. As per usual, I said, "Close the door, put up the toilet seat and then flush." I closed the door behind him and walked away. A few minutes later, he walked out and went to the coat rack to put on his jacket.
I asked where he was going and he replied, "Nowhere." I asked why he was putting on a jacket and he replied, "Because I peed all over myself."
I looked up and sure enough, despite standing in front of the toilet, he didn't make it. What was he doing all that time? He has no recollection.
So, we have finished the second shower of the day and the second urine related load of laundry. The expletives were flying.
I knew I would know the right time to start using diapers. They have been preventative until now. Today, they are going to be part of life.
I don't know how long I can do this. There is no sobbing tonight as I am numb.
Saturday, December 26, 2015
"Ghost Busters" revisited. I have turned into a monster.
Gary and I have been at my Dad's house in Virginia for 7.5 days. I love being around this side of the family since we are not together often. Since being off work and having "downtime" I have learned a few things.
In the few days prior to the flight here, I had worked up an incredible anxiety over being able to manage (or not) Gary during the flight. Even though he has only had a few accidents, I worried about him and had him wear a diaper. We had no issues. I was concerned about the 40 minute scramble in Atlanta. No issues as the attendant was right there to wheel him to the bathroom and get us to the next gate....which was right across the aisle from our arrival gate. All the planning paid off. I'm too hard on myself sometimes. And at the same time, had I not planned so well it may have ended differently.
As we picked up the rental car and I had to leave him for two minutes while I walked seventy stalls down the airport garage, I worried he would leave. The attendant said she would watch him.....but would she. It all turned out well until I pulled up the curb, had him get in the front seat and while I moved to the back of the vehicle to unload the luggage, he locked me out. It was 28 degrees outside and I was pounding on the window for him to unlock the door. He just stared at me. After screaming at him enough, he unlocked the door. The poor man working at Budget saw my dilemma and held the back door open long enough for me to get in before he locked it again. I told him that I wished the disease of Dementia on no one he knows. He said, "Merry Christmas."
On a side-note, no one here says "Happy Holidays". There is no such thing as political correctness and I
have found myself delving into gossip and unnecessary caring about others' business. It seems so silly to be caught up in such minor issues....but it is natural here.
On the two hour drive, Gary must have clicked the door lock and window at least 400 times. I could not get him to stop no matter what I tried. Eventually, I was a wreck. His anxiety level was not helped even with my magic trick Sedalia. We arrived safely at my Dad's house and the vacation began.
It has been a quiet week. We have barely left the house except to run errands, go to eat and some visits. It is restful except for Gary being confused. I find that my highs and lows of patient (my patience) behavior are more radical. When things are calm, I am better able to cope with his constant needs. However, in a small bathroom, with no air vent and a leaky toilet (new one on the way), I find my patience with Gary's needs non-existent. The best of me as a caregiver is good. The worst of me as a caregiver feels evil.
I watched "Ghost Busters" recently. When the the evil ghost takes over the body of Sigourney Weaver and floats above the bed, one could substitute my face for hers. At least, that is how it feels when the rage takes over my emotions. I can't imagine ever hurting him, but the imagination can run wild.
I am exhausted. I sleep well here except for having to take Gary to the bathroom each times he needs to go. He can't find the right room, nor the light switch (2 feet higher on the wall than at home), nor the raise the toilet seat, nor hit it squarely. I have cleaned the floor here waaaayyy tooo many times in one week. Then, I have to wait for him to go back to bed. Now keep in the mind that our bedroom is three feet from the bathroom. He just can't find his way.
So, in my spare time, I have thought of the twelve days of Dementia Christmas and would like to share with you all. Please feel free to sing along. I'll start at the end....work your way backwards.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my husband said to me...
"Where is my comb? (11)
When do we go home? (10)
My socks don't match. (9)
I can't find the toilet. (8)
Can I have more coffee? (7)
Where is the dog? (6)
Hey, Ada Mae....(5)
What is his name? (4)
When do we leave? (3)
Gee, I'm very hungry. (2)
and a Loving wife who's gonna go nuts!
