jmgoyder

wings and things

Sunday afternoon at the nursing home ….

Last Sunday I began a ritual that I continued today, and will keep doing every Sunday now that I know it ‘works’. I will bring a bottle of really lovely wine in and Anthony and I will partake in sipping thimble-sized servings in massive glasses.

As I have to drive 15 kms home and Anthony can no longer drink a whole bottle of brandy in one sitting anymore (I’m kidding) neither of us can drink very much of course!

Nevertheless the reality of opening the wine and pouring it into glasses brought from home, toasting each other, exchanging memories of parties from long ago … all of this makes Sunday afternoons fantastic.

At one point, this afternoon ….

Me: Why are you looking at me like that?

Anthony: You look particularly beautiful today.

Me: What did you say?

Anthony: Your hair is brushed.

Me: ARGHHHH! What do you think of the wine?

Anthony: Not bad.

Me: Why can’t you ever say ‘it’s wonderful!’ instead of ‘not bad’!

Anthony: It’s wonderful.

Me: Okay, let’s clink glasses for a toast – to you and me, Ants. I love you and you love me and that’s the main thing.

Anthony: Can you just get the animals off the table first?

Me: It’s not a table; it’s your bed and you’re hallucinating!

Anthony: You always say that!

Me: It’s part of your Parkinson’s disease – please don’t worry about it. When you see all of those dogs and cats and calves in the room, try to remember that they are not really there and that you are hallucinating.

Anthony: So how about this baby?

Me: What baby?

Anthony: This one [pointing to his lap].

Me: Okay, Ants, is it Ming?

Anthony: No. Ming isn’t a baby any more.

Me: So who is the baby?

Anthony: I don’t know.

I am astounded that, ever since our niece gave birth to her first baby several weeks ago, Anthony keeps ‘seeing’ babies on his lap. It is so so so weird! But it’s also rather magical and wonderful that somehow Anthony’s PD brain has registered this new addition to the family.

Sunday afternoon at the nursing home; a delightful experience!

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Goodbye to a special person

This post is to say goodbye and thank you to A, a wonderful carer at the nursing home. His last day is Sunday and I am trying to think of a gift to give him. He had such a wonderful rapport with residents, including Anthony of course who he called ‘Tones’. I/we will miss him so much.

It is so hard when people, who Anthony and I have gotten to know so well, disappear, move away, get different jobs, go to greener pastures etc.

A was a particularly special person with a fantastic sense of humour and he shocked me once by saying I was the exact same age as his mother!

When I was working in the dementia cottage, A would come to do the medications and several of the women would be enthralled by his presence.

Anyway, A, I wish you and yours a huge amount of luck and love and thank you, from the bottom to top of my heart, for your kindness to Anthony and me.

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Nonsense!

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Not long after one of Anthony’s nephews had visited us the other day (at the nursing home), during which we all shared a lucid conversation, Ants suddenly said ….

Anthony: I need a dressmaker.

Me: WHAT?

Anthony: A dressmaker. I want to make a dress.

Me: But I don’t wear dresses! I’d rather eat a raw egg than wear a dress! I HATE dresses!

Anthony: Not for you.

Me: So who do you want to make a dress for?

Anthony: For Stuart [this is not the real name of the nephew].

Me: Why the hell would Stuart want a dress?

Anthony: I just want to make him one.

Me: Anthony, are you kidding around or are you really crazy?

Anthony: Just find me a dressmaker, Jules.

Me: Okay, if you say so.

By then I could no longer contain my laughter at the image of Stuart in a dress that Anthony had somehow made for him. I hugged Anthony tight, guffawing, then told him I still loved him even though he was stark, raving mad – and he gave me one of his wonderful smiles.

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This is, by far, the most bizarre conversation I have ever had with Anthony because I couldn’t find a reference point for it. I am wondering today if it could be the outfits worn by the cast of The Good Wife (a series we are watching), but that still wouldn’t explain why Anthony would want to make a dress for his nephew!

One of the things I have decided to stop doing, though, is to try to make sense of nonsense. And I am not being disparaging of Anthony when I say that he often talks nonsense because this is a fact.

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Okay so I tease him a bit when he talks nonsense but that’s all part of the fun really. In fact, I actually find our nonsense conversations absolutely fascinating and much more pleasant than these …..

