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.
Showing posts with label frustration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label frustration. Show all posts
Saturday, March 26, 2016
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.
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.
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.
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).
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
The Case of the Haunted Jacuzzi
My cell phone rang late in the day. I saw Heather's picture and knew something was wrong as she only calls me in an emergency....or something REALLY strange. I'll give you one guess which case this was....right, REALLY strange.
Heather: "Do you have a Jacuzzi tub in your bathroom? How do I turn it off? Dad turned it on somehow and I can't turn it off. It sounds like a truck idling from downstairs but I came to check on Dad and it is the tub! In the background I could hear Gary going on about some totally different subject. While humorous, I had to focus.
I asked several questions, like did you turn off the button? There was only a knob sticking up and that didn't work. She texted me a picture of what looked more like an air duct usually found on the side of the tub. We have not used the Jacuzzi since we moved in so I was not sure. I told her to fill the tub with water so the motor would not burn up since she said it had been running for quite some time.
I then suggested she go the breaker box, find the one marked tub or Jacuzzi and turn it off. Gary was still in the toilet stall so she left him, went down all the stairs, grabbed Xander's toy flashlight (it worked) and headed for the breaker. Vioila! She found the right switch and turned it to "off". Or so we thought. She went back upstairs to check on Gary (no gym membership required in this house full of stairs!) and found the tub still shooting water to and fro. I could hear it roar in the background.
I asked if the water was above the jets. She replied affirmatively. She had to leave to get Xander from day care and I was too far away to do anything. She assured me there would be no flood so I decided it was ok until I got home over an hour away.
When I arrived home, I put on a pair of shorts to get in the tub since the spigots and the drain are on the far end of the tub (pretty stupid design). I also tried the button which looked nothing like a Jacuzzi button I had ever seen. Water had started to splash all over that side of the bathroom. Since she had followed my initial directions and turned the brass button one way and then the other, the air was on full spray and doing its job.
There was no button that looked anything like a switch. WTF? If we couldn't find the button to turn it off, how did Gary turn it on?
Then, I remembered a silver switch on the wall behind Gary's bathrobe. Remember when you were a kid and you went to a hotel that had a heater in the ceiling in the bathroom that had a timer switch. Yes, one of those. All this time, I thought it was a heater switch that we never needed. It was stuck on zero. Or at least there was a fine line between zero and sixty minutes. He had turned the knob all the way around, it turned on the Jacuzzi and got stuck in an on position. I turned it off the a moment of peaceful quiet after the raging waters from moments before!
So, how did it not turn off when Heather cut the power? So, I too used the toy flashlight (three other flashlights in the emergency area did not work) and headed for the breaker. It was off. Again, there is no explanation for how the Jacuzzi continued to run with the power "off" but it did. Crazy house.
So, after a day of audits and regular work, I mopped the floor while explaining the answers to all of Xander's questions. "Why did you open the shower? What is a sponge? Why is there water everywhere? What is that thing in your hand called? Why is it called a mop? Why did Papa turn on the bathtub? Why are you standing in the bathtub with your clothes on? Why are you letting the water out?" And.....etc.
So, as per normal, rather than trust that Gary will remember not to use that knob again when he is trying to turn on the lights...I got out the duct tape and covered the switch so it cannot be used.
I then remembered that I needed to double check that Gary's CLUB remembered to have him wear his jacket home (that is another topic for another day). Of course, Heather reported that he did not wear a jacket home. I was close to blowing a gasket after spending almost a half hour prior to work this morning watching a social worker at day care run around looking for Gary's clothes from when he had an accident and came home in someone's spare clothes.
Tomorrow morning, when I take him again, I will need to go in, find the social worker and make a real stink. Why is Gary the only one who comes home without a jacket? Or is he? Perhaps I have uncovered a significant problem there?
I have been known, on occasion, to be very vocal. I should be plenty warmed up by morning....look out world!
Heather: "Do you have a Jacuzzi tub in your bathroom? How do I turn it off? Dad turned it on somehow and I can't turn it off. It sounds like a truck idling from downstairs but I came to check on Dad and it is the tub! In the background I could hear Gary going on about some totally different subject. While humorous, I had to focus.
I asked several questions, like did you turn off the button? There was only a knob sticking up and that didn't work. She texted me a picture of what looked more like an air duct usually found on the side of the tub. We have not used the Jacuzzi since we moved in so I was not sure. I told her to fill the tub with water so the motor would not burn up since she said it had been running for quite some time.
I then suggested she go the breaker box, find the one marked tub or Jacuzzi and turn it off. Gary was still in the toilet stall so she left him, went down all the stairs, grabbed Xander's toy flashlight (it worked) and headed for the breaker. Vioila! She found the right switch and turned it to "off". Or so we thought. She went back upstairs to check on Gary (no gym membership required in this house full of stairs!) and found the tub still shooting water to and fro. I could hear it roar in the background.
I asked if the water was above the jets. She replied affirmatively. She had to leave to get Xander from day care and I was too far away to do anything. She assured me there would be no flood so I decided it was ok until I got home over an hour away.
When I arrived home, I put on a pair of shorts to get in the tub since the spigots and the drain are on the far end of the tub (pretty stupid design). I also tried the button which looked nothing like a Jacuzzi button I had ever seen. Water had started to splash all over that side of the bathroom. Since she had followed my initial directions and turned the brass button one way and then the other, the air was on full spray and doing its job.
There was no button that looked anything like a switch. WTF? If we couldn't find the button to turn it off, how did Gary turn it on?
Then, I remembered a silver switch on the wall behind Gary's bathrobe. Remember when you were a kid and you went to a hotel that had a heater in the ceiling in the bathroom that had a timer switch. Yes, one of those. All this time, I thought it was a heater switch that we never needed. It was stuck on zero. Or at least there was a fine line between zero and sixty minutes. He had turned the knob all the way around, it turned on the Jacuzzi and got stuck in an on position. I turned it off the a moment of peaceful quiet after the raging waters from moments before!
