jmgoyder

wings and things

Special K

‘Special K’ is the nickname I have chosen to give my 13-year-old, 6’2″ nephew, not just for the sake of his privacy, but also because he is especially special.

This is a difficult post to write but here goes: Special K was one of the five children injured in a car accident in which Ming was the driver … a bit over two years ago.

Special K was the only one thrown out of Ming’s ute, his leg was broken badly, and he was subsequently emergency-helicoptered to Perth with his father (my youngest brother). And yet this brave and beautiful boy, instead of screaming, helped everyone to calm down. I don’t know how he did this because I wasn’t there; I was at the other end of a suddenly-silent telephone call in which Ming said, “Mum, I’ve had an accident.”

Fast forward to now and all of the children have recovered physically except for Special K who needs an operation to remove the plate from his leg. He might even need another smaller plate inserted; I don’t know.

Ming and I were talking about life and death yesterday and he admitted that he thinks about the accident every single day.

Me: But you were so philosophical at the time, Ming! You kept reminding me that nobody died!

Ming: You were a mess, Mum.

I think the fact that Special K has to have an operation on his injured leg has thrown me back to that dreadful night and reminded me of how resilience works. IMG_0240

As you can see from the photo, Special K is almost as gorgeous as our brand new 007!

[This post is for you, Jo – mother of all mothers!]

34 Comments »

Another day with Anthony

After the fright of the other day when Ants was unconscious for so many hours (much longer than usual), I now realise that my being there every day is important. (Confession: I have been taking ‘days off’ here and there recently).

The first interesting thing about this is that, according to staff, relatives, and visitors, if I am not there, Anthony asks for me and is sometimes fretful.

The second interesting thing about this is the whole time warp thing: i.e. I rush in to see Ants on my way to getting the car serviced, seeing whether we have won lotto, buying chick starter etc. so it’s a very brief visit. And he always knows that I will be back soon, even when I don’t come back that day/night. Five minutes can equate to-and-fro with five hours – or vice versa.

The third interesting thing about this is Anthony’s daily mention of Ming. He never does this in a needy way; he is just always very curious and loves seeing photos of Ming, including Ming’s latest Halloween antics/costume at the restaurant where he works. These photos (as well as the photos of Ming on the walls of Anthony’s nursing home room) are always a buzz – “There he is!” Anthony will sometimes say.

When I told Ming about the frightening day, I cried because I was scared that we might lose Anthony suddenly (which, of course, we will). In telling Ming about my day with Anthony, I realised, and saw, how alike they are: generous, sensitive, gregarious, easy-going, beautiful.

Another day with Anthony…
… enhanced by the fact of Ming.

26 Comments »

Turning corners

Corners on King (https://www.facebook.com/cornersonking/?fref=ts) is the restaurant where Ming has worked for just over a year now. It is run by a couple of guys who have very good taste in terms of decor, food, AND picking staff who are willing to dress up for Halloween.

Untitled

Yes, that is Ming on the left in the above photo. I was feeling a bit blah yesterday morning but, when I switched on my newly-switched-on computer, and the internet rushed into my laptop, this photo was the first I saw.

Okay so it took me a few seconds to realise that it was Ming! Other photos followed and I was so overtaken by laughter that the whole blah thing disappeared. I got showered and dressed and drove into town for lunch with this beautiful nurse.

Once I figure out how to save the photos I took of Ming in his nurse’s outfit, as he and I lunched together during his break, I will post them. It was the most glorious hour of halloween hilarity.

And then I went to the nursing home to see Anthony. I arrived at 1pm and left at about 4.30pm. For these hours I was unable to wake him up no matter how much I shook his shoulders, squeezed his hands, shouted (as quietly as I could) ‘Wake up, Ants!’ His nephew visited, a friend visited, the nurse-in-charge came in and checked his blood pressure etc. and reassured me that all was well. I visited the dementia wing a couple of times, showed several staff and residents the photos of Ming, laughed and joked, in the hope that when I returned to Anthony’s room he would be awake. He wasn’t.

The possibility that Anthony might die during – or soon after – one of these TIAs (which seem to be occurring more often), is a corner I have been hesitant to turn into. I was calm yesterday afternoon, then terrified, then resigned. When I got home, Ming was here, and listened to my tearful fears in the same way I listen to his; after all, we both love Anthony.

It is entirely possible that Anthony will live for many more years; it is equally possible that he will die soon. I am not ready for the latter, despite many attempts to BE ready, and I cannot imagine my life without Anthony in it. His room in the nursing home, the staff who have become such wonderful friends, my arm around his shoulder, our long afternoons watching television, bantering, just being together, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes eating and drinking, laughing, looking at photos, doing paperwork, engaging with staff, residents, friends, relatives, visitors … his room has become my refuge, my home.

Ah, but I do have another home – a place where I can eat, drink, write, relax. I can be one of those trendy people who drink short blacks whilst writing articles about the meaning of life and death OR the proud mother of the waiter at Corners on King.

