jmgoyder

wings and things

Nov 7

Memory Lane!

by jmgoyder

One of the most extraordinary things about my mother’s 80th birthday last week was her gifts to us! To each grandchild she gave beautiful engraved keyrings, and to each of her children – my two brothers and me – she gave a photobook and a CD of photos of our childhood in Canada and Papua New Guinnea. None of us had seen these photos from 30-40 years ago because most of them were on slides; it must have been a hell of a job to get them Cd’ed and it was such a wonderfully unexpected surprise! I keep looking at all of the photos with a mixture of nostalgia and joy; actually I can’t seem to STOP looking at them because I am gobsmacked at how cute I was haha!

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One of the best things is to see Dad again; he isn’t in many of the photos because he must have taken most of them – our wonderful father, Brinsley Lane, who died suddenly when we were still in our teens and Mother was just entering her 40s.

Her gift to us is, of course, ongoing – a rich and vibrant record of a strange, varied and unpredictable childhood that is/was so much like Narnia – magical!

Thanks Mama!

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Nov 6

What a peculiar blog!

by jmgoyder

I have just looked back to discover that tomorrow will mark the third anniversary of this blog. The reason I was looking back was because I want to find, in amongst all of the bird stuff, everything I have written about Anthony and Parkinson’s disease and how he, Ming and I have coped. I thought it might be useful to compile these entries into one document and see if it works as a whole, maybe as a book. Apart from the wonder of all the friendships wrought via blogging, it has also been wonderful to find that I have a record of these past three years because I don’t think I would have remembered otherwise, except as a kind of blurry fog of joys and sorrows – mostly joys.

The birds, and the wings idea, have punctuated the last three years in real and metaphorical ways. Many have now been lost to fox attacks, I have given the emus away, and all three of the original caged birds have been set free. We now have a dozen peafowl, nine guinneafowl, five geese and one duck. The casualties have been heartbreaking and I have decided not to acquire any more due to their vulnerability to fox attacks. Gutsy9 is still thriving and one of the two peachicks hatched last year has survived and I think there will be more chicks soon. I have stopped interfering in the way natural selection works. All of the birds still take bread out of my hand and give me enormous joy (except Godfrey, the gander who likes to bite me!)

But everything changes and now that most of my daytime hours are spent in the nursing home, the birds and I don’t commune as much. Hence, when they hear my voice, they come running AT me with a mixture of love and greed (for wheat) that it is hilarious to watch. And even the birds who are gone continue to live on via Anthony’s hallucinations. Almost every day he points them out through his nursing home window. The outdoor tables and chairs become turkeys; the lawn is speckled with chooks and guinneafowl; and the flowerbeds are parrots. I can see them too.

It seems a rather peculiar blog in its higgledy-piggledyness and some of my entries make me cringe, but hopefully I will be able to draw out enough of the love story to compile a coherent record that might be helpful to others who live with Parkinson’s disease.

Here is a picture of the nearly grown up peachick, still very much attached to his mother (in foreground)!
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Nov 2

“Swallow it!”

by jmgoyder

The swallowing reflex is something that many people with Parkinson’s disease eventually lose and recently it has become more and more difficult for Anthony to swallow food, drink and especially the many pills he has to take. This morning, after a lovely visit from members of the family who had to travel home today, he said his feet hurt, so I asked for panadol and the nurse brought the pills in just before lunch was delivered.

He was given the panadol inside a spoonful of custard and I told the nurse that I would make sure he swallowed them but 15 minutes later, while his lunch got cold, he kept trying to spit them out and, no matter how hard I tried, with little sips of water and gentle persuasion, he just wouldn’t/couldn’t swallow the pills.

I got so angry with him! Furious, and in tears of frustration, I kept saying, “Just swallow, Ants, SWALLOW!” But he just kept sort of munching on the pills and trying to get them out of his mouth. I kept pushing them back into his mouth and giving him sips of water and he kept resisting me and kind of trying to push me away. Afraid that he might choke, I fought back and yelled at him “Swallow it, for God’s sake!” and finally he did after which I fed him his lunch which he swallowed easily – ironic.

It is a long long time since I have expressed anger towards Anthony so I felt disgusted with myself for having done so when I know he can’t help this sort of thing.

Later, once I’d calmed down and he’d said “Sorry Jules,” I asked him why he wouldn’t swallow the pills and he just said, “I thought they might be poison.”

“Why the hell would I poison you? Don’t you trust me?” Yes, my voice was a little shrill.

So I guess we are now entering yet another phase: inability to swallow, paranoia, extreme confusion. I reported the incident to staff so they are aware, and the doctor is going to review Anthony’s meds in order to find something easier to swallow.

For the remainder of the day, after Anthony and I got over our tiff, he slept in his armchair and I held his hand. Every now and then he would drowsily reach out to hold my other hand and whisper, “Sorry, Jules” again.

This previously robust, macho, laughing man of mine – my hero – now reduced, diminished by this rotten disease, and yet still more concerned about me than himself.