So, how did it not turn off when Heather cut the power? So, I too used the toy flashlight (three other flashlights in the emergency area did not work) and headed for the breaker. It was off. Again, there is no explanation for how the Jacuzzi continued to run with the power "off" but it did. Crazy house.
So, after a day of audits and regular work, I mopped the floor while explaining the answers to all of Xander's questions. "Why did you open the shower? What is a sponge? Why is there water everywhere? What is that thing in your hand called? Why is it called a mop? Why did Papa turn on the bathtub? Why are you standing in the bathtub with your clothes on? Why are you letting the water out?" And.....etc.
So, as per normal, rather than trust that Gary will remember not to use that knob again when he is trying to turn on the lights...I got out the duct tape and covered the switch so it cannot be used.
I then remembered that I needed to double check that Gary's CLUB remembered to have him wear his jacket home (that is another topic for another day). Of course, Heather reported that he did not wear a jacket home. I was close to blowing a gasket after spending almost a half hour prior to work this morning watching a social worker at day care run around looking for Gary's clothes from when he had an accident and came home in someone's spare clothes.
Tomorrow morning, when I take him again, I will need to go in, find the social worker and make a real stink. Why is Gary the only one who comes home without a jacket? Or is he? Perhaps I have uncovered a significant problem there?
I have been known, on occasion, to be very vocal. I should be plenty warmed up by morning....look out world!
Monday, October 5, 2015
Where are we going?
"Where are we going?" I am not sure what Gary is referencing, so I don't answer.
"Ada, where are we going?"
"Gary, we just came home from the store and its rainy and cold outside so we aren't going anywhere."
"When are we going home?"
It was a Sunday afternoon and we were experiencing our first real rain of the year and it was chilly in Anaheim....chilly means 65 degrees....Gary and I ran out to the store to buy pasta to add to my chicken soup. He was reading any sign he saw on the road. At first it is funny, but it can get pretty irritating.
When we came home, we sat in the living room to watch a movie. I gave us large glasses of water so we could clean up the innards before eating our soup. He kept asking, "where are we going?"
"Gary, what do you mean? We just got home! He replied, "what do you mean, we just got home?"
"Gary, we live here. What are you talking about?"
"I just asked WHERE are we going? Where ARE we going? Where are WE going? Where are we GOING?" He got increasingly louder and more irritated with each version.
This line of questioning including pleas to go home continued for about three hours. We had dinner and then retreated back to the living room where it all started. As soon as we sat down, he picked up the cup of water and looked at the writing on the cup and read from the text on the disposable cup "Where are we going?" All that time he had been reading the cup just like he does on the highway.
I felt relieved that he was reading and silly that I had not realized it earlier. However, he still had issues believing that we live in the house that we do. I told him many times before bed that we lived here. I pointed out all our furniture, the dog and many personal items around the house. He finally settled down by bedtime and accepted that we were spending the night.
These events and many others lead me to think about many things. Did he really like the old rental house that much? Is he even talking about the last home we lived in....what is he talking about? He can't answer those questions.
Will there come a time when he has to live somewhere else and he thinks of this place as home? If those days come, will he remember me? Will he call out in the night for me?
Incredible sadness overcomes me in those thoughts. I know the depths of that sadness so I try to calm my thoughts and search for the positive. I remember the 28 good years and all our adventures. I will remember for him and share those stories with his daughter and grandchildren. Will they ever want to hear them?
Today the Governor of California signed a bill to make it legal for a person to chose the die if they are terminally ill. I think this is against God's law. I don't know intimately what suffering is like, so maybe I would change my mind.
At least Gary is still happy, for the most part. He is not suffering as he seems to have accepted that he needs a lot of assistance. I shave him now, help him shower and get dressed. If he picked out his own clothes, he would resemble an old tourist in Florida who came down for the winter....dark dress socks, tennis shoes, plaid shorts and a polka dot shirt. For now, that is ok. Some days I tire from lack of patience and anger. Other days I am numb. It is hard to say which days I prefer....knowing that I am alive since emotion runs so strong or numb since it doesn't hurt. Neither was a choice I made.
That is the hard part.
"Ada, where are we going?"
"Gary, we just came home from the store and its rainy and cold outside so we aren't going anywhere."
"When are we going home?"
It was a Sunday afternoon and we were experiencing our first real rain of the year and it was chilly in Anaheim....chilly means 65 degrees....Gary and I ran out to the store to buy pasta to add to my chicken soup. He was reading any sign he saw on the road. At first it is funny, but it can get pretty irritating.
When we came home, we sat in the living room to watch a movie. I gave us large glasses of water so we could clean up the innards before eating our soup. He kept asking, "where are we going?"
"Gary, what do you mean? We just got home! He replied, "what do you mean, we just got home?"
"Gary, we live here. What are you talking about?"
"I just asked WHERE are we going? Where ARE we going? Where are WE going? Where are we GOING?" He got increasingly louder and more irritated with each version.
This line of questioning including pleas to go home continued for about three hours. We had dinner and then retreated back to the living room where it all started. As soon as we sat down, he picked up the cup of water and looked at the writing on the cup and read from the text on the disposable cup "Where are we going?" All that time he had been reading the cup just like he does on the highway.
I felt relieved that he was reading and silly that I had not realized it earlier. However, he still had issues believing that we live in the house that we do. I told him many times before bed that we lived here. I pointed out all our furniture, the dog and many personal items around the house. He finally settled down by bedtime and accepted that we were spending the night.
These events and many others lead me to think about many things. Did he really like the old rental house that much? Is he even talking about the last home we lived in....what is he talking about? He can't answer those questions.
Will there come a time when he has to live somewhere else and he thinks of this place as home? If those days come, will he remember me? Will he call out in the night for me?
Incredible sadness overcomes me in those thoughts. I know the depths of that sadness so I try to calm my thoughts and search for the positive. I remember the 28 good years and all our adventures. I will remember for him and share those stories with his daughter and grandchildren. Will they ever want to hear them?
Today the Governor of California signed a bill to make it legal for a person to chose the die if they are terminally ill. I think this is against God's law. I don't know intimately what suffering is like, so maybe I would change my mind.
