jmgoyder

wings and things

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!

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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.

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Missing Missy!

Well I miss Fergie too but Missy was definitely the most mischievous of the two. No matter what yard we put her in she Houdini-ed her way out of it almost immediately. As a result, we got into the habit of letting all of the dogs (our two and the two we were dog-sitting) out for much of the day.

So, the other day, when Missy was conducting an aerobics lesson with Fergie, Blaze and Jack, I drove up to the local shop to get some groceries and returned 15 minutes later
to
find
that
they
were
GONE!

Not Jack and Blaze; they were resting on the front veranda and initially I didn’t fret about Fergie and Missy having been assured by their owners (my nephew and family) that they would not run away. But, after about half an hour, I began to wonder where on earth they were so I did a preliminary search of the acreage around the house, including the pond,
with
a
growing
sense
of
absolute
DREAD!

Two hours later I was in a state of panic and texted Ming who was at work but he didn’t answer so then, with a lump in my throat, and tears in my eyes, I messaged my nephew’s wife and admitted that I had somehow lost their dogs. Then I went back outside to continue the search. “Where are they, Jack? Where are they, Blaze?” I kept asking our rather subdued dogs but of course dogs can’t talk so they just looked up at me sadly.

When I got back inside, having given up, and having resigned myself to the fact that my nephew, his wife, and their two small children would NEVER forgive me, I checked my messages and was
overcome
with
a tsunami-like
sense
of
RELIEF!

“It’s okay – they’re just across the road with J and P” (my nephew’s parents).

OH! THANK GOD!

An hour or so later J and P returned the little rascals and Missy recommenced the aerobics lesson from her preferred position on the table on the front veranda. I have never seen a dog with such kangaroo-like abilities. With gravity-defying agility she simply springs upwards and lands on whatever happens to be higher than the ground. Extraordinary!

But she was a bit tired after her adventure across the front paddock and over the road, so she concluded the aerobics lesson in relaxed mode.

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Doggone!

For the last few days we have been babysitting two extraordinary little shih-tzu/godzilla crossed dogs for my beloved nephew.

In the two pictures below you can see that Missy (the littlest of the shih-tzu/godzilla crossed dogs) is an intimidating force. Jack, our Irish terrier, is going to need therapy for bewilderment. Can you see his expression in right corner of the second photo? Poor sweet boofhead!

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Blaze, on the other hand (our 10-year-old miniature dachshund) seems to have fallen in love for the first time in his life – with BOTH Missy and Fergie!

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But he is a bit overwhelmed.

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And a bit tactless.

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The bigger of the two shih-zhu/godzillas is named Fergie and, without any reference to the royal family, I have to say that she does exhibit a lack of inhibition in the way she continually interrupts the flirtation between Missy and Blaze. She may need some jealousy therapy, poor girl.I will also have to speak sternly to Blaze about monogamy!

Oh yes and Missy and Fergie disappeared the other day but that is another story!

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Simulating home

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As you can see we are still experiencing a wintry spring after its false start last week. The weather alerts for Western Australia are a bit alarming with winds of up to 100 kph so I came home a bit early from the nursing home yesterday.

I have begun to arrive at the nursing home by 11am most days now because, with the volunteering, I need plenty of time to wear both ‘hats’. It is working out so well but more about that in another post.

Over the two and a half years since Anthony entered the nursing home, his room has become as close as I can get it to our real home: freshly picked flowers (although I never did this when Anthony lived at home – he did!); daily food treats on plates and a cutting board I keep there; familiar shows on television via the DVD; a well-stocked bar and our own glassware and so on.

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And (my latest idea!) Ming’s 2.5 kg weights. I didn’t expect Anthony to be quite so enthusiastic about this but I was wrong – he did around 20 for each arm with me cheering him on and cracking up laughing at the same time!

weights

weights 2

Despite my intention to take Jack, our Irish terrier, in to see Ants, I couldn’t find either his leash or collar that day so I will probably take Blaze instead for the time being.

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Even I am beginning to feel more at home at the nursing home than I am at home, which is really weird! Well, at the moment, it is a lot warmer there.

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Parkinson’s disease and paranoia

Well I was wrong about Anthony not remembering last night’s incident. I just spoke to him on the phone earlier this morning and he said ‘they’ are doing terrible things to him and that last night he decided to fight back. “I wanted you to come in and see they are testing me.”