We have two more days here and a early morning foggy drive over the mountain to the airport. Please continue to pray for miracles. We get them everyday.
For all the other caregivers reading this.....there is a New Year coming. Hoping for changes is scary because so far the changes have all been for the worse. But FAITH can take you through it all. Just enjoy the good moments.
Merry Christmas everybody.
In the few days prior to the flight here, I had worked up an incredible anxiety over being able to manage (or not) Gary during the flight. Even though he has only had a few accidents, I worried about him and had him wear a diaper. We had no issues. I was concerned about the 40 minute scramble in Atlanta. No issues as the attendant was right there to wheel him to the bathroom and get us to the next gate....which was right across the aisle from our arrival gate. All the planning paid off. I'm too hard on myself sometimes. And at the same time, had I not planned so well it may have ended differently.
As we picked up the rental car and I had to leave him for two minutes while I walked seventy stalls down the airport garage, I worried he would leave. The attendant said she would watch him.....but would she. It all turned out well until I pulled up the curb, had him get in the front seat and while I moved to the back of the vehicle to unload the luggage, he locked me out. It was 28 degrees outside and I was pounding on the window for him to unlock the door. He just stared at me. After screaming at him enough, he unlocked the door. The poor man working at Budget saw my dilemma and held the back door open long enough for me to get in before he locked it again. I told him that I wished the disease of Dementia on no one he knows. He said, "Merry Christmas."
On a side-note, no one here says "Happy Holidays". There is no such thing as political correctness and I
have found myself delving into gossip and unnecessary caring about others' business. It seems so silly to be caught up in such minor issues....but it is natural here.
On the two hour drive, Gary must have clicked the door lock and window at least 400 times. I could not get him to stop no matter what I tried. Eventually, I was a wreck. His anxiety level was not helped even with my magic trick Sedalia. We arrived safely at my Dad's house and the vacation began.
It has been a quiet week. We have barely left the house except to run errands, go to eat and some visits. It is restful except for Gary being confused. I find that my highs and lows of patient (my patience) behavior are more radical. When things are calm, I am better able to cope with his constant needs. However, in a small bathroom, with no air vent and a leaky toilet (new one on the way), I find my patience with Gary's needs non-existent. The best of me as a caregiver is good. The worst of me as a caregiver feels evil.
I watched "Ghost Busters" recently. When the the evil ghost takes over the body of Sigourney Weaver and floats above the bed, one could substitute my face for hers. At least, that is how it feels when the rage takes over my emotions. I can't imagine ever hurting him, but the imagination can run wild.
I am exhausted. I sleep well here except for having to take Gary to the bathroom each times he needs to go. He can't find the right room, nor the light switch (2 feet higher on the wall than at home), nor the raise the toilet seat, nor hit it squarely. I have cleaned the floor here waaaayyy tooo many times in one week. Then, I have to wait for him to go back to bed. Now keep in the mind that our bedroom is three feet from the bathroom. He just can't find his way.
So, in my spare time, I have thought of the twelve days of Dementia Christmas and would like to share with you all. Please feel free to sing along. I'll start at the end....work your way backwards.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my husband said to me...
"Where is my comb? (11)
When do we go home? (10)
My socks don't match. (9)
I can't find the toilet. (8)
Can I have more coffee? (7)
Where is the dog? (6)
Hey, Ada Mae....(5)
What is his name? (4)
When do we leave? (3)
Gee, I'm very hungry. (2)
and a Loving wife who's gonna go nuts!
We have two more days here and a early morning foggy drive over the mountain to the airport. Please continue to pray for miracles. We get them everyday.
For all the other caregivers reading this.....there is a New Year coming. Hoping for changes is scary because so far the changes have all been for the worse. But FAITH can take you through it all. Just enjoy the good moments.
Merry Christmas everybody.
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
I DON'T WANT TO BE STRONG!
I know people mean well, but frankly, I am very tired of hearing how strong I am. I don't want to be strong. I don't want to be tested anymore.