Anthony: When are you taking me home?

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Me: I can’t. You’re too heavy. Stop asking me to do the impossible.

Anthony: I’m sorry I’m such a disaster.

Me: You’re not a disaster. You have Parkinson’s disease.

Now those no-nonsense conversations are the ones that are heartbreaking.

I prefer nonsense!

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Note: I took a whole lot of photos yesterday to show Anthony today in the hope that he will feel as if he has been home.

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Nursing home friendships

One of the most beautiful things about being with Anthony in the afternoons – in his nursing home room – is the easy friendships with various staff.

These various staff have various roles, of course: domestic duties, carer duties, medication duties, managerial duties, catering/cooking duties, OT duties, volunteer duties, supervisory/teaching duties, orientation duties, and many, many more. When any staff member (regardless of role) drops in – I always either ‘pause’ or ‘mute’ the TV. This creates a little bit of silence, just enough to enable an interaction that will make Anthony smile. This is because he was always gregarious, and loud, and the life of the party, and nobody will ever know this unless I tell them. Many of the staff now understand how a bit of banter with Anthony can rekindle a semblance of the BIG personality out of the tinyness of who he is now (quiet and thin). They haven’t just discovered this via me, they have also discovered it via him.

There are certain staff that can, in a few seconds, rustle him out his silence, conjure the smile, make him feel valued, but of course they are always rushed, doing their own jobs and not wanting to appear to be wasting time. Recently, due to the rush of work, two of the carers opted to come and visit Anthony on their days off so they could spend more time with him – I was astounded by their generosity, and so grateful!

But, even during work hours, those quick visits are invaluable and, whenever I am there too, staff will often drop in and have a chat with us. I think this is wonderful! Whenever any of the staff drop in to simply say hello to Anthony and me – to chat, gossip, joke, hug – I can come home with the knowledge that he is well cared for and, more importantly in a way, cared about.

Here’s an idea: what if every single staff member were allocated half an hour per day to spend a bit more time with a resident? This could be used in five-minute increments so that staff could linger a bit in various residents’ rooms just for a chat, instead of having to rush off to their various duties. One of the chefs at the nursing home dropped in to Anthony’s room the other day to admire the artificial roses that she thought were real.

Me: Haven’t you noticed these before?
Chef: Yes, but I never have time! They look so real!

We had a hurried conversation and she zipped off back to the kitchen. I wanted to give her a massive hug but I restrained myself as I seem to have become overly-huggy lately. A bit later in the afternoon:

Anthony: Your roses are a hit.
Me: Yes! Anthony: But I planted them. Give that lady a cutting. Me: Yes.

I wish that I could name the various staff who have become friends of ours, those people who, in the line of duty, don’t mind detouring in order to offer kindness and friendship. But I respect their privacy so all I can do here is to say thank you to them, every single one of them, because they will know who they are.

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Paro: the robotic ‘pet’

It’s around a year since I became aware that staff at Anthony’s nursing home were raising money to buy an electronic pet to be shared amongst people with dementia. ‘Paro’, a fluffy, white seal pretend-pet, once its battery is charged, is extraordinarily real, warm and responsive, with blinking eyes and little sighs.

Here is a link to a bit of information about Paro: http://www.theguardian.com/society/2014/jul/08/paro-robot-seal-dementia-patients-nhs-japan

Anyway, a single Paro cost thousands of dollars, so it has taken a lot of incredibly determined fund-raising efforts from staff, donations from relatives, friends, and the board of management, to purchase the first of two Paros for this particular nursing home.

Okay, to begin with I was rather cynical and a bit mystified as to how this robotic ‘pet’ could help, and the expense seemed over the top! But today I visited the dementia cottage and B was in her room cuddling Paro. I asked B if I could see what Paro looked like and she said yes. So I just touched the furry little bundle nestled into B’s collarbone and Paro did a little squeal of joy and its eyes looked at me. I wasn’t prepared for this so I did a little squeal of shock and B laughed then cuddled the real warmth of Paro against her chest before dismissing me.

One of the staff told me today that when one of the women in the dementia cottage was in tears, Paro was given to her and she immediately calmed down.

