jmgoyder

wings and things

Whoops!

Oh I am such an idiot!

Okay, this is what happened. I stayed with Anthony later than usual this afternoon because his favourite nephew arrived for a visit and I didn’t want to miss out on that. Then, Anthony’s 5pm dinner arrived as the nephew was leaving, so I ended up helping Ants with the soup, mornay and dessert.

Once that was done, I turned the television onto the ABC News channel and put it on mute as I gathered my stuff to leave. Usually I say I am going shopping, or to the chemist and I’ll be back soon but tonight I told the truth.

The only reason I admitted I was going home was because the first thing he said to me when I arrived this afternoon was:

You didn’t come back last night. Where did you go?

Now the trouble with lies is that sometimes you forget them. So I said:

I can’t remember!

Anyway, as I was putting a jumper on him, and getting a blanket for his knees, and putting the two camellias I’d picked into water, and settling myself into a chair next to him, I suddenly remembered. The following is our conversation:

Me: That’s right! I remember now!

Anthony: You always say I’m the forgetful one.

Me: Well I’m getting just as bad. Anyway, I went home to make the pea and ham soup – remember I showed you those massive ham hocks?

Anthony: Where is the soup?

Me: Whoops – I forgot to bring you some. I will tomorrow. Sorry!

Anthony: Well I’ve just come back from U. and I.’s place in Serpentine. [Note: these relatives are deceased, and Serpentine is 160 kms north]

Me: Really? So you must be exhausted!

Anthony: Yes. So I just want you to get some paper animals in the glove box.

Me: Okay – anything else?

Anthony: A couple of paper animals.

Me: Which ones?

Anthony: Well, they should be in the letterbox … but dead.

Me: Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.

Anthony: You might be sitting on them. Get up.

Me [getting up]: Nope – no paper animals.

Anthony: They don’t appear to be there.

Me: You’re hallucinating again, Ants.

Anthony: You always say that.

Me: Can you just shut up so we can watch the series?

Anthony [fussing with the blanket on his knees – a constant thing]: The little chap’s had a good day; he hasn’t moved much.

Me: That’s good. It means he’s happy, Ants!

So the fragments of our afternoon conversation ranged from eloquent to incoherent, nonsensical to logical, silent to noisy etc. and I still haven’t figured out if the ‘little chap’ on Anthony’s knee is baby Ming or a dog!

All in all, it was a great afternoon but, just as I was leaving, Anthony suddenly became agitated.

Anthony: But you can’t leave me here. We need to be in the same bed.

Me: I have to go home to rescue the pea soup and I’ll come back tomorrow morning.

Anthony: Why can’t you stay here with me tonight? I don’t know this place! I’ve only ever stayed here once before and it’s where J. and P. got married.

Me [sternly]: Listen, Ants, you are in a nursing home and you are sleeping here tonight and I am going home but will be back tomorrow morning.

Anthony: No!

At this point one of the wonderful carers, having overheard our conversation from an adjacent room, came into Anthony’s room to reassure him and I gave him a millionth kiss and left.

It’s the first time for ages that I have felt distressed driving home. No tears but just distressed that he was distressed.

So an hour ago I rang the nursing home and the nurse-in-charge told me that he had just been settled into bed but she would go and check again. She is, by far, Anthony’s favourite and, when he was upset and confused earlier he actually asked for her by name, describing her as the nice one in the red shirt. She has even been nicknamed his ‘girlfriend’.

Anyway, I’ve now decided to never ever tell Ants that I am going home – never! I will go back to saying things like:

Just going to the chemist to get toothpaste; what kind of chocolate do you feel like; do you want beer? etc. AND: I won’t be long – see you soon….

No more whoopsies!

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Home is where the humour is!

After posting that boring boredom post yesterday, and in thinking about writing more seriously again, I made a couple of simple decisions.

1. Persevere with the idea of writing a book about Parkinson’s Disease (utilising various blogposts over the last few years), with the working title of Anthony’s Smile; and

2. Concentrate on blogging my conversations with Anthony, not just the current ones but the past ones. I have already blogged some of these but I have also made notes over the years so I will have to transcribe these.

The reason I want to write this book (which has almost written itself via my blog) is mostly to demystify the nursing home experience – to make it less frightening for both relatives and prospective residents.

