jmgoyder

wings and things

What a peculiar blog!

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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Out of the mouths of babes….

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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Un-blogged….

There are several reasons that I have become somewhat disconnected from the blogosphere lately:

1. I have made Anthony’s nursing home room a simulation of our home;
2. I’ve become addicted to the Danish series, The Killing;
3. I’m preoccupied with crafting a present for my mother’s soon-to-be 80th birthday;
4. I have given up on trying to tempt Ming with my ox-tail stew;
5. My volunteering in the dementia ward on the weekends is a gift to me because, years ago, when I worked as a nurse in various nursing homes, there was never any time to actually chat with patients; now it is actually something that is scheduled!

So, I have decided to go for a job at the nursing home in the hope that my so-far volunteering reputation will help.

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Closure

Yes, I realize that the notion of closure is a tricky one but for me it happened when I wrote, published, then subsequently deleted, a post about the car accident, a few days ago. For the very last time.

The self-pitying self-indulgence of that post sickened and embarrassed me for a couple of reasons. Firstly, that I would mourn what-might-have-been (death, disability) when it soon became apparent that everyone would be okay. Secondly, that I know people now who have lost their children to death, so why the hell am I complaining?

Instead of rejoicing, I kept picking at the scabs of my confusion, family wrangles, guilt and blame, dead-end conversations with Ming.

It is now an incredible relief to be able to say that the accident is over and done with. Of course, I can only speak for myself, but, no matter how selfish this sounds, I am over it!

The best thing about closure is the anticipation of the next chapter….

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Blogging update

I’m gradually (and unguiltily!) getting back to reading, and commenting on, other people’s blogs, and re-subscribing to those I have lost touch with. Like many other bloggers, I feel such gratitude for the community of friends I’ve connected with over the last three years. The fact that I can’t consistently keep up with everyone’s posts no longer bothers me and it is quite a relief to dip in and read when I can, comment if I want to, and not read any blogs if the day is too busy. Having said that, I am very appreciative of those friends who continue to give me their support and friendship. It has been an extremely difficult year for my family, but things are finally returning to normal, whatever that is.

Perhaps my blog-reading will, from now on, resemble the unpredictability of Ming hanging out the washing!

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The expression on Ming’s face here is exactly the same as when he sees his name in one of my blog posts – ha!

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Volunteering 2

Ev, the Events Coordinator at Anthony’s nursing home, doesn’t work on the weekends usually, so I asked her if I could do some of my volunteer work in the Dementia wing and she said yes! She told me that they have activities between 3 and 6pm and I could join in any time, so today I had my first taste of what this would be like. I knocked on the main door (it’s a locked section) and I got a nice surprise when the staff member who opened the door was Jill, who I already know because she brings three women residents for a walk around the nursing home every day at about 3pm and they pass by Anthony’s room where we all exchange waves and hellos. Once I explained I was now a volunteer, she was delighted and asked me to come for the walk. I was thrilled.

Jill always holds 91-year-old Wilma’s hand as they walk; Beryl (80s) usually walks by herself; and Meg (80s) holds her daughter, Cheryl’s hand. All three women residents are extremely mobile, cheerful and vocal (including singing as they walk) and all three also have dementia. Towards the end of the walk, Beryl put her left hand lightly around my right elbow and I felt a pang of joy as she asked me again what my name was. Back in the dementia wing, we all sat outside in a lovely patio and Jill organised some memory games. At 4pm, my hour was up so I excused myself and thanked the staff and residents for having me. Beryl squeezed my hand and said goodbye.

On the way back to Anthony’s section of the nursing home, I felt a sense of happy nostalgia for the years I worked in nursing homes, the years I wrote about dementia in my PhD and a subsequent book. I also felt a bit of melancholy nostalgia for the years of writing during which Anthony would help me fine-tune my argument which was about the importance of listening to, and conversing with, people with dementia, regardless of how the conversation might meander between memory, fantasy, lucidity, sense and nonsense.

It was amazing today to see staff and residents so compatible and cheerful but what really got to me was the mutual respect shown. I worked in several nursing homes in the late 1980s to 1990s and I never once saw what I saw today: staff and residents having fun together in a prolonged way!

Rushing into Anthony’s room so I could tell him all about it, I found him still asleep in his chair the way I’d left him an hour previous. I sat down in the chair I always position next to his and put a favourite DVD of ours into the player I only bought a few days ago The IT Crowd. Ants kept sleeping while I watched a few episodes but, every time I guffawed, he would open his eyes and smile, then tell me to turn the hoses off.