I tried to explain that the staff were just trying to put him to bed, but he wouldn’t accept that and so I said Ming and I would be in this afternoon. He said okay in a tired, defeated voice.

Since then I’ve been looking at various articles about Parkinson’s disease (PD) and Parkinson’s disease dementia (PDD) that discuss paranoia and psychosis in the latter stages of the disease. The fact that Anthony remembers last night, and still maintains that he is somehow under attack, indicates that paranoia has well and truly landed on our doorstep.

In the literature about PD that I’ve read over the years, it is stated by many that symptoms like hallucinations and paranoia are not only symptoms of the disease but may also be side-effects of the medications. What a dilemma! Ants has had hallucinations for years and lately I have noticed them getting worse (not in a disturbing way – it’s usually just dogs in the room) but in terms of frequency.

The increase in hallucinations exacerbates the paranoia because if Anthony thinks a tablecloth is his dessert, or that a dog is sitting on top of his television, or that Ming is sitting in an empty chair, or that a spoon is a lizard or that the polka-dots on my shirt are flies, then it stands to reason that he might also see a nurse as a torturer. Especially if it is late in the evening and he is already tired and confused.

It probably seems harsh that I yelled at Anthony on the phone last night but I have found this to be quite effective in the past when gentle words don’t work. Cruel to be kind I guess and it kind of shocks him into a tentative acceptance of what is going on. Last night he didn’t believe me that the nurses were nurses until I yelled at him. Obviously, if I lived closer than a half hour drive I would have gone into the nursing home, and maybe I should have gone in anyway, but the nurses reassured me on the phone that Anthony had calmed down a bit, so I let them handle the situation and I hoped for the best.

In the past, it has helped Anthony a lot when I have explained the link between PD and hallucinations so this afternoon, when Ming and I see him, I am also going to tell him about how paranoia is also part of his condition. I think if he knows this it will help him cope better with the night time ritual of being put to bed by the nurses.

Time will tell.

The photo is from two years ago with ‘Doc’ (now deceased) on Anthony’s lap, and ‘Jack’ the Irish terrier we got Anthony as a surprise birthday present when he still lived here at home.

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38 Comments »

“Mummy!”

Ming was allowed to come home today, three days after his surgery which was a fantastic surprise (we were told he’d be in hospital until Christmas Eve). I’d been staying in a hotel for a couple of nights and coming and going to the hospital, but checked out yesterday, planning to visit Ming then go home to the farm to feed and water the dogs, birds and alpacas, only to be told he’d be discharged today! So I quickly rang a friend to see if she could do the animals and checked back into the hotel for another night.

Yesterday Ming was still attached to the pain+antibiotic drip, a catheter, and a blood drain thingy, oxygen, and he could hardly get out of bed and walk a few steps, but today he was free of the various tubes and fighting fit – amazing! It is 8pm here and we got home around an hour ago. Ming is in a lot of pain but has three kinds of painkillers so is now in bed.

One of the painkillers has a strange side-effect – Mummy love! It is so hilarious; on Tuesday evening when he finally came out of surgery, he kept looking at me woozily and saying, “Oh, Mummy, give me your hand, hold my hand, I want to have a cubble (cuddle), you are the best mummy in the whole wide world, oh I love you so much” etc. If I let his hand go for a moment, he would yell, “Mummy, I need your hand! Muuuuuuummmmmmmyyyyyyyyy!”

Now this would have been okay if (a) he had a private room, and (b) he had a quiet voice. But he was in a shared room with three men who were all chuckling every time Ming yelled out, “Mummy, hand – where’s your hand?” After a couple of hours of this I started to get a bit embarrassed and sick of holding his stupid hand! His nurse was laughing hysterically (but quietly) at his antics and, as Ming got sleepier, she helped me remove my hand from his so I could escape to my hotel and have a well-earned wine.

My hand is still aching from his grip – so funny!

And so absolutely wonderful!

Note: Thank you so much to my WordPress and Facebook, and other friends and family (especially my own mother) for all of your prayers, wishes and messages to us. I haven’t had time to reply properly but please know how much your comments, care and love is appreciated by Ming and Muuuuummmmmyyyyy!

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Dog’s breakfast

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The other morning the dogs were playing around with something in the front yard that looked like a boot or an old football. On closer inspection, I got rather a nasty shock. It was a dead calf’s head (I think!)

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Who let the dogs out?