Of course there are other reasons to write this book, i.e. I wish I’d known about the UN-stereotypical symptoms of impending Parkinson’s Disease (inability to blink, blank face, constipation, hallucinations, strange behaviours, weird wordage etc. etc.) before we got Anthony’s diagnosis all those years ago.

So my focus over the next few weeks will be on dialogue – mostly Anthony’s and mine with a bit of Ming thrown in. I think that these dialogues are an important way of recording/remembering all of the words that are so easily forgotten, or dismissed as nonsense.

For example:

Me: Ants, you’re so skinny! (patting his absence of a tummy). Are you doing sit-ups?

Anthony: Yes (looking at me in a sneaky way).

Me: So, when exactly do you do these sit-ups?

Anthony: When they need doing.

He makes me laugh more than he makes me cry, this fantastically funny husband of mine!

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Boredom

When Ming was little he only once said, “Muuuuummmmm – I’m booooored!” because I immediately retorted, “The only children who ever get bored are booooooring themselves!” From that moment, he became more self-sufficient.

Okay, the above is a summary of several similar conversations with little Ming not long after I stopped being interested in finding the missing lego pieces in a Harry Potter castle or two.

Today, in the nursing home, helping Ants with his lunch, watching the television series, my mother’s visit – the almost clockwork regularity of this routine – struck me….

I recently read an article about how boredom can be a good thing, that it allows a person to sit back and re-perceive things and embrace the boredom as a kind of contentment. I do understand this because I have experienced it. And with Ants these hours are valuable time together as he gets more and more incapacitated.

This whole acceptance thing has been wonderful for all of us but I’m beginning to realise that I have also stunned myself with a kind of boredom. And, if boredom = boring, then I am guilty.

I will still spend many hours per day with Ants, but am now excited about writing more seriously; I’ve even planned a schedule of writing ….

No way will I let that boredom thing creep in.

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Sleep-chuckling

This afternoon I went into town to see Anthony. By the time I’d done bits and pieces of paperwork and housework, I almost didn’t go in after all. I didn’t feel like going in, but then the guilt got to me.

I arrived later in the afternoon than usual after doing a couple of in-town errands. Anthony was asleep in his armchair so I put a blanket on his knees, made sure the heater was on, put the television on mute and sat down next to him.

Usually Ants wakes up when he hears my voice or anybody’s voice but this afternoon he was in slumber mode and, no matter how much noise I made, he didn’t wake up! Nurses came and went, and he even swallowed his 4pm pills semi-asleep, then I had to talk on my phone for ages, then Ming came in after knocking off, then a couple of the nurses came back for a chat, other staff came in to change towels in the bathroom, a cup of tea was brought in ….

…. And throughout these couple of hours I watched (on and off) our latest television series with my left hand inside Anthony’s shirt collar. But he still didn’t wake up!

I wanted to tell him so many things: how the camellias are thriving (I’ve been taking little flowerettes in lately); that Ming has a new friend; that I’ll bring more chocolate tomorrow; that I missed him so much that looking at photos of our years before Parkinson’s sometimes made me cry; and how he was, to me and to Ming, the best example of a good father and husband.

Of course I have poured out these various profundities to Ants before but today he was so unwakeably asleep that I had to pour all of that stupid emotional stuff into the toilet paper in his bathroom.

On resuming my position by Anthony’s side, my hand back inside his collar, I wiped his chin then saw that he was smiling in his sleep. Once again I tried to wake him gently but it wasn’t possible to get much more than a few blinks and then he was asleep again.

Then, all of a sudden, Anthony began to chuckle in his sleep. Of course I have seen this before with him but only occasionally. This time, the chuckling went on and on, for well over an hour! It was amazing and beautiful and I am so glad I was there to witness this.

Tomorrow, I will pick camellias to take in, then I will tease him about his sleep-chuckling haha!

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Happy hours

Anthony’s increasing ability to smile again continues to flabbergast me. This afternoon, I arrived at the nursing home and, on entering his room, saw that two of our best friends (a husband, F, and wife, J) were already there. J whispered to me that Anthony’s face always lights up when I come into the room. They are frequent visitors to Anthony, so they often see this but the fact that J said this to me really made my day.