At least Gary is still happy, for the most part. He is not suffering as he seems to have accepted that he needs a lot of assistance. I shave him now, help him shower and get dressed. If he picked out his own clothes, he would resemble an old tourist in Florida who came down for the winter....dark dress socks, tennis shoes, plaid shorts and a polka dot shirt. For now, that is ok. Some days I tire from lack of patience and anger. Other days I am numb. It is hard to say which days I prefer....knowing that I am alive since emotion runs so strong or numb since it doesn't hurt. Neither was a choice I made.
That is the hard part.
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
Melancholy revisted....
Today was Tuesday. My day was to consist of taking Gary to his day care, going to a breakfast meeting with my team and then to a normal day of meetings. Right before I walked to the garage, I picked up the new cd delivered yesterday and popped it in my car recorder to add to my collection. John Denver Live.....wow, I'm not sure if it was a blessing or a mistake.
As John's smooth voice accompanied Gary and I down the hill from our house and through Anaheim, Gary sang along to "Rocky Mountain High", "Country Roads" and "Poems, Prayers and Promises". He never saw the tears running down my face, but just kept singing. I was experiencing total melancholy. I knew it and tried to connect with the true emotion coursing through my veins. I identified it as grief for having lost the man I married, grief for my former life as a College President for Heald, and shock of a new job, team and home. Some of the music I so relate to growing up in the 70s and 80s at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia. There is always solace in the valley where I was raised. I was homesick for Virginia, for Sacramento, for Panama and for what "used to be".
I don't think my melancholy and grief have any correlation to my new life. I am blessed to have one of the best Executive Director positions on the West Coast. I have great new team and live in a wonderful place with loving family. The two situations are just very different and both very real.
Dementia has changed my life. Politics have changed the professional side of my life. There is a reason for it all. I know God has a plan.
As my day unfolded very differently than originally planned, I was shaken from my melancholy by a wonderful opportunity to join an executive meeting with the owner of our company and some other upper level, high thinking executives. I had to be "on" and I've learned enough over the years to compartmentalize those emotions and perform.
During the meeting and later in the day, I was missing being able to pick up the phone and share my day with Gary. He just can't understand an in-depth conversation anymore, much less empathize with any complex situation. I miss him so much. He is my partner. Or he was.....the man that is here is very sweet and I am blessed that he is happy. High maintenance, but happy.
Melancholy is real but I refuse to let it interfere with my performance.
As John's smooth voice accompanied Gary and I down the hill from our house and through Anaheim, Gary sang along to "Rocky Mountain High", "Country Roads" and "Poems, Prayers and Promises". He never saw the tears running down my face, but just kept singing. I was experiencing total melancholy. I knew it and tried to connect with the true emotion coursing through my veins. I identified it as grief for having lost the man I married, grief for my former life as a College President for Heald, and shock of a new job, team and home. Some of the music I so relate to growing up in the 70s and 80s at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia. There is always solace in the valley where I was raised. I was homesick for Virginia, for Sacramento, for Panama and for what "used to be".
I don't think my melancholy and grief have any correlation to my new life. I am blessed to have one of the best Executive Director positions on the West Coast. I have great new team and live in a wonderful place with loving family. The two situations are just very different and both very real.
Dementia has changed my life. Politics have changed the professional side of my life. There is a reason for it all. I know God has a plan.
As my day unfolded very differently than originally planned, I was shaken from my melancholy by a wonderful opportunity to join an executive meeting with the owner of our company and some other upper level, high thinking executives. I had to be "on" and I've learned enough over the years to compartmentalize those emotions and perform.
During the meeting and later in the day, I was missing being able to pick up the phone and share my day with Gary. He just can't understand an in-depth conversation anymore, much less empathize with any complex situation. I miss him so much. He is my partner. Or he was.....the man that is here is very sweet and I am blessed that he is happy. High maintenance, but happy.
Melancholy is real but I refuse to let it interfere with my performance.
Saturday, September 12, 2015
The Law of Attraction at work.....it works even when you don't want it to work!
It was starting to be a long week at work and on Tuesday night we went to bed early, around 9:00 to get some sleep. We found a great nutritional that helps one get a deeper sleep. It contains Valerian, Melatonin, etc.
About 10:30, our beagle Diva, decided she needed to go out so I arose, went down the stairs to the first floor, down the stairs to the dining room and hooked her leash and to pee we went. After going back to bed, Gary started talking. When Gary talks to me in the middle of our sleep, it sounds more like jabbering. Nonsense. I desperately tried to get him to quiet. "Honey, I need to go to work and you need to go to daycare tomorrow...lets get some sleep." "But, I'm not sleepy. Are you sure Diva does not want to go out? Do you want me to let her out?"
"No, Gary, you cannot just let her out in this house. You need to put her on the leash and take her out. I just took her."
"Why don't you just let her out?"
"Our yard does not have a fence and there are coyotes in the neighborhood, so we have to take her when she goes. But, I just did so go to sleep."
A few minutes later he started again. "What time do we get up to get ready? Should I take a shower now? Where is the mouthwash? Did you let Diva out yet?"
Finally, he quieted only to start about an hour later. Same ritual. Only, my agitation was growing and of course, Diva feels it, dislikes it and barks to go out (or to get away from us). I arose, took her through the same process and brought her back to the bedroom.
"Ada Mae? Why don't you just prop open the door so you do not need to go with her?" I again explained why.
"Were you going to take me to the CLUB tomorrow or do I stay with Heather? I really like the CLUB."
"I'm glad you like the CLUB but right now, we need to go to sleep and you just need to be quiet."
"Okay, I promise I will be quiet."
A few minutes later....."Ada Mae? Don't YOU need to go to the bathroom?" Well, I really didn't but he had angered me so that I thought I might as well get up so that my bladder would be empty in the event that he became exhausted and decided to quiet down for a long summer's nap. As I got up and rounded the end of our bed, I swear the carpet covered plywood stairs at the end of our bed (for Diva to climb into our bed) moved six inches and blocked my foot. HARD. I hear a crunch and knew instantly that something was broken. The pain started. I needed ice but knew that Gary could never follow instructions to get to the kitchen, open the freezer not the refrigerator and find the ice pack.
