jmgoyder

wings and things

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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Predicting unpredictability

I think one of the most difficult things for carers/families/friends of people with Parkinson’s disease, Alzheimer’s disease, or any disease that involves dementia, is the unpredictability of every single day.

Two days ago I sat with Anthony all afternoon and he slumbered the whole time away even when I punched him in the shoulder a couple of times to make sure he was alive. Instead of waking up, he just kept chuckling in his sleep – over and over again! So I just sat there next to him with my arm around his shoulder and watched TV and ate my lunch. A few hours later I informed the nurse-in-charge that he was a bit sleepy and that I was a bit worried he might have had another TIA (mini-stroke).

Me: I’m going to leave my scarf on the chair next to his, so he gets the impression I will be back soon. Is this okay with you?

Nurse-in-charge: Of course!

Later that evening, I rang the nursing home to see if Ants had woken up and the nurse-in-charge reassured me he was fine and that she’d showed him my scarf (an indicator that I would be back).

Me: You are okay with me not coming back?

Nurse-in-charge: Of course!

Okay so I have blogged about this before – this kind deception thing whereby I leave Ants to come home but always say I will be back soon. The reason I do this is because it is kinder than saying I am coming home without him.

This tactic has worked for many months. I turn up the next day at the nursing home and Ants doesn’t seem to recollect that I didn’t return the previous evening.

But today was different! I did my usual:

Me: Just going to get some groceries, Ants – I’ll be back later.

He looked at me with an expression of such lucidity that I was taken aback.

Anthony: You didn’t come back last night, Jules.

This is so weird! Today he remembers yesterday’s promise of tomorrow, but has forgotten so many of yesterday’s tomorrows that every single today is confusing even for me!

Bottom line in this kind of situation is to simply go with the flow I guess?

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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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