jmgoyder

wings and things

A tip for taking people with Parkinson’s disease out and about

As Anthony’s Parkinson’s disease (diagnosed several years ago now) has worsened, it has become increasingly difficult to take him out, or bring him home from the nursing home. For a few months last year, I relied on the wheelchair taxi because he had become so heavy to manouevre. Then, with some tweaking of his medications (by his specialists and doctors) and with a renewed sense of determination on my part, and special attention to timing, I began again to take him out by myself.

The timing of Parkinson’s disease medications is vital. If Anthony doesn’t get his 11am pill, he is paralysed by noon. The staff at the nursing home have been brilliant at getting this right. This means that if I pick him up for lunch he is able to walk (using a walker) to the car, get in with just a bit of a shove from me, get out again with a 1, 2, 3 pull up from me, walk into a cafe or whatever, eat some cake, and walk (using the walker again) back to the car.

His next scheduled pill for the day is 4pm but I really think it should be 3pm because that is the time that he always begins to falter, with his words, movements etc. so, if he is home, I give it to him early because we have had some extremely difficult situations where I just cannot get him to move his feet at all, let alone walk. I guess we are getting to the stage now where I have to bring both the walker and a wheelchair with us if we go out.

The person who most inspired me to take Anthony out more is Terry at http://terry1954.wordpress.com/

Terry has been looking after her brother, Al for years and Al doesn’t just have PD, he also has MSA (see Terry’s blog for what this is like). Al is now bedridden and on the brink of death with Terry constantly by his side. She has always inspired me in the way she copes with pragmatism and prayer in equal amounts.

But, before Al reached this stage, Terry used to to take him out and about, to his favourite shops and restaurants. I read about these escapades with mixture of delight and admiration, but what really struck me was how much joy this gave Terry herself. She is the person who gave me the impetus to take Anthony out and about more.

And, if I get the timing right, Ants and I can still have a rollicking time (well sort of!) However, here is where Terry and I are different; she took Al to places Al liked to go to (she is unselfish), whereas I now take Anthony to places I like to go (I am selfish).

However, that is my tip: instead of seeing it as a chore to take someone with PD or any other disease out of the nursing home for a bit of a break, think of where YOU would like to go. That way, the outing is transformed from a job into a joy.

Just don’t go to the beach (wheelchairs don’t do well on sand!)

This post is dedicated to Terry and Al.

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Prayer

I am not really sure what prayer is any more, but, whatever it is, I have rediscovered it.

Earlier today I reblogged a post written for Robyn by her friend, Resa, but like many a reblog, it didn’t get read by that many people on my own blog, so I thought I would add something here to encourage people to check it out AND to check out Robyn’s own blog at:

My Story

I have known Robyn since I began blogging and was compelled by her courage in dealing with debilitating physical pain, her talent for photography and poetry, and her immediate and generous friendship to me. But a few months ago she stopped blogging and I knew things must be badly wrong, so I sent her a couple of tentative emails, worried that I might be intruding, but she replied and told me things were not so good.

Since then, I have worried and wondered and prayed and been scared for her so, it wasn’t until Resa posted about Robyn that I knew about her impending major hip surgery this week. I cannot imagine the kind of physical pain Robyn has endured over the years, but I can imagine the hope felt by Robyn, and her family and friends, that this surgery will vastly improve her condition, and that it will take away the pain.

Many people who follow this blog already know Robyn, but if you don’t, please spare a thought and a prayer for her this week. She is one of the best people I have ever been blessed to meet.

I salute you Robyn, over and over again.

This is a prayer.

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Out to lunch!

Today is the fifth day I have been out to lunch with various family and friends AND had visitors in the evening. I feel thoroughly resocialized!

Yesterday was lunch at the local tavern with Ming’s best mates’ families. The day before was lunch at a restaurant with Ming, Meg and Anthony, where Anthony proved that his appetite is still quite healthy by vacuuming up two dozen oysters naturale AND a chocolate dessert (even though he had already had his usual roast dinner at the nursing home!)

And then there was lunch with with an old friend whose husband is in hospital, lunch with Tony (which I already blogged about), lunch today with Anthony’s niece who is also my niece but she is older than I am but looks younger (grrr!), then drinks here with another old friend, her husband and gorgeous daughter, then last night a rollicking time with my first niece, Ash, and her Scottish husband, who have both moved back to Australia.