So, down the flight of steps I hobbled. I retrieved the ice pack and went back up the stairs in a painful, pitiful way. I was really angry now but instantly knew that this was my fault.
I have spent the last few weeks feeling sorry for myself about Gary having dementia. About not going on a 30th anniversary trip. About lots of things. I believe that the Law of Attraction works in conjunction with God to bring us what we attract. I was attracting negative. I needed to get positive IN A HURRY.
After returning to bed and explaining to Gary what I had done at least 4 times, I iced my foot and fell asleep.
The following morning took me to the emergency room and sure enough, the fourth toe on my left foot was broken. I will spend the next two to four weeks with tape and gauze on my foot.
When the doctor told me that I could have no physical activity for two weeks, I looked at him in shock and confirmed that I would not be able to play soccer. He validated that I need to not play soccer. Its a good thing, I really didn't want to learn anyway.
So, I hobbled to work and home. We were able to go to bed early and I begged Gary to be quiet all night so I could recover.
Around 1:30 in the morning, he was standing at the end of the bed tapping me on the leg. I was in a near coma-peaceful-place. "Do you need to pee?" The truth was, I think, is that he needed to pee and couldn't find the bathroom. I got up, went to the bathroom and as I was exiting (or trying to) the "poop chamber", he was standing there waiting to go to the potty himself, penis in hand and waiting. I asked him nicely to move aside so he could get to the toilet. He just stood there. I couldn't move and he couldn't get to the toilet. I asked again for him to move, nicely. Then, with no movement, I pushed him slightly out of the way, aware that I need to protect the broken, taped toe while walking past him. Due to being off kilter, I tripped and hit my good foot on the step stool next to the bathroom. Dang it....it sounded a lot like the night before when I had broken my toe.
"No, this is not happening....." So, I went down and got ice again, let the dog out and decided to just lay there and experience the pain.
I have decided not to baby the second injury and after two days, the toes will at least touch the floor. I am not going back to emergency unless it gets worse.
At work yesterday, as I walked down the hallway favoring both feet, I'm sure I looked like a wobbly two year old with a full, dirty diaper.
Dementia has certainly brought lots of changes to our lives. I need to keep laughing and praying. Laughs and prayers from our friends are certainly appreciated.
Sunday, September 6, 2015
Going swimming is off the activity list....
I'm angry. But, I pretty much stay that way these days. Its a long weekend as I have Monday off work. So, I worked like a dog on Saturday to clean the house, unpack dozens of boxes in the garage and collapse after dinner. I decided that today, Sunday, we would go to church, have lunch (yes, I ate food rather than Medifast food), take a nap, go swimming and have a nice quiet evening at home.
Church went fine. We visited a church of the Nazarene in Yorba Linda and were welcomed like family. Gary only spoke out of turn loudly once and that was to proclaim his love of the Lord so it was okay. (He has been known to add comments to the Pastor's sermon). We stopped and bought lunch. After eating I suggested we take a nap and then go swimming. Gary said that sounded like fun and I started looking forward to swimming around in warm water on a 90 degree day.
After napping, we arrived at the pool to find a young family and another couple deeply engrossed in conversation while playing in the pool. I went in first and told Gary that it was chilly but ok after moving around. I swam around about one minute and looked up to see him standing in the edge of the pool on the steps and asking the VERY pregnant woman next to him if there was one more step. She said yes and he got in. He quickly and loudly started complaining about how cold it was. I got him to move around and submerge his body to get accustomed to the cold. He followed me around the wall of the pool but acted as if he could not swim. This man was a FISH in every water situation ever encountered. I was shocked. He complained loudly and profusely until I agreed, five minutes later to leave.
He exited the pool at a fast pace and headed straight toward the gate. I yelled, "Stop! Gary!" but he does not understand that word anymore. I quickly walked around the pool to get our towels and belongings while he stood on the side of the pool in 90 degree weather, in the sun and shivered like a small child. We bundled him and got back in the car and drove home. Total time gone from home: 15 minutes. I couldn't believe that one more thing has been omitted from our lives. Something we so enjoyed before is not an activity I remotely try with him again.
I am angry. I am 52 years old and finding more and more things that I am unable to enjoy. No social life. Our 30th anniversary is in three days. No vacation. Why even go out for dinner. Why?
So, I realized that I am sitting here feeling sorry for myself while Gary lies in the bed watching "I Love Lucy." His life has been impacted just as much as mine but the difference is....he really doesn't know it or care. That is the blessing in Dementia if there is one. Some days he gets very frustrated but most of the time he just floats along and takes what he gets.
I'm not sure what life will hold for me. Happy Anniversary, Gary.
Church went fine. We visited a church of the Nazarene in Yorba Linda and were welcomed like family. Gary only spoke out of turn loudly once and that was to proclaim his love of the Lord so it was okay. (He has been known to add comments to the Pastor's sermon). We stopped and bought lunch. After eating I suggested we take a nap and then go swimming. Gary said that sounded like fun and I started looking forward to swimming around in warm water on a 90 degree day.
After napping, we arrived at the pool to find a young family and another couple deeply engrossed in conversation while playing in the pool. I went in first and told Gary that it was chilly but ok after moving around. I swam around about one minute and looked up to see him standing in the edge of the pool on the steps and asking the VERY pregnant woman next to him if there was one more step. She said yes and he got in. He quickly and loudly started complaining about how cold it was. I got him to move around and submerge his body to get accustomed to the cold. He followed me around the wall of the pool but acted as if he could not swim. This man was a FISH in every water situation ever encountered. I was shocked. He complained loudly and profusely until I agreed, five minutes later to leave.
He exited the pool at a fast pace and headed straight toward the gate. I yelled, "Stop! Gary!" but he does not understand that word anymore. I quickly walked around the pool to get our towels and belongings while he stood on the side of the pool in 90 degree weather, in the sun and shivered like a small child. We bundled him and got back in the car and drove home. Total time gone from home: 15 minutes. I couldn't believe that one more thing has been omitted from our lives. Something we so enjoyed before is not an activity I remotely try with him again.