Corners on King (https://www.facebook.com/cornersonking/?fref=ts) is the restaurant where Ming has worked for just over a year now. It is run by a couple of guys who have very good taste in terms of decor, food, AND picking staff who are willing to dress up for Halloween.

53 Comments »

“Handsome man!”

One of the staff at the nursing home always makes a point of greeting Anthony with “Handsome man!” Her wide, glorious smile almost always elicits his own smile and today that was the case.

The simplicity and constancy of this gesture is extremely comforting for me too, because I know she, and so many other staff, care about him. Genuinely.

A recent conversation:

Anthony: They love you. They always ask for you – they say, ‘Where is Julie? Where is your wife?’

Me: No, it’s you they love, not me, silly!

Anthony: No, it’s you! They always want a Julie in the room.

This afternoon, Anthony was extremely lucid until around 4.30pm when he kept ‘seeing’ me on his right hand side, when I was on the left, and vice versa.

Anthony: Where is Julie?

Me: You mean me?

Anthony: Oh there you are!

And that was when she came back – this beautiful staff member – and said those magic words:

Handsome man!

16 Comments »

Full of beans!

A long lost dream is coming true via a tall man with red hair, named Dan, whose business is called Full of Beans. Thanks to him, my vegetable garden is being created! If it weren’t for being invited to join the gardening group I would never have known about him, so I am very grateful. Ironically, I can’t attend tomorrow’s get-together because Dan is coming back to do the planting and I want to learn.

IMG_4852

One of the things that really appeals to me about Full of Beans is that it provides an ongoing maintenance service for gardening novices like me.

IMG_4854

Okay, so gardening friends far and wide may see this as a kind of cheating on my part (employing someone to make me a vegetable garden) but oh well. I am already crazy about what Dan has begun to create and can hardly contain my excitement.

IMG_4856

Anthony was an avid gardener, despite not having much time, with milking the cows and looking after his mother. Nevertheless almost everything he planted, over 50 years ago, still survives. But he was never the least bit interested in growing vegetables. A couple of years into our marriage, I asked for a vegetable garden but he said there was no room. I argued that there was plenty of room (5 acres around the house!) to no avail.

And, as Ming grew up into an adolescent, he formed the same opinion. It was just a small dream of mine but neither of them would have a bar of it. That’s okay; they just weren’t interested and maybe didn’t realise how much I wanted the vegetable garden. I couldn’t do it by myself so one year my brother came out and dug me a patch and every single gigantic zucchini gave me a thrill. But that went by the wayside in the face of Anthony’s mysterious deterioration in health (we didn’t know about his Parkinson’s then) and the fact that I was working full-time that year.

IMG_4857

Now that Anthony is no longer cognisant of our shared reality; now that Ming is in a fantastic relationship; now that I am learning how to be completely alone, a vegetable garden seems profound.

A long lost dream is coming true via a tall man with red hair, named Dan, whose business is called Full of Beans.

http://www.fullofbeans.com.au

44 Comments »

An argument about Anthony’s smile

You know how I’ve been saying how wonderful it is to see Anthony smiling again, and that I’ve been crediting myself with having made a huge effort to get that smile back? Well, Ming disagrees.

Today was a day off work for Ming so he went to see Anthony and I had a day at home. When he got back he told me that he had Anthony laughing!

Ming: Mum, Dad never lost his smile!

Me: You don’t see him as much so you don’t know – anyway you can always make him smile because you’re Ming!

Ming: So can you and so can anybody!

We left it at that; after all there is no point having an argument about a smile. Nevertheless our brief argument got me thinking about Anthony’s Parkinson’s ‘mask’ (the blank, unblinking, slack-jawed expression on his face, typical of PD). And I realised that the only reason I see this more than anyone else does is probably because, when I visit, I am there for hours so I see the fluctuations.

For example, when staff come into Anthony’s room and banter or flirt with him, he smiles; when friends and relatives visit, he smiles; when Ming and I visit, he smiles. So perhaps I should adjust my thinking to the possibility that it has become easier to conjure/coerce that smile? Maybe Anthony’s smile, and even his laugh, was always there, always ready to be there.

Maybe it was my own smile that went missing for so long.

20 Comments »

‘Doggone!’

I’m sure Blaze was calmer last time I took him into the nursing home to see Anthony. This time, instead of following me in, he ran across the road to a block of flats and wouldn’t come back until I sat down in the parking lot and pretended I had food in my handbag.

Once I’d grabbed him, I carried him into the nursing home to see Ants. I had envisioned a cosy afternoon watching television with Blaze on Anthony’s lap, snoozing. But Anthony was in the dining room and, despite staff being able to get him to shuffle, using his walker, nearly all the way to his room, both a wheelchair and the hoist were eventually required to plonk him into his armchair. In the meantime Blaze and I went out into the back garden area, then visited a couple of the residents, then sat in the foyer.