[To blog-friends, I’ve decided to post on weekends and do comments and read blogs during week now. I feel a bit out of touch!]

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Resting

I’ve had a wonderful rest from blogging (as in NOT reading, writing, commenting, replying) and, despite the inevitable guilt, it has been great to concentrate on other things.

Like my navel!

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That’s Gutsy9 by the way.

Life here has become too busy to sustain blogging every day so I’ve decided to post once a week instead of once a day. Again, I really appreciate the support and friendships formed with other bloggers but I simply can’t keep up.

I think, too, I have oversubscribed to blogs in general and, especially to those that deal with grief. The kinship and support exchanged with those bloggers continues to sustain me but also makes me sad. I can hardly cope with my own sorrow about Anthony, so reading about the grief of others is very hard – too hard for me at the moment. For those of you who I have become close to, we have each others’ emails so we can still keep in touch. Please feel free to email me on juligoyder@gmail.com

Years ago, when Anthony was younger and still milking his cows, he would have a mini-rest after lunch and that would sustain him for the afternoon ‘shift’. He would have a solid sleep for around ten minutes then get up again, full of energy!

The memories, all mish-mashed now into the present, are sometimes heartbreaking for me, but not for him, thank God. He is okay; my husband is okay; he is being well looked after in the nursing home; he is warm; when he is confused, the nurses reassure him. And tomorrow, I will go in and stay with him for the afternoon and ask him if it is okay if I lie on his bed while we watch TV ….

Resting.

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Holiday

Ever since I began blogging, in November, 2011 (I had to go back to find this!) I have been amazed by the generosity of strangers, the friendships formed by commonalities, and the understanding when certain bloggers, like myself, just can’t keep up with those amazing, yet tenuous, friendships.

The fact that WordPress has gone a bit AWOL in terms of this blog (yes, I have contacted the Happiness engineer people) has actually given me time to reflect on what I really want to do here, on this blog:

1. Reading: Keep in better touch with blog friends, but don’t feel guilty if you can’t.
2. Writing: KISS (keep-it-simple-stupid!) – also, keep it short.
3. Photography: Learn from others.
4. Personal: If you are having a difficult time with the whole life thing, and you can’t blog, that is absolutely fine.

I so appreciate all of the blog support I have received from friends, relatives, bloggers and family, but I just cannot keep up at the moment and feeling bad not to have even answered comments! So yet another blog break is in order, so I can spend more time with Anthony and write my soon-to-be famous novel ha!

Nothing dramatic – just a little blog holiday.

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A bit like the weather

At the nursing home, Anthony was up and about this afternoon at about the same time he was in bed yesterday. He was lucid, mobile, vocal and quite jaunty.

To me, Dementia resembles the unpredictability of the weather, about which you can do nothing. The other day, a tree was uprooted and fell down during a storm; the next day it poured with rain; the next day it was bright sunshine; and today it is a bit of both.

There is nothing anyone can do about weather fluctuations – nothing. Forecasts can be wrong and often the weather will change drastically from what was expected to something totally different. A storm may shove a sunny day aside and vice versa. And there is nothing you can do about it. Nothing.

Dementia is like this in so many ways. One day, at exactly 10am, Anthony might be able to answer the phone and have a coherent conversation with me; the next day he might be unable to do either. Despite the careful timing of his PDD medications (just like I used to do at home), sometimes he has a huge appetite and other times he has forgotten how to eat. Sometimes he can almost run, using his walker and other times he can’t even take a single step and we have to get the wheelchair.

With over ten years of nursing experience up my sleeve, and a PhD about Alzheimer’s Disease, you would think that I’d have more understanding of the kind of nuances that occur when Dementia has climbed onto the back of another disease like Anthony’s Parkinson’s. And yet, every day is a surprise for me – sometime wonderful, sometimes awful, and sometimes in-between … a bit like the weather.

So what do you do when the weather isn’t what you expected?
You accept it of course, because you have no choice.

[Note to blogger friends: I am still not receiving email notifications of your posts so have been using the WP Reader. This is a much better way for me for the time being but I am not keeping up with you all and I apologize].

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Blog email notification mystery

For some reason I am no longer receiving any blog notifications via email. This means that I will need to go to the Reader to catch up I think. Have any other bloggers been encountering this problem? In the meantime, it is going to take me awhile to catch up on blog friends’ posts.

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