I am angry. I am 52 years old and finding more and more things that I am unable to enjoy. No social life. Our 30th anniversary is in three days. No vacation. Why even go out for dinner. Why?
So, I realized that I am sitting here feeling sorry for myself while Gary lies in the bed watching "I Love Lucy." His life has been impacted just as much as mine but the difference is....he really doesn't know it or care. That is the blessing in Dementia if there is one. Some days he gets very frustrated but most of the time he just floats along and takes what he gets.
I'm not sure what life will hold for me. Happy Anniversary, Gary.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Traveling with a person with Dementia
Going on vacation with someone with Dementia is a new experience. Gary and I went to Yosemite National Park last week for a few days to celebrate my birthday. It is a place we have visited many times and know locations, attractions, restaurants, etc. very well.
I did all the packing and planning for the adventure which would include renting a cabin, cooking two meals per day (cabin was remote and not near restaurants), hiking, walking and chilling out. In retrospect, I way over-packed but feel good about it as I never know when Gary will need layers.....too hot, too cold, etc.
For the 3.5 hour drive, he asked a gazillion questions. Where are we going?
- When will we get there?
- Why are you driving so fast?
- Why are you driving so slowly?
- Can I drive? Why not? (I explained at least 10 times that he no longer has a valid drivers license due to the dementia...he hates that answer and still does not accept it)
- When are we stopping for lunch?
- Why are we going to Yosemite?
We arrived at the cabin and he asked why we were not staying at the Ahwahnee hotel again. I explained that the rooms there were much more expensive than the $200 per night cabin we had rented. He dropped the subject as I asked him to assist me in bringing firewood into the cabin.
I unpacked while he familiarized himself with the cabin. Throughout the stay, he often had to ask the location of the bathroom in the two room cabin. One night, I awoke to have the cabin totally dark since he turned off all the lights. He could not find the light switch nor get back to the bed. I grumbled and complained and found the light to get him back to the bed. Of course, in that period of time, he had gotten very cold and spent the rest of the night complaining that he could not get warm enough. ARGH!!!!
On my birthday, we went to the Yosemite Valley and walked to the Lower Yosemite Falls. The drought conditions are horrible! We have been to this area of the valley so many times when the water was abundant. I commented on the horrible state of stress and by Gary's comments, I could tell, he did not recognize the change. He was just enjoying himself and the beauty that was there.
The next day, we hiked a very easy hike to the Mariposa Grove of Giant Sequioas! It was an easy .8 mile hike up and .8 back down to the bus. As always, we were dressed appropriately in hiking pants, layers and with a hiking stick. Four years ago, Gary and a group of friends hike up the back slope of Half Dome....a very grueling hike. THis year, I was in the lead and often times had to stop and wait on him. He seemed fearful of walking on the gravel and was afraid of falling. I slowed to a crawl and walked with him. He wanted to stop and talk to everyone on the trail.
While friendliness on the trail is normal, his version is over the top. Many of the visitors were not English speaking and he did not seem to recognize foreign accents and the fact that many did not understand his language nor his random, often non-sensical share-outs. I tried to explain but finally gave up and let him experience people looking at him as if he is crazy. Moving along seemed to solve the problem.
While hiking, I had to take inventory of my feelings regarding traveling with him in the future. Planning needs to be extensive or plan to not take him at all. He enjoys himself except for when something foreign to his brain happens and then he gets confused. Confusion leads to frustration and that to yelling or uncomfortable situations. I am not sure what to do for our 30th anniversary later this year......we have always done a spectacular trip on the "big" anniversaries. For example:
5th anniversary: big trip to Yosemite
10th anniversary: Windjammer cruise to the Carribean
15th anniversary: 11 day backpacking trip to Yosemite and renewed vows
20th anniversary: Windjammer Pirate Cruise and 10 days in St. Lucia
25th anniversary: Visited our home in Panama and toured Costa Rica for a week
30th anniversary??? At this point, who knows? I will keep you all posted as I ponder what might work.
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
"No! No! No! I live HERE!"
"Honey, I am sorry to bother you at the office but Cheryl is sitting next to me on the sofa and you really need to talk to her." So, Gary handed his phone to Cheryl (his caregiver)who proceeded to tell me that they had just returned from their walk with Diva and that Gary had misbehaved. She sounded quite disturbed, as did he. I asked what happened and she proceeded to share with me her first experience with him being "independent and bull-headed". (THose are my descriptions, not hers :))
Apparently, they walked up our street which is a typical suburban street with near identical homes on either side of the street. He had seen a car in a driveway of a house a few doors down and proceeded to think it was mine and that he was home. As he approached the front door, Cheryl realized his confusion and told him that he was at the wrong house. He ignored her and proceeded to get out his key and moved toward the door to unlock it. She quickly escalated her communication to protect his actions and he then turned into the ten year old boy that many of us know and love. "NO! NO! NO! I live HERE!" Before he could finish putting the key in the door, she pulled his hand away and moved him back to the sidewalk.
They were both quite frustrated. He called me to say that she was inappropriate and wanted me to rebuke her. NOT. At the end of our conversation, he had apologized and agreed to be compliant with all "ADULTS" who might take care of him. I actually had practiced this same speech with my 3 year old grandson just last week. I explained that today was Cheryl's last day with him due to Heather having moved in with us and that he needed to be very nice to her.
Gary seemed to understand. I sure hope so.
It feels lately that many of my days are filled with endless hope of his compliance with.....well, whatever situation we are dealing with at that moment in time. Recently, I have also noticed that his behavior triggers an acceleration in my levels of anger and my response. I go from zero to sixty in being perturbed, frustrated and angry. I would never hurt him but words can be just as hurtful as a strike. Biting my tongue has become imperative for the sanity in our household.
Saturday, March 14, 2015
Can you walk any slower?
I spent the whole day with Gary and I am truly tired and frustrated....so is he.