Like doll therapy, Paro, the robotic seal, is probably a controversial dementia-care tool/issue, and it/he/she is certainly incredibly expensive. Also, for those who are unfamiliar with all of the different categories of dementia, the presence of a Paro might seems utterly weird.

But, for those of us who don’t have dementia, and who worry about the dignity and comfort of our loved ones who do have dementia, just suspend your disbelief for a moment.

It is – this Paro – a beautiful invention.

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Sundown

When the day begins to close its curtains on the sun, people with advanced dementia often become restless. This kind of agitation is called ‘Sundowner syndrome’ and I’ve written about it before.

Anthony is definitely affected by the syndrome and, by around 4pm, he is quietly distressed and confused. I am adapting as well as I can to the difference between 11am and 5pm; i.e. at 11am Ants is lucid and able to express himself verbally, but by 3pm he sometimes thinks that the television show (at the moment Doc Martin) is actually happening in real life, and by 4pm he begins to descend into such a state of confusion that when I say, “Okay I’m off to get some wine”, he just replies, “Don’t be too long, Jules!”

The domestic and care staff at this nursing home are so wonderful and many have become friends; they all know that it is best to say to Anthony that ‘Jules will be back soon’.

Today I bumped into the wife of a beautiful man who, before he died a year ago, was next door to Anthony. She is elderly too and using a walking frame. Let’s call her Trudy.

Trudy: So how is your husband?

Me: Very confused now … well, you know how it is.

Trudy: You wonder what they are really thinking don’t you.

Me: Yes. You must miss him so much.

Trudy: It’s a year now.

And her eyes filled up.

Anthony and I are so lucky to have each other and he is luckier than most because he has a younger wife who is determined to ensure he is cared for. It is a bit of a unique situation because most of the residents’ spouses are either deceased or struggling with their own health challenges.

When I visited a totally lucid 95-year-old woman today, she expressed so much concern about her 70-ish son that I felt a bit awestruck by her courage and compassion.

Jane: He had to have a shoulder operation.

Me: So when will he be back?

Jane: So what’s your name again?

Me: Julie – you know, my husband is two rooms down. How’s your pain?

Jane: It’s not the pain, I just feel so exhausted all the time as if I’ve been run over by something.

Me: Like a truck?

MUTUAL LAUGHTER

I want to keep writing about this ongoing story of dementia; I want to critique the various interventions that are in place; but I also just want to BE with Ants.

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Day off

I decided to take a day off from visiting Anthony so just texted Ming to visit after work and he texted “Sure” – brilliant!

Instead I have been catching up with laundry and housework and further decluttering. It’s astounding how making myself accountable to Dina is so effective!

The weather is winter warm so at one point I took off my jacket and …
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Well at least it wasn’t a cockroach!

My feeding of wheat to the peafowl and guinnea fowl is deliberately haphazard because there is plenty of ‘food’ for them without the wheat and I don’t like them getting too dependent. Nevertheless as soon as they hear the back door open, they start running towards me – it’s so funny.
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Then there is quite a bit of competition as to who gets to eat first.
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Yes, I know she looks like Gutsy but she isn’t.

After they’ve eaten their fill, they bask in the winter sunshine.
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I’m a bit rusty with the photography but wanted to take a few new photos to show the women I’m visiting in the nursing home, three of whom are not in the dementia cottage. Yesterday I visited Gertrude (not her real name) who has only recently become a resident. She has Parkinson’s disease too and she was commiserating with me about Anthony who she said was “so young!” I guess 79-year-old people do seem young to 90-year-old people! At one point we discussed the pros and cons of diseases:

Gertrude: Tell me, which do you think is worse – Parkinson’s disease or that other one? (She pointed to her head)

Me: You mean Alzheimer’s disease?

Gertrude: Yes.

Me: Well Anthony has both now so I’m not sure ….

Gertrude: Both? This isn’t fair for him.

Me: Well it’s not Alzheimer’s exactly; it’s dementia caused by his kind of Parkinson’s disease.

Gertrude: I don’t have that.

Me: No, I can see that! You don’t have the shaking thing either and Anthony is the same.

Gertrude: I’m improving and sitting in this chair is so much better than lying in that bed.

Me: Do you have pain?

Gertrude: Just a bit of arthritis. Nothing much.

Me: I’m so glad. Anthony doesn’t have pain either – such a blessing.