Don't misunderstand. I am thankful that God has given me the strength to endure what we are going through as a family. I am eternally grateful. But, I am still human and I am sad, tired, grieving and still expected to rise each morning and perform at peak levels in life and work. That is very hard to do....day after day.
I do believe in self-fulfilling prophecy, so it messes with me that I just said that I don't want to be strong. That means that if I keep saying it....then I will lose that strength. I certainly can't do that to myself. Dammit.
So, here I am. 52 years old with a 67 year old husband with Dementia. Why? I know the reasons.....there is nothing I can do about it. That pisses me off. If my language offends, well, I am sorry. Sometimes, I just have to be honest about it all. I hate it.
Yep, hate is a strong word. I love Gary. I hate the situation. But, everyday I have to dig deep, move forward and draw on every ounce of faith that I have. God has put me in this situation for a reason. He either has a huge purpose for me or an intense sense of humor.
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me...." Yes, Ada. Keep telling yourself that quote.....just keep saying it.
Don't misunderstand. I am thankful that God has given me the strength to endure what we are going through as a family. I am eternally grateful. But, I am still human and I am sad, tired, grieving and still expected to rise each morning and perform at peak levels in life and work. That is very hard to do....day after day.
I do believe in self-fulfilling prophecy, so it messes with me that I just said that I don't want to be strong. That means that if I keep saying it....then I will lose that strength. I certainly can't do that to myself. Dammit.
So, here I am. 52 years old with a 67 year old husband with Dementia. Why? I know the reasons.....there is nothing I can do about it. That pisses me off. If my language offends, well, I am sorry. Sometimes, I just have to be honest about it all. I hate it.
Yep, hate is a strong word. I love Gary. I hate the situation. But, everyday I have to dig deep, move forward and draw on every ounce of faith that I have. God has put me in this situation for a reason. He either has a huge purpose for me or an intense sense of humor.
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me...." Yes, Ada. Keep telling yourself that quote.....just keep saying it.
Sunday, December 6, 2015
I am pooping....
Gary and I awoke this morning with smiles on our faces. He seemed to be a little clearer than normal....while we were still in bed. It didn't last long.
I went down to the kitchen to make some fresh ground Starbucks Christmas blend and decided to make a breakfast casserole. We enjoyed our breakfast and headed to get showers and start our day.
Most days now, we shower together so I can shave Gary and assist with hurrying him along. He has always liked long, hot showers. Now, though, he would shower until the Flash Heater burned before he would get out of the shower. So, I help....
We had gotten out of the shower and I had dressed. Gary was standing at MY sink, using MY toothbrush. One tidbit that the reader should know is that Gary talks incessantly most of the time so it is easy to start tuning him out. It is unfortunate but it is form of sanity preservation. Anyway, I tuned in when he was brushing his teeth, in his underwear, and stated "I am pooping". What?????
Sure enough, he went right in his underwear less than two feet from the toilet. I will spare the details....the yelling, the scolding, the smell, the extra shower and the laundry.
Now, several hours later he is taking a nap. No more issues. Thank you, Lord.
I am not cut out for this type of servitude. Pray for my strength and his constipation (just kidding).
I went down to the kitchen to make some fresh ground Starbucks Christmas blend and decided to make a breakfast casserole. We enjoyed our breakfast and headed to get showers and start our day.
Most days now, we shower together so I can shave Gary and assist with hurrying him along. He has always liked long, hot showers. Now, though, he would shower until the Flash Heater burned before he would get out of the shower. So, I help....
We had gotten out of the shower and I had dressed. Gary was standing at MY sink, using MY toothbrush. One tidbit that the reader should know is that Gary talks incessantly most of the time so it is easy to start tuning him out. It is unfortunate but it is form of sanity preservation. Anyway, I tuned in when he was brushing his teeth, in his underwear, and stated "I am pooping". What?????
Sure enough, he went right in his underwear less than two feet from the toilet. I will spare the details....the yelling, the scolding, the smell, the extra shower and the laundry.
Now, several hours later he is taking a nap. No more issues. Thank you, Lord.
I am not cut out for this type of servitude. Pray for my strength and his constipation (just kidding).
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