We got up super early for a Saturday so that we could get ready in time to go for breakfast before we had to drive to Elk Grove to get our haircuts. I watched Gary carefully to make sure he was progressing through his morning ritual to ensure we could leave on time. At some point, I stopped watching him so he forget to shave. He looked quite unshaven all day.
He poked through everything so we did not have time for a menu breakfast and went to Carls Jr for a quick meal. We arrived at the new salon (same hair professional at a new salon) right on time. Normally, she colors my hair and cuts Gary's hair while mine is "cooking". He was a little unsettled at the new place and said hello to Everybody who walked in the shop and asked all kinds of interesting questions. Two and a half hours later, we left and headed to Pet Smart and Sprouts. The theme for the day was "how slow can you go?" He could not have a sense of urgency nor move beyond SLOW all day. Everywhere we went, he poked along and walked behind me. I repeatedly asked him to keep up with me, held his hand, etc.
He just couldn't seem to think clearly all day. I was so frustrated most of the time. I get very irritable in these situations and am not pleasant. He knows it and gets overwhelmed.
We came home and took a nap. It took him hours to come down. We went for a long walk with our dog and he moved like a snail. On the last stretch home, I thought he would need carrying. Upon reaching the front door, he asked for water and said he was hot and wanted to put on shorts. Then, very quickly, he announced he wanted to go for a longer walk. Diva was done and frankly, so was I. He fought me and kept asking until I distracted him by sitting in our back yard.
He took Sedalia and Tension Tamer tea. I fixed vegetables for dinner and as we sat down I noticed he was not overwhelmed. I must admit it was pleasant for a little while.
He cleaned up all the dishes and loaded the dishwasher without asking. He fixed ice cream and cookies, fed the dog and is sitting quietly.
It is amazing the ups and downs.
We got up super early for a Saturday so that we could get ready in time to go for breakfast before we had to drive to Elk Grove to get our haircuts. I watched Gary carefully to make sure he was progressing through his morning ritual to ensure we could leave on time. At some point, I stopped watching him so he forget to shave. He looked quite unshaven all day.
He poked through everything so we did not have time for a menu breakfast and went to Carls Jr for a quick meal. We arrived at the new salon (same hair professional at a new salon) right on time. Normally, she colors my hair and cuts Gary's hair while mine is "cooking". He was a little unsettled at the new place and said hello to Everybody who walked in the shop and asked all kinds of interesting questions. Two and a half hours later, we left and headed to Pet Smart and Sprouts. The theme for the day was "how slow can you go?" He could not have a sense of urgency nor move beyond SLOW all day. Everywhere we went, he poked along and walked behind me. I repeatedly asked him to keep up with me, held his hand, etc.
He just couldn't seem to think clearly all day. I was so frustrated most of the time. I get very irritable in these situations and am not pleasant. He knows it and gets overwhelmed.
We came home and took a nap. It took him hours to come down. We went for a long walk with our dog and he moved like a snail. On the last stretch home, I thought he would need carrying. Upon reaching the front door, he asked for water and said he was hot and wanted to put on shorts. Then, very quickly, he announced he wanted to go for a longer walk. Diva was done and frankly, so was I. He fought me and kept asking until I distracted him by sitting in our back yard.
He took Sedalia and Tension Tamer tea. I fixed vegetables for dinner and as we sat down I noticed he was not overwhelmed. I must admit it was pleasant for a little while.
He cleaned up all the dishes and loaded the dishwasher without asking. He fixed ice cream and cookies, fed the dog and is sitting quietly.
It is amazing the ups and downs.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Blog title change: Go to Your Corners and Come out Loving!
On Sunday, I was talking with a very dear woman whose husband is in an Assisted Living Facility with Alzheimers. They have been married for eons of time (not sure how many years) and are now living apart. She knows of Gary's dementia and sees him on a weekly basis. She quietly asked me, "How quickly is he progressing?" I answered that I am not sure how to answer the question compared to others but that he has declined but he seems manageable.
Today, I dropped him off at his CLUB and watched him stand at the door while an attendant came to let him in the locked environment. We had a great breakfast immediately before with lots of very lucid conversation. When he saw the woman, he lit up and went into "hug" mode. She came out, hugged him and motioned to me in the car to see if I was ok. I gave a thumbs up and he went into the building without ever looking back at me or acknowledging my presence.
Months ago that would have devastated me, but today, not so much. As I drove away I considered the conversation from last Sunday. People who know others with dementia ask "how is Gary?" but i realized today the real question is: How quickly is Gary declining? Everyone except me seems to know that he will never get better. I have been holding out hope and continuing with treatments, supplements, gimics with a private hope that someday he will get better. He will not get better. I need to face that fact. (Miracles excluded)
So, with that acceptance, I am now looking at behaviors that I have been participating in toward the end of "recovery". What can I stop doing? What angers me that shouldn't?
One of the steps to grieving is acceptance. Okay, check that one off. I accept the fact that my husband has dementia. Perhaps I should rename this blog from "Go To Your Corners and Come out Fighting" to "Go To Your Corners and Come out Loving". I will change it.
Perhaps this can assist us both in being calmer, less frustrated by expectations and overall, much happier. For all you prayer warriors, I always request that you pray for God's will. If its His will that today's acceptance is correct, I pray for more Loving. There is nothing to fight about in this situation. We will not win the battle.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
"Where is my deodorant?"
I have said to my Management Team on numerous occasions, "I don't know how you guys with kids do it in the morning!" I didn't realize until this week that they didn't necessarily know what I was referencing until Erica and had a more specific chat.
A typical morning for Gary and I goes like this:
We wake and I usually head toward the kitchen to make coffee and smoothies and put out all medicine, vitamins and potions for the day. Gary's lunch pills have to be put in a plastic mini-bag so the volunteers at the CLUB can administer them. I give him his morning pills and treatments to ensure he gets them all. While Gary has his coffee, I shower and start getting ready. I usually remind him several times that he needs to get in the shower.
He always prepares his clean underwear to bring in the bathroom prior to showering. "I need a pair of underwear, where is it?"