Happiness can be a bit exhausting. Oh yes, and the peahens are gradually returning!

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Twenty years ago….

Twenty years, nine hours and forty seven minutes ago I gave birth to a funny, round-headed, thin-limbed creature called Ming. Happy birthday, beautiful boy-man! Anthony and I love you very much.

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How to apologize?

The reason I have added a question mark to the title of this post is because I don’t know the answer in general. I only know my own way of apologizing, which is pretty much to roll in the dirt, say I am sorry over and over, and kiss the toes of people I don’t particularly like or understand anymore, hoping for some sort of forgiveness or reconciliation.

But there is something fundamentally skewed about this kind of apology because it implies guilt (mine – i.e. it is all my fault) and it also gives the person apologized to a very good reason to keep hold of his/her grudge, whatever it is. Sometimes that grudge has nothing to do with the present but has everything to do with the past and, when the past has somehow become toxic, you know you have a problem.

Ming and I were talking about all of this philosophical stuff today, after a fantastic lunch out with Ants and Meg, and we came to the conclusion that there were three ways to apologize and forgive: (1) Blip it, move on, act normal and civil, forget the hurtful things said/felt; or (2) Talk it through, be honest even if it means tears and/or recriminations, and tell me what the hell I have done that has hurt you so much; or (3) Distance.

Give me distance any day!

Sometimes Anthony imagines or hallucinates about past family conflicts and I have to reassure him that everything is okay now. I hate that he remembers incidents that are best forgotten and I hate that he forgets all is well now.

I always want to talk through these kinds of relationship conflicts – always! I want to put it all on the table, so to speak, but I am usually on my own because nobody wants to get into the nitty gritty of what the hell is wrong here, and nobody seems to want to apologize back!

Why?

I am so sick of saying I am sorry!

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My uninhibited son!

Two and a half weeks ago, on the day of Ming’s second scoliosis operation, my oldest friend, Tony, came to visit us in the hospital. Ming was in one of those gowns they put you in before surgery and he was waiting in a very small room with several other gowned people. He had been told to remove his underwear but, as the gowns are so see-through, he hadn’t done so yet and his bright orange jocks were quite visible.

Well, just before Tony arrived, Ming, thinking he might be called at any moment, went to the bathroom and removed the jocks and handed them to me all scrunched up to put in my handbag. “It feels really weird, Mum!” he said to me/to the whole room (even when he speaks quietly his voice booms!) He had been given a premed. of some sort which had disinhibited his already uninhibited personality.

A few minutes later, Tony texted me to say he was in the hospital cafe so I went downstairs and brought him back to the little waiting room to see Ming. As soon as he saw Tony, he stood up and shook hands, then said, “My genitalia are exposed.”

Tony’s jaw dropped slightly but he is used to Ming’s idiosyncratic statements so he just said something like, “Thank you for that information,” and I cracked up laughing when I saw the other people in the room smiling at this odd exchange.

Yesterday, Ming and I had lunch with Tony in the town where we always meet, halfway between where we live and Perth, where Tony lives. It was wonderful – Tony can make me laugh like nobody else, and I love watching the way he and Ming banter. It actually struck me, at one point, that Tony is like a second father to Ming, especially when Ming jokingly said “Thanks, Dad” when Tony paid for our lunch!

Thanks, Tony – your friendship is a gift.

This is us yesterday.

photo

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Powerful!

I follow the blog of a wonderful woman, Nicole Cody, who writes with such positive, energetic wisdom that sometimes it takes my breath away. In her post today, she invites us to choose a “Power Word” for 2014 – see http://cauldronsandcupcakes.com/

Lots of possible words came to mind: gratitude, laughter, healing, energy, harmony … but then I suddenly realized that I wanted my own power word to be the word, power itself. Or, to be more exact, the word, powerful!

POWERFUL – yes, I like it!

For me, this word doesn’t mean that I want to stomp, Godzilla-like, on anybody or anything; instead, it signifies a transition from the flailing, exhausted, try-too-hard strength I already have to a more spiritual, muscle-bound ability to contend with all 2014’s challenges, and embrace all of 2014’s joys with the kind of gratitude that is loud and fierce and inviolable.