When Ants was settled, I carried Blaze in and shut the door wishing I’d persevered in trying to find his leash. He was too excited to stay on Ants’ lap for long and kept wandering around curiously and trying to get out. He’d been patted and admired by staff and residents so I guess he wanted a bit more action. I accidentally shot a whole lot of little videos when I was actually trying to take a photo. The following is the only one that doesn’t include my expletive-ridden “Why won’t this camera work?”

Giving up on the camera, I took about 50 photos with my phone, which all look exactly like this one.

20151009_164102
Fake caption: Man’s best friend.
Real caption: Jules, take this bloody dog away!

In light of this remark, and, after Blaze had done several hundred laps of Anthony’s room and bathroom, refused to relax on Anthony’s knees, turned his nose up at the water in the water bowl I’d brought in, I decided it might be time to go.

It was at this point that I realised there was a power failure because I couldn’t get Anthony’s television to cooperate. Then I got a text from my mother asking me if I were coming to my brother’s barbecue. I answered saying I thought the barbecue was the next day and I had Blaze so might only be able to drop in for a quick drink.

Unfortunately, my departure from the nursing home was delayed when I couldn’t find my car keys. It was suggested by several Blaze-loving staff that I could re-trace my steps. So I shut Blaze and Ants into Anthony’s room and went back to the flats where Blaze had first run away. No keys. I then went back to my car and looked underneath. No keys. Back inside the nursing home, I went back to all of the residents I’d visited. No keys. I went outside to the garden. No keys. I went back to Ants’ room to find them both nonplussed as I emptied my handbag of all its contents. No keys. I rang my mother and said, “No keys”.

Finally (an hour and a half after annoying everyone in my vicinity, especially Ants!) I remembered sitting in the foyer with Blaze. With hope hugging my heart, I shut Blaze in with Ants and ventured to the foyer and … there they were!

I said a (b)elated goodbye to all, gave Ants a big kiss, and came home, promising myself I would never take Blaze into the nursing home again without a leash; and never ever again lose my car keys.

Today, the latter has already happened!

33 Comments »

Ago

‘Ago’ is a word I have never thought about until this afternoon. Now, I miss ago.

Lately, I haven’t been able to find the right words to describe Anthony’s condition as it ebbs away. A few days ago, he was so incredibly, cheekily, the Ants from many years ago; the next day he was like someone comatosed; today, as I left, he asked me to get four pieces of steak for tea.

Physically, he and I both cope well. After all, at the moment, Ants has very little physical pain, and me being a young girl (ha!) of 56, driving from farm to town to see him is not a big deal.

One of the many lovely staff at the nursing home sent me this picture of Ants during an animal visit activity. Thank you so much Chloe!

12082822_10153661824317855_758681892_o

This has inspired me to take Blaze (mini-dachshund) in to see Ants tomorrow again. Blaze (son of Inky 2 and Doc 4) will remind us of once ago.

Long
ago.

20 Comments »

Swings and roundabouts

IMG_4806

Yesterday I said, rather blithely, “I refuse to be sad” (about Anthony’s Parkinson’s disease etc.). This morning I realised why it’s possible for me to say this.

Anthony isn’t sad!

It’s as simple as that. Okay, so saddish moments come and go, and the first year of him being in the nursing home was a hell of mutual sorrow. But, in retrospect, it was me shedding most of the tears, not Anthony. In fact often, when I left to come home, he would comfort me.

But it’s now that matters and in-the-now neither of us is sad, which is a bit of a miracle really. The weird irony is that I would not be able to cope with Anthony’s illnesses if it weren’t for his own emotional resilience. I’m not very good at emotional resilience, but Ants is.

People often think that the person in the nursing home is the vulnerable one and that he or she is the one in need of comfort. But sometimes it’s the other way around; it’s the visiting spouse or daughter, or grandson, or friend, who is in need of comfort.

Anthony comforts me!

IMG_4780

17 Comments »

‘Who’s that silly old fool?’

I showed Anthony these photos just after I took them with my phone the other day. They’re a bit blurry and way too close-uppish but I wanted to show him what he looks like sometimes.

The first photo shows his usual facial expression. This is often termed the ‘Parkinson’s mask’ and is due to the fact that the facial muscles aren’t working very well.

20150927_143918

Anthony: Who’s that silly old fool?
Me: It’s you!
Anthony: Ghastly.

So then I tried to make Anthony look me in the eyes by shouting “Look me in the eyes or I’ll bop you!” Ants and I have discovered that this rather dramatic method works well.

20150927_143923

Anthony’s smile, trapped for so long inside that Parkinsonism mask, has, as I’ve said before, begun to occur more and more.

Ming disagrees with me because he says that whenever he enters Anthony’s room, he is greeted with that smile. What he doesn’t realise is that his visits are excitingly unexpectedly haphazard, whereas mine are (perhaps) boringly regular.

20150927_143929

When I showed Ants that last photo of his smile, he took my hand in his and kissed it exactly ten times before saying…

Anthony: Who’s that silly old fool?

Me: My hero.

31 Comments »