"Its in the drawer marked 'underwear' in the highboy."
"thanks."
He often does this two or three times prior to eventually getting in the shower. While he is in the shower, I usually replace the extra pairs and put them in the drawer.
When he does get in the shower, it is usually a 15 to 20 minute adventure. He often washes his hair three or four times, washes his body many times and reapplies conditioner....no matter what guidance I give him. He is very head-strong and usually does not listen to me whether I am nice or forceful.
Next, we go through the deodorant, shave cream and razor search. All his belongings are on the left side of the bathroom either centered around the sink, in a shave mug or in his drawer.
"Honey, where is my deodorant?"
"Its in the far left hand drawer where it is everyday." A very sweet "thanks" usually follows while he applies his first application. Soon after, he asks if he needs to shave. I usually say yes and he asks, "Where is my razor?"
"In your shave mug on the back of the sink."
"Where is the shave cream?"
"Same Place, in the shave mug on the back of the sink."
After shaving, he usually asks where his deodorant is kept. Even with a reminder that he has already used it, he reapplies.
"Where is my comb?"
"Left hand drawer, next to your deodorant." I often show him in addition to telling him and with each repeat I get more animated.
"Do I need to shave?"
"You already did."
"Oh? How did I do?"
"Let me see, did you remember the left side of your neck? You always forget that side."
"Check me. " I usually re-shave that side. Perhaps the lighting on that side is not good.
"Honey, where is my deodorant?"
Sometime during all that, I pick out his clothes including t-shirt, socks, pants, shirt and shoes. I put them on the end of the bed where he can see them when he comes out of the bathroom. Most days he asks "Where are my clothes?"
"On the end of the bed."
"Where are my shoes?"
"On the floor at the end of the bed."
"Did I use deodorant?'
During each of these interludes, I had to speed him along as much as possible due to his pace. In the middle of each of these above scenarios, he is folding tissues, stacking the change out of his pockets, folding and refolding the towels, brushing his teeth, drinking coffee, etc. The process is long.
Once dressed, we take inventory of what goes in his pockets. Combs (multiple). Wallet, cell phone, tissues (lots of tissues), house key, pill packet and more tissues.
Out the door. In the car. "Please buckle your seat belt."
"Drink your smoothie."
"why didn't you turn left back there?"
"Because we go straight to go to the CLUB."
"No we don't."
"Honey, I know where to go. I take your everyday."
"Where are you taking me today?"
"To the Club."
"Okay. How are is it?"
"Less than five minutes."
"That's not right. It takes much longer."
"No dear, we moved to Rancho Cordova so it only takes a few minutes now."
I drop him off, kiss him good bye and watch him until he is inside the buzzer door with a volunteer. He is always greeted with hugs and reciprocates...no matter how stressed he is, when he hits that door, he is fine. Then, I go to work. I almost always feel frazzled, stressed and worn out.
My next writing will focus on a day this week when he was clear.
A typical morning for Gary and I goes like this:
We wake and I usually head toward the kitchen to make coffee and smoothies and put out all medicine, vitamins and potions for the day. Gary's lunch pills have to be put in a plastic mini-bag so the volunteers at the CLUB can administer them. I give him his morning pills and treatments to ensure he gets them all. While Gary has his coffee, I shower and start getting ready. I usually remind him several times that he needs to get in the shower.
He always prepares his clean underwear to bring in the bathroom prior to showering. "I need a pair of underwear, where is it?"
"Its in the drawer marked 'underwear' in the highboy."
"thanks."
He often does this two or three times prior to eventually getting in the shower. While he is in the shower, I usually replace the extra pairs and put them in the drawer.
When he does get in the shower, it is usually a 15 to 20 minute adventure. He often washes his hair three or four times, washes his body many times and reapplies conditioner....no matter what guidance I give him. He is very head-strong and usually does not listen to me whether I am nice or forceful.
Next, we go through the deodorant, shave cream and razor search. All his belongings are on the left side of the bathroom either centered around the sink, in a shave mug or in his drawer.
"Honey, where is my deodorant?"
"Its in the far left hand drawer where it is everyday." A very sweet "thanks" usually follows while he applies his first application. Soon after, he asks if he needs to shave. I usually say yes and he asks, "Where is my razor?"
"In your shave mug on the back of the sink."
"Where is the shave cream?"
"Same Place, in the shave mug on the back of the sink."
After shaving, he usually asks where his deodorant is kept. Even with a reminder that he has already used it, he reapplies.
"Where is my comb?"
"Left hand drawer, next to your deodorant." I often show him in addition to telling him and with each repeat I get more animated.
"Do I need to shave?"
"You already did."
"Oh? How did I do?"
"Let me see, did you remember the left side of your neck? You always forget that side."
"Check me. " I usually re-shave that side. Perhaps the lighting on that side is not good.
"Honey, where is my deodorant?"
Sometime during all that, I pick out his clothes including t-shirt, socks, pants, shirt and shoes. I put them on the end of the bed where he can see them when he comes out of the bathroom. Most days he asks "Where are my clothes?"
"On the end of the bed."
"Where are my shoes?"
"On the floor at the end of the bed."
"Did I use deodorant?'
During each of these interludes, I had to speed him along as much as possible due to his pace. In the middle of each of these above scenarios, he is folding tissues, stacking the change out of his pockets, folding and refolding the towels, brushing his teeth, drinking coffee, etc. The process is long.
Once dressed, we take inventory of what goes in his pockets. Combs (multiple). Wallet, cell phone, tissues (lots of tissues), house key, pill packet and more tissues.
Out the door. In the car. "Please buckle your seat belt."
"Drink your smoothie."
"why didn't you turn left back there?"
"Because we go straight to go to the CLUB."
"No we don't."
"Honey, I know where to go. I take your everyday."
"Where are you taking me today?"
"To the Club."
"Okay. How are is it?"
"Less than five minutes."
"That's not right. It takes much longer."
"No dear, we moved to Rancho Cordova so it only takes a few minutes now."