The weird thing is that as soon as I chose my power word, my limp became a leap, and my wrinkled heart grinned itself into a balloon.

Thank you, Nicole! This photo of Prince is for you.

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The party animal is back!

Ming has taken the good car down south, with a best friend, to a New Year’s Eve party because he only has an automatic licence and our very old ute (truck) is manual, so guess who is driving that? Yes, me, and it is so ancient that just turning the steering wheel left and right etc., on even a short drive, is equivalent to a two-hour arm workout at the gym (not that I’ve ever done that).

We finally have a date for the court case – 22nd January – but until then Ming still has his driver’s licence, so he is making the most of it. Of course, since the car accident, I am very nervous about him driving but, except for the aberration in October, he is a careful driver and is not a drinker, so I hope they both have a great, safe time, but look forward to their return tomorrow.

Ming is off all of the strong painkillers now and just needs panadol occasionally; the bandages are off and he is definitely straighter again and the pre-op. pain has gone. It was a bit of a shock to see that the new scar is almost as long as the one from his original scoliosis operation (almost the whole length of his spine) so I guess they had to rummage around a bit to replace the two broken bits of titanium – yes two! and pack crushed bone from the bone bank all around the area to ensure it all knits back together.

I have probably posted these photos before, but I like them because they show his character. Yes, we have our arguments and conflicts, and we wrestle in different ways with the anxiety about the accident, the kids, the future, but we always talk things through. It is so good to see Ming bouncing back again.

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Happy New Year, Ming, my wonderful party animal son, and may all your dreams come true!

Note: Luckily he doesn’t read my blog any more because he would probably cringe at my sentimentality here – ha!

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One Way!

A couple of weeks ago I had to get Ming to Perth (2 hour drive) by 6.30am, so he could be admitted into the hospital for corrective surgery to his spine. By the time we got to Perth, I was a bit flustered so, when I turned into a one-way street next to the huge hospital, I lost my nerve at the hospital’s ticket-taking machine, so I backed out into that same one-way street and parked the car.

Several hours later, my dearest friend met me for lunch at the hospital and we walked back to my car so I could put more coins in the meter. As soon as he saw my car, he exclaimed that it was pointing in the wrong direction and warned me that I might get a fine. Well he was right! And here is the proof – me standing next to the car with the $70 ticket in my trembling hands.

photo of Julie

It strikes me now that this photograph may be symbolic of something but I am not sure what!

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My friend, Nicola

“Nicola” is a sort of pseudonym for one of my very best friends. The other night, Ming and I were invited to go to her place for drinks but the day got complicated with Anthony home again; unexpected visitors; food shopping; a dreadful hour back at the nursing home in the late afternoon when Ants was almost too paralyzed to get from car to his room despite my help; hurting my stupid back lifting him; Ming getting his bandages wet and me having to peel them off to see a much longer scar/wound than I’d expected, not being able to find the betadine, a rather nasty altercation with the beautiful brat, planning the exciting visit to see my youngest brother, wife and kids the next day and liaising with my mother about this; answering calls on my stupid, non-working, cutting-out phone; getting a headache; and forgetting to put beer in the fridge – argh!

But Nicola was expecting me so, by the time I’d done the bird feeding/watering/yarding, I was kind of ready to go but then Ming and I had another altercation and I ended up yelling at him because the same drugs that were making him all lovey-dovey are now making him monsterish – another argh!

So I rang Nicola and said we couldn’t come (I only told her a bit of the above which is already an abbreviated version of the hell of the day) and she said that it was okay.

I now think that the sentence, “It’s okay” is the best sentence ever invented because it says everything. When someone lets you off the hook of a commitment that you have broken by saying “It’s okay” your whole heart stops holding itself tight and starts beating out a beautiful soft song of gentle understanding and relief.

My reputation for letting people down at the last minute is something that I am not proud of but it stems from the days/years when I was looking after Anthony at home. I became reliably unreliable!

Thanks, Nicola, for your understanding and empathy and amazing friendship. You are a rock!

IT’S OKAY!

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