Remember this song?  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=He82NBjJqf8&noredirect=1

For some time now we have had a dogs versus birds dilemma and this has been a source of contention between Ming and me. I have tended to lock the dogs in their yard and let the birds free range and Ming has wanted this arrangement reversed, so we have now come to a compromise. The dogs get to run free all morning, then get put back into their yard, then the poultry get to free range all afternoon until we put them away, then the dogs get another run. So far this is working very well.

The reason we can’t let them all frolic together is because the dogs want to kill everything. Blaze is a miniature dachschund and Jack is an Irish terrier so, despite our attempts to train them not to kill (using electric collar things briefly which I didn’t like, and a dog trainer) both breeds have been bred to hunt and kill.

Luckily the guinnea fowl and peafowl can fly up and away from dog danger, but none of the poultry can – not even Godfrey – so now we have a new system and everyone seems very happy – the gang, the dogs and Ming and me.

They look so innocent don’t they!

Don’t be fooled by their sweet demeanours; Ming let them out a bit early the other afternoon, before the roosters were roosting, and they killed Noname and Tina Turner almost instantaneously. Poor Ming tried to stop it but had to come and tell me. I cried my eyes out even though Tina and I had such a love/hate relationship. Noname was always a bit vulnerable and an easy target so I guess, for me, this was another lesson learned.

I’m not sure if getting accustomed to loss is a good or a bad thing.

44 Comments »

I think Doc is dying

I posted a picture of Doc the other day. He is the eldest of our two male miniature dachschunds and has now been diagnosed with spinal problems (typical of the breed) and has nearly finished the course of cortisone the vet prescribed. We have had him inside the back veranda for days now and Son has slept with him over the last few nights to keep him all warm and cosy, but today Doc is shivering and listless and has this blank expression in his eyes. He is also a little stiff, very lethargic and just seems miserable. He isn’t whimpering, but I intuit that he is in pain and I’m not sure what to do. I think we need to make a decision.

Any dog advice appreciated. Son and I are going to give him a few more hours of love and then take him back to the vet to put him out of his misery. But what if we are wrong?

119 Comments »

Smiling, sighing and starting again!

Today, I started again with Husband.

I took Husband back to the nursing lodge and, after the usual teary farewell, I walked from his room down the long hallway and then thought that was getting to be a really stupid, repetitive ritual. So I ran back up the hallway, startling a couple of nurses, and yippeed back into Husband’s room, startling him even more, and pounced on him, wiped the tears away from his cheeks and yelled “One more hug for the road!” I left him laughing his head off. Yes!

Today, I started again with Son.

Me: (washing dishes with Son) Sigh

Son: You sighed again

Me: No I didn’t

Son: Yes you did – you just sighed as if you wanted me to go away

Me: I didn’t sigh and I don’t want you to go away. Sigh

Son: See – you did it again!

Me: (holding breath) Okay, so I’ll try not to sigh

Son: I don’t understand your sighs – you do it all the time.

Me: If I sigh, it usually just means I’m tired.

Son: Tired of me or of Dad?

Me: What answer would you prefer?

Son: The truth

Me: Okay, I’m a bit tired from the busy weekend with Dad and everything else

Son: I’m so sorry about the emus, Mum

Me: It’s okay – let’s not talk about it. Sigh

Son: Mum, can we have a talk later on about stuff?

Me: Why can’t we have a talk now?

Son: Because I’m busy resting – seeya. Oh, do you want more help with the dishes?

Me: No thanks, darling. Sigh

Son: Are you sure? You just sighed again.

Me: Sorry. Sigh

Son: I’m actually just watching the Harry Potter series because I missed most of it in my youth

Me: I think that’s great!

Son: Okay, love you, Mum

Me: Love you too. Sigh

Son: (from his room) I heard that sigh

Me: (thundering down the hallway into his room with a teatowel as a weapon) It was a happy sigh, okay!

Son: (terrified) Okay, okay! Sigh

He’ll be back!

Today, I started again with the dogs-versus-birds dilemma

And I was rewarded by a small miracle – Doc and one of the Bubbles together. I was utterly amazed because Doc has attacked cattle, sheep, other dogs, rabbits, and plenty of birds, over the years. He is a real little killer, literally! So to see these two guys simply curious about each other made all the starting overs today worth it!

Today, I started again with the vegetable garden

No I didn’t – hehe!

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