I drop him off, kiss him good bye and watch him until he is inside the buzzer door with a volunteer. He is always greeted with hugs and reciprocates...no matter how stressed he is, when he hits that door, he is fine. Then, I go to work. I almost always feel frazzled, stressed and worn out.
My next writing will focus on a day this week when he was clear.
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Yep, my husband has dementia.
On Saturday, Gary and I ran some errands, got our haircut and drove home through a mega storm. He was a little foggy all day but in some ways more clear than he has been in a while.
There was no discussion regarding the date or day of the week. While we were eating dinner, he asked if we were driving to Elk Grove to Cornerstone Church. Not only did he know the day but the name and location of our church. There were several other conversations throughout the night that had similar awareness clues.
I have been experimenting with Medium Chain Triglycerides as a treatment. I will keep you all posted on the progression of this treatment. It is based on Coconut Oil.
I could only attribute this improvement to this treatment. It was clear but short-lived.
Today was a whole different story. I knew upon saying "good morning" that his reaction was one of sluggishness and slow-moving actions toward getting ready for church. We made it to the 10:30 service and he was very distracted during the service even though he grasped the content.
It was raining "cats and dogs" as I slowly drove home. Traffic and the storm made coming home very stressful. I explained several times that we had to pre-pack for our trip next weekend. 5 or 6 times, I reiterated that our granddaughter is getting married in Fresno and that we need to leave on Friday. He asked a few questions but did not get the concept as I started to get out socks, ties, etc. He got very agitated and at one point said, "Excuse me, why are you in Ada's closet?"
"I am Ada."
"No, you're not. How am I going to explain to Ada that you are packing clothes from her closet?"
"I am Ada. Who do you think I am?"
With a slightly sheepish look, he responded, "You are my wife." When I inquired about my name, he looked right at me and said the name of his third wife "AnnaMaria."
I laughed as that was a new one. Normally, he thinks I am Kurla (wife #2) or his daughter Heather. I explained the order of the marriages and the time frame of divorces and our marriage of 29 years. He looked at me as if I had horns.
He was lying on the bed and seemed very sleepy. I suggested a nap. He agreed and I stretched on the bed beside him. He reached over and hugged my nose which is a long standing touch of endearment that we have shared. Since this was such a familiar touch, I asked if he knew who I was. He said that I was Ada. When asked of our relationship he said, "You are somebody from the past but I'm not sure." This week, Heather posted a picture of herself, her Mom (Kurla) and her daughter, Samantha. I showed him and explained that at the wedding, he may really get confused because we will all be there....in one room. He said that situation should be interesting. I dropped the subject and we slept.
I awoke before him and started dinner. He came to the kitchen and I could tell by his look and greeting that he was back to "normal". Curiosity had me. "Honey, can you tell me my name and our relationship?"
"You are Ada Mae and you are my wife." I finished the sentence with "the best wife of your life." He smiled and said "Of course!"
As I reflected over the earlier scenario, I felt a twinge of sadness for the memories we have shared, as I know many of them are in his head but confused with other things. At least I still have them and can recall them if he should have moments of wanting to know.
He sat tonight and wrote a note in a Valentine and gave it to me early. The note makes sense and is full of love. However, his once particular and perfect hand writing is starting to morph into a sloppier, larger form. That is another sign....yep, my husband has dementia.
There was no discussion regarding the date or day of the week. While we were eating dinner, he asked if we were driving to Elk Grove to Cornerstone Church. Not only did he know the day but the name and location of our church. There were several other conversations throughout the night that had similar awareness clues.
I have been experimenting with Medium Chain Triglycerides as a treatment. I will keep you all posted on the progression of this treatment. It is based on Coconut Oil.
I could only attribute this improvement to this treatment. It was clear but short-lived.
Today was a whole different story. I knew upon saying "good morning" that his reaction was one of sluggishness and slow-moving actions toward getting ready for church. We made it to the 10:30 service and he was very distracted during the service even though he grasped the content.
It was raining "cats and dogs" as I slowly drove home. Traffic and the storm made coming home very stressful. I explained several times that we had to pre-pack for our trip next weekend. 5 or 6 times, I reiterated that our granddaughter is getting married in Fresno and that we need to leave on Friday. He asked a few questions but did not get the concept as I started to get out socks, ties, etc. He got very agitated and at one point said, "Excuse me, why are you in Ada's closet?"
"I am Ada."
"No, you're not. How am I going to explain to Ada that you are packing clothes from her closet?"
"I am Ada. Who do you think I am?"
With a slightly sheepish look, he responded, "You are my wife." When I inquired about my name, he looked right at me and said the name of his third wife "AnnaMaria."
I laughed as that was a new one. Normally, he thinks I am Kurla (wife #2) or his daughter Heather. I explained the order of the marriages and the time frame of divorces and our marriage of 29 years. He looked at me as if I had horns.
He was lying on the bed and seemed very sleepy. I suggested a nap. He agreed and I stretched on the bed beside him. He reached over and hugged my nose which is a long standing touch of endearment that we have shared. Since this was such a familiar touch, I asked if he knew who I was. He said that I was Ada. When asked of our relationship he said, "You are somebody from the past but I'm not sure." This week, Heather posted a picture of herself, her Mom (Kurla) and her daughter, Samantha. I showed him and explained that at the wedding, he may really get confused because we will all be there....in one room. He said that situation should be interesting. I dropped the subject and we slept.
I awoke before him and started dinner. He came to the kitchen and I could tell by his look and greeting that he was back to "normal". Curiosity had me. "Honey, can you tell me my name and our relationship?"
"You are Ada Mae and you are my wife." I finished the sentence with "the best wife of your life." He smiled and said "Of course!"
As I reflected over the earlier scenario, I felt a twinge of sadness for the memories we have shared, as I know many of them are in his head but confused with other things. At least I still have them and can recall them if he should have moments of wanting to know.
He sat tonight and wrote a note in a Valentine and gave it to me early. The note makes sense and is full of love. However, his once particular and perfect hand writing is starting to morph into a sloppier, larger form. That is another sign....yep, my husband has dementia.
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