We exchanged a smile and a hug and I went back to Anthony’s room which is in a different section.

Well I better get back to finishing the jobs I need to list as “done” for my email to Dina tonight!

22 Comments »

Dina

I wrote about Dina from Chaos to Clear in previous posts, describing how this wonder woman helped me to declutter and reorganise the spaces inside and outside this house. The process was a twice-a-week visit from Dina, over a period of several months. She/we even tackled the sheds despite the possible presence of asbestos.

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During this process, Dina and I became friends. She visited Anthony with me (where we sorted a huge box of old photos and another box of old paperwork), and she even visited Anthony last week when I was away in Perth!

Dina also supported me in a face-to-face meeting with the managers at the nursing home about my desire to continue to visit various residents despite having resigned. Her presence at this meeting ensured that permission would be granted, and gave me the confidence to state that I was already a family friend of many of the residents.

Anyway, this week I suddenly found myself a bit overwhelmed again with a new accumulation of unopened mail, the dregs of clutter I was supposed to have eradicated/given away, and Ming’s stuff here and there untidying my newly tidy house. So I emailed Dina asking her to come back and help with these last jobs.

Then – the next morning – before Dina even had a chance to reply, I emailed her again to retract my request and that I could do it by myself but I needed to be accountable to someone.

Dina emailed me back saying yes and to just imagine she was there looking over my shoulder. So for two days now, I have been reporting back to her about what I’ve done, and she has been encouraging me (all of this via email). This kind of accountability has worked wonders in terms of motivation!

Depression (yes, I have it) sometimes means that the person afflicted wastes days worrying, and nights dreaming, about tasks that only take an hour or so. The fear of those tasks is, of course, irrational, but when you are in the throes of depression and/or anxiety, even the simplest of tasks can be overwhelming.

I haven’t admitted to many, including Dina, that I battle with depression but I’m sure she realises and I so appreciate her kindness and patience with me. And her incredible support beyond the call of duty!

Who would have known that when I simply googled “chaos” I would find such a beautiful friend. Thanks, Dina.

37 Comments »

“Illness separated”

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Yesterday I went to see the people who help people like me to access employment and/or volunteer opportunities. I thought it was about time I got out of my lady-of-leisure mode since resigning from my job at the nursing home several weeks ago.

The woman I spoke to (I will call her Sue) pulled up my records and I misheard her saying that Anthony and I were separated.

Me: No, no, we aren’t separated!
Sue: Illness separated?
Me: Oh, yes, I see. He’s in a nursing home.

Anyway, Sue was very helpful and asked me to come back today with various bits of paperwork that would help to get me back ‘into the system’.

Even though the phrase “illness separated” isn’t new to me, I hadn’t heard it for a long time so it shook me up a bit. Of course there is no other way to describe our situation in terms of the red tape but it still sounds weird, especially the “separated” bit. Oh well.

The views from Anthony’s nursing home window sometimes look uncannily like home and yesterday he ‘saw’ his nephew milking the cows outside and wanted to help. I looked out the window and tried to see what he was seeing (his hallucinations are, thankfully, happy ones mostly).

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Me: It’s okay, Ants, he’s just about finished milking.
Anthony: What about the fences?
Me: Ming’s taking care of all that.
Anthony: How much money do we have in the bank?
Me: Lots, thousands!
Anthony: Okay.

I think we might fall into the category of “illness inseparable” now but that wouldn’t tick the boxes ha!

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Attraction

Attraction is a weird thing because, even though this ‘pull’ is usually to do with the romantic urges of the young, it still has a very powerful influence on the confused emotions of the aged.

Many of the ten women in the dementia house ‘see’ staff and/or other residents as men, possibly because most of us have short hair. So there are often small cries or salutations to ‘Joe’ or ‘Fred’ or ‘Henry’ and we (staff) have to loom close to cover the invisibility of those absent presences. There is no strict rule about how to answer the question of ‘where is Richard?’ but most of us go with the flow and say that he will be back soon.

The doll thing used to give me the horrors because it seemed so totally odd, even patronizing, but I have changed my mind now due to the need many of these beautiful women have – just to hold a baby again.

Attraction: a weird and wonderful experience of opposites, failings, clumsy sentences, beautiful, unusual, extraordinary human beings but mostly a desire to know that interesting person better.

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