Just checking in halfway through my blogbreak. Thanks to all for comments on last few posts – I really appreciate it and had intended to reply, sorry!
I’ve temporarily unsubscribed from most blogs to give myself a break, but will get back eventually I hope.
It’s just that I am so sad at the moment, about Anthony, because of how fast the dementia is happening now.
Ming, Gutsy9 and I are all fine which somehow seems wrong. I miss Anthony so much.
In 1995, I got a part-time job at the local university lecturing in creative writing.
In 1995, Anthony was diagnosed with kidney cancer and had his left kidney removed
In 1995, Ming turned one, was baptised, went from crawling to running, learned how to clean his teeth, got into the vroom of things, slept peacefully, learned how to wash a car, yell HURRAY, climb mountains and open his own Christmas presents.
But, of the three of us, I am the only one who remembers any of this now because Ants is too old and Ming was too young.
I finally figured out how to use my little scanner, so now I can get a photobook made for Ants. Here are a few of my favourites.
Until recently, Anthony’s level of distress was due to an entirely rational sense of homesickness. Recently, however, it has been exacerbated by an irrational fear that I no longer love him.
Today he forgot that he saw me yesterday (it’s the first time this has happened), so he was really upset. I had to remind him about yesterday and then he was apologetic for having forgotten.
At this stage of his dementia Anthony can fluctuate between lucid and not lucid in the space of a single sentence. He frequently hallucinates various animals (usually calves), gropes for the right word constantly, and is exhibiting several behaviours that are totally out of character.
I hesitate to say this but I’m beginning to think that full-blown dementia would be better than this limboland. It’s not that any of the above shocks or upsets me too much because I nursed people with dementia for years, so I know what to expect.
The thing that is most distressing for me is Anthony’s distress and the fact that I have never ever known him to be so sad until now. And that is my sad too.
For some time now Anthony has had diffculty with his phone at the nursing lodge. He forgot how to use it to ring me ages ago, but now it seems he has also forgotten how to answer it.
I couldn’t get into town to see him today and I nearly went mad tonight, trying his phone. Usually I ring the nursing staff to help him answer his phone and they are wonderful, but I thought I’d give them a break tonight.
Ming and I will see Ants tomorrow and that’s great but I worry so much about Ants being cold. He feels the cold terribly and winter is approaching.
I’m having a hard time coping, so am taking a break from reading other blogs for a few days so I can figure a few things out – including Anthony’s telephone!
Pure bliss!
Ming has gone to Perth to watch a football game so there is nobody here to say:
What’s for dinner?
Why are you flooding the pens and wasting water on those stupid birds?
I thought we were watching a movie together 20 minutes ago!
I don’t particularly like this dinner – what is it?
What the hell are you crying for – what did I do wrong now?
Don’t touch any of my stuff!
But why do you want me to move out?
You ruined my life yesterday when you said to move out.
No, I don’t want to ring Dad again!
On the other hand….
Mum, you are like my mate.
Do you need a hug?
I’m sorry I didn’t like the dinner – I tried to!
Are you okay?
Can we have a talk about life tonight?
I wish I knew Dad when he was young.
I love you, Mum.
He is my best friend – this Ming – but it’s still rather pleasant to be Mingless for 24 hours – haha!
No matter how honest and revealing a person is, either face-to-face or in a blog, there are certain things that are unsayable, secret, too personal.
There have been a couple of incidents at the nursing lodge lately where Anthony has behaved in a way that is disturbingly out-of-character.
The ungentling of my gentle husband’s brain is causing him to do and say things that are horrible. Taboo.
I am so sick of saying the same thing over and over and over and over and over again.
Today, when I got Anthony home for the afternoon, he asked, for the millionth time if he could stay the night. And for the millionth time, I reminded him that he was in the high care section of the nursing lodge and needed two people to lift him etc.
He looked at me, his eyes hard, and said, “So now I know you don’t care about me anymore.”
It was too much for me to bear and I lost my temper, interrupting this regular refrain with a few minutes of hysterical rage which woke us both up and, thankfully, ended in a mutually apologetic hug.
Then the wheelchair taxi arrived to take Ants home.
Refrain.
I got home from my mother’s place this afternoon thinking I should have stayed another night despite the care package. Then I found that Ming hadn’t eaten much and was down in the dumps. Then I tried to ring Anthony (and am still trying), to tell him I’ll see him tomorrow. Then I discovered that there was no toilet paper.
Now I don’t think the lack of toilet paper usually sends people over the edge, but I experienced 15 minutes of crushing despair until I spotted a quirky gift on my bookcase – Novelty toilet paper!
I cried half of it away but the rest will be used for usual purposes! Now I just wish I could remember who gave this TP to me.
A few years ago, before Anthony became so incapacitated with Parkinson’s disease, we used to go to a restaurant on the beachfront after every doctor’s appointment.
We went to this restaurant after his diabetes diagnosis and we ate apple pie with cream and icecream defiantly.
We went to this restaurant after his liver disease diagnosis and drank a bottle of wine defiantly.
We went to this restaurant after his prostate cancer diagnosis and ordered the banquet deal defiantly.
We went to this restaurant after his Parkinson’s disease diagnosis and decided to try the millionaire’s coffee.
Today I decided to take Ants to this restaurant (which now has new owners). It’s only a few blocks from the nursing lodge, so very convenient, but I was still really nervous because of the unpredictability of PD.
I became even more nervous when Ants had difficulty walking, with his walker thingy, to the car and getting in. But, once his uncooperative feet were in, and his seatbelt was on, I started to feel more optimistic.
And it was a success! Ants was able to use the walker to get into the restaurant and we had an ocean view, a half bottle of wine, some fantastic prawns and scallops, and some bits of conversation. His PDD kept making the conversation weird but every time he said something crazy, I just laughed and squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.
After we’d finished eating, I decided to order his favourite coffee, but the new owners of the restaurant had never heard of a millionaire’s coffee so I had to tell them how! The only trouble is that I couldn’t remember which three liqueurs went into it so I just asked them to use their imaginations.
They did a good job! Well I think they did – my head is still spinning – haha.
jmgoyder 