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Oct 31

Out of the mouths of babes….

by jmgoyder

This group of quotes for Gma’s birthday book does not need any explanation from me.

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There are more quotes to come of course – from some of the bigger ‘kids’ – but I will save those for tomorrow night after the boat cruise. Suffice it to say that these children’s words, enclosed in her book (and rather brilliantly photographed by me – ha!) have culminated in the most beautiful, mutual, unshakable hug of family.

Oh, I can’t resist: here is Jared’s (Meg’s second grandchild):

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Oct 31

On making the angry doctor nearly smile

by jmgoyder

Doctors do not like to be called into nursing homes on weekends so it was with some trepidation that the nurse-in-charge called the doctor-on-call last Sunday. It was the second day that Anthony had been in bed having suffered two falls. His blood pressure was very low, he was moaning with pain from constipation (a constant problem with Parkinson’s disease) and was extremely incoherent. I was very sad because it gave me a glimpse of what he would look like on his deathbed and I couldn’t seem to get rid of that thought.

After ringing the doctor, the nurse came in and told me he was coming but not happily and had hung up on her, so I was prepared for a bit of unpleasantness and was not disappointed! He strode in with the nurse, on his face a grimace of impatience, and shot questions at us none of which we could answer with any accuracy, which made him even angrier.

“Can he talk?” he snapped at me.
“Yes, well, usually, but not for the last couple of days,” I said. “You could try I guess ….”
“Mr Goyder?” he barked at Anthony.
“Ants, the doctor is asking you a question,” I coaxed.
Anthony looked at the doctor.
“How do you feel?” asked the doctor.
Without the slightest hesitation, Anthony said, “Most of the time, I feel very good, thank you.”
The nurse and I shared a jawdrop, then I cracked up laughing so hard that the doctor’s expression softened.
“You will feel you are here under false pretenses!” I gasped.

A few minutes later, after ordering blood tests and sending a report to our usual doctor (who is never angry!) the angry doctor spoke kindly to me, apologized to the nurse and left, after which she and I shared another laugh.

Anthony then lapsed back into incoherence except to say, “What a lovely man!”

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Oct 24

Colouring in!

by jmgoyder

It was my blog friend, Trisha, who introduced me to the idea of Zentangle drawing. I am hopelessly trying to find her exact post but in the meantime here is the link to her blog:

http://trishapearson.wordpress.com/

Anyway, I got a bit into it because (a) I’m not a bit keen on artsy/crafty stuff so I thought it might be good for me; and (b) I needed something to do with Ants in the nursing home, other than watching television.

So, a few weeks ago, I started to do this drawing thing and LOVED IT! Anthony was a bit patronizing though – “Yes, I used to do this when I was 5” (he is so good at sarcasm!), but I ignored his characteristic bumpetyness and drew another circle.

The colouring in is a bit of a buzz, especially now that I have gone to a proper art shop and bought good quality colored pens. I have now done two pictures for Ants which, if you put them on the far wall, and squint your eyes a bit, look a tiny bit like art.

Obviously this colouring in tendency has leaked into my mother’s 80th birthday book so I hope she won’t be too appalled!

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Oct 10

Rowing the boat!

by jmgoyder

My mother’s 80th birthday is happening soon!
We are all going on a boat cruise lunchy thing in a few weeks.

Over twenty of us –
That’s my two brothers and me,
our spouses,
plus all of our kids,
plus my nephew’s wife,
and my niece’s husband,
one newish grandkid (very special),
the boys’ girlfriends, the girls’ boyfriends,
and,
hopefully,
someone who knows how to row the boat!

Idiotically (I am not the least bit art-and-crafty) I suggested putting together a book for ‘Grandma’. I solicited quotes and photos from all grandchildren, very successfully, and now I am covered in glue and ink, and know the difference between a portrait and a landscape photograph.

Ming came into my writing room tonight to find the recent neat-and-tidiness chaotic with the ‘casualty’ photos all over the floor.

Me: I love doing this, Ming! Grandma is going to be thrilled!

Ming (backing away cautiously): Mum, I’m on my way out, okay? I’m not interested in whatever you are doing here because it just looks like a mess to me. Bye!

Anyway, I am having a huge amount of fun with the Grandma book and it is comforting to know that if that boat-cruisy boat falters, Grandma will probably row us back to shore ….

Meg

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Oct 5

Anthony picking olives a few years ago

by jmgoyder

I have had a much more social week than usual with the arrival of my niece’s in-laws from Scotland: activities have included a beach barbecue, a day-long winery tour, a visit to our farm, my great-niece’s first birthday, and then a 21st last night. All delightful! Obviously, this altered the routine with Ants and the volunteering, but not hugely and I didn’t visit him at all on the winery day, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

This week is similarly social, with my best friend, Tony (the priest who married us), coming down for the night and a professor I worked with a couple of years ago, dropping in with his wife on his way back to Perth the next morning. This will slightly alter the routine with Ants once again but since it all worked out okay last week, I figure it should be okay this week too.