J has a sense of humour that is slicingly clever and she has this ability to get straight to the point with a unique mixture of irony and kindness. When she invited Anthony to the movie she and F were going to see – about euthanasia – Anthony politely declined and I guffawed.

F (an old school friend of Anthony’s) constantly teases him about past girlfriends but this afternoon Anthony managed to eke out a couple of eloquent retorts and the mutual banter was a delight. I poured a couple of small glasses of wine (it’s Sunday!) then F and J left to go and see the euthanasia movie.

It was such a happy hour and I am so grateful for these friends who help to normalise the situation. J told me that when they arrived and asked Anthony where I was he told them I was hanging out the washing! I think this means that perhaps my presence in his room every afternoon (well, mostly) explains my absence in the mornings and nights. It is possible that he thinks I am doing chores, cooking dinner, possibly even gardening!

Now that I am over the whole tragedy-of-husband-going-into-nursing home, and now that Anthony, too, accepts the status quo and often thinks we are at home anyway, our afternoons are happy.

I usually sit on the side of Anthony’s armchair and we watch another episode of whatever television series I’ve acquired; he often sleeps the afternoon away; I sometimes socialise with the staff and other residents; cups of tea + cake are delivered; his pills are dispersed by his favourite nurse, D, who Ants calls his girlfriend.

When I was unwell last week my wonderful mother substituted for me and sat next to Anthony in his room, knitting, until he suddenly said “Are you going yet?” Hilarious.

And Dina, my decluttering friend, visited Ants on a day when she and I were supposed to be having brunch (but I was still bilious). What an incredibly kind person to do this for me!

The funniest of these many happy hours, though, are Ming’s visits to Anthony. Big, loud and assertive, he goes into Anthony’s room and, if Ants is asleep in his chair, Ming doesn’t wake him. But if Anthony is awake, Ming will lie on the bed and they will have a chat. It’s probably quite alarming for staff to come into Anthony’s room and see this great big hairy-legged boy-man-creature lying on Anthony’s bed with no care whatsoever about protocol or the cleanliness of linen.

Sometimes, when Ming’s and my visits to Anthony coincide, there is friction between Ming and me. I’m not quite sure why this is but he seems to relate better to Ants when I’m not there. And vice versa. Nevertheless, Anthony’s pride in Ming is overwhelmingly evident and he often ‘sees’ Ming in the corner of the room (hallucinations).

I’ve begun to appreciate every single hour, especially the happy ones. These hours more than make up for the desolate ones.

[Note to blogger friends: I am a bit preoccupied with above so haven’t been reading – sorry]

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The beautiful people

I remember, a couple of years ago, when it was all new and frightening, dropping into the nursing home to see Anthony one day and ….

…. there were all of these staff at the desk, probably having handover, and, despite my fear and grief, their smiles to me gave me the confidence to shout out “Ah, it’s the beautiful people!”

That was probably the first mutual laugh and I think, since then, the connection between staff, Ants and me has been a lovely thing. I have worried from time to time that my constant presence in the afternoons might interrupt the routine, and it probably does, but the staff are all so fond of us now (yay!) that, hopefully, I’m not in the way too much.

It is an enormous comfort to me that various staff members will come into Anthony’s room and visit him/us just because they want to and because they like him.

These are the most beautiful people in the whole wide world!

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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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‘Thunking’

IMG_4655Thinking versus thunking (I like thunking!)

3.10am: There is something quite exciting about hopping out of bed at 3am, wide awake, dashing to my writing room and switching on the computer and, aha, engaging with various friends. It seems somehow illicit to be up and about, drinking coffee while the sky is still black night, listening to absolute silence, reading thousands of words, smiling at photos on my screen ….

4.03am: Me chuckling that it is now just after 4am and nobody is going to tell me to go to bed.

4.38am: Ming’s favourite phrase is “Do what you want to do!” This type of 21-year-old wisdom sustains and motivates me whenever I am stuck. I feel grateful for this wonderful son of ours who, having recovered from two spinal surgeries, his father’s transition from home to nursing home, the car accident that injured so many and was his fault ….

For all of the above reasons I prefer to thunk rather than think because too much thinking can do your head in whereas thunking allows you to step aside. It might be just a tiny step (an ‘i’ to a ‘u’) but it makes a hell of a difference!

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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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