I think I blogged about the new routine awhile ago; it’s pretty simple really and was probably staring me in the face for several exhausting months, but I have always had rather slow reflexes – ha! The epiphany arrived at the doorstep of my heart one foggy morning and said two words: “Switch homes”.

It took me ages to understand what Epiph meant but then, bingo, the penny dropped. Instead of bringing Anthony home, either by wheelchair taxi, me, or Ming (visits that became increasingly gruelling, physically, mentally and emotionally, for all three of us), it was gently suggested that I simply make myself at home in the nursing home. Epiph is good like that; she recognizes my lack of pragmatism.

Since then, our marriage, Anthony’s illness, Ming growing up, and all the other bits and pieces of emotion and stuff….

have uncurled raised/dropped fists
have unfurled the residue of grief into a great wide flag of hope

The social stuff is good too because it provides me with conversation material for Ants. He loves it! I feel like I am learning something really important about dementia, or maybe love, not sure yet. A year ago I was struggling with how to cope with the impending boredom of the nursing home. Now, this is my attitude:

“Boredom is the feeling that everything is a waste of time; serenity, that nothing is.”
Thomas Szasz

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Oct 4

Food, glorious food!

by jmgoyder

I bought the slow-cooker, pictured below, several months ago when I thought our electric stove/oven had had the bomb. It wasn’t until our electrician came over to do another job, that it was discovered that the switch to the stove was turned to ‘off’ somehow. Embarrassed, I admitted that I didn’t even know there was an on/off switch.

Anthony used to do all this stuff, I said, meekly.

No charge, said the electrician, wryly.

Anyway, during all of those months when I didn’t think I had a working stove/oven, I learned how to use the slow-cooker and I love it! I used to chop everything finely but now I just throw it all in, uncut, and do the mixing/mashing when I get home. After all, why chop everything at 7am when you can just mash it at 7pm?

I am not quite sure what I am making in that wonderful slow-cooker but here is what I threw in:

Minced beef
Wild garlic + leaves
Onions, chives, lemon grass
5 red and 2 green chillis
Turmeric and ginger roots
Masses of fresh parley and coriander leaves
A cup of red wine
A few cups of stock
Salt and pepper
Lemon juice

In case it isn’t already obvious, one of the things I love about this kind of cooking is that you can be really creative, and experimental, because whatever you are cooking is going to take so long that you can easily get up at 2am and check for flavor. Sometimes the dish needs more salt; sometimes a bit of honey (if it’s a strong curry).

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Happy birthday to my beautiful great niece, N, and to my friend, M – nice partying with you!

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Oct 1

Flowers, food and fun

by jmgoyder

Flowers:
It is so interesting that the avocado tree has unreachable fruit at its top, but is blossoming down below. The very last edible avocado is in the refrigerator, ready to take to Ants tomorrow (he loves them!)

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I’d been bringing various camellias, roses and even bottle brush into the nursing home but the other day I thought I may as well tear off a whole branch of avocado blossoms and arrange them in Ants’ room. This whole flower thing is kind of weird because I really don’t have a clue about this garden Anthony established all those decades ago and have only begun to take a bit of an interest now because, well, why not! Also, every time I bring Ants flowers he gets a thrill out of it. I found two stray roses yesterday and their scent was fantastic.

Food:
Ages ago, I began taking an interest in cooking more interestingly, partly in order to be able to provide Ants with cakey stuff (he has a sweet tooth), partly in order to provide Ming with sustenance (he has a fussy tooth) and, more recently, because I have become fascinated by, and dedicated to, preparing food from scratch. It’s really time-consuming to chop or grind the herbs, roots, chilis etc. but what a great feeling/taste, and how nostalgic it makes me for my early days on this farm when Gar (Anthony’s mother) would point me in the right direction of the flour tin with her walking stick; teach me how to make white sauce; show me (with Anthony’s help – probably our first vaguely romantic moment!) how to pluck a duck and prepare for roasting.

Okay so my latest food discovery is stone-age bread. I just typed this into google out of curiosity and was a bit surprised to find there were already so many recipes. I tried the first one and bingo – beautiful! I would have taken a photo of my own successful loaf of bread but I’ve already eaten it! I will refine the recipe and post soon (yeah, I can hear the non-sighs of anticipation ha!)

Fun:
Before Anthony became so ill with Parkinson’s disease etc., we had a relationship that was full of banter, teasing, laughter, fun. Some of the fun stuff was simply giving cheek so, today, when Ants tried to say something to me in his newishly quiet, croaky, soft voice, I took him by the shoulders (gently!) and said “SPEAK UP, ANTS, CLEAR YOUR THROAT, STOP BEING SO FEEBLE!” Then I punched him lightly in the shoulder and, yeeha! I was the recipient of one of his gradual, wonderful smiles – kind of like sunrise in the mist, bit by bit by bit.

[Note to other bloggers: I hope you know I am reading your posts but just no time atm to comment etc. x]

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