Daily Archives: April 9, 2013

I Cleaned House, No Not My House!

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US Navy 110308-N-7491B-039 Surgical technician...

Today I cleaned house. Oh no, not here. I already did my Spring cleaning. I mean Al‘s room. I took in some pairs of shorts and tank tops. He saw me when I entered but I didn’t get a smile or anything for a few moments.

Then he started crying. It was obvious that he had been upset long before I arrived. I put down my goodie bag and sat down beside him to find out what was on his mind. What was the culprit you ask? Good question and I am going to spill the beans right now. Wetting, yep that’s it, wetting his briefs.

For some reason, which I will blame Parkinson’s Disease this past week there has been a change in the bladder area. He was so upset and embarrassed because he had wet himself.

I tried using different reasons as to why this was happening. I was hoping he would reach out and grab one of them but he didn’t. It seems what is happening is that the knowledge of realizing he has to go pee comes late in the connection of the brain.

He realizes he has to go and either he doesn’t remember to put his light on, or he puts the light on and no staff arrive or he just gets late notice that he has to go. I do know that he was sitting there waiting to be changed but there was no call light on.

The light bulb inside Al’s head didn’t go off so I reminded him to push the button. I looked at his clock and it was six minutes until help arrived but it was too late. This in turn brought about more tears.

This is  happening about every time now when he feels the urge to go potty. I think it is a combination like picking the Power Ball numbers. A little Parkinson’s, a little more PD for not using the call light, and a little bit of no staff.

I finally think I found a reason he was able to grasp. I explained that many of his new friends at the Day Program wore briefs and had accidents too. I told him that no one knew they were wearing briefs as it was a hush- hush thing.  I asked him if he knew this information and he said no.

I seemed to be able to help a little so I went about tearing into his closet. I pulled out all long sleeve shirts and heavy-duty pants. I replaced them with the clothes I brought. I took  his winter coats and replaced those with a light-weight Spring jacket. I washed down his bed side table and placed the tower fan for him. Yes, he is still sweating a lot. I learned the heart is causing this excessive sweating.

Without him realizing it I made a trash pile of old newspapers back from when he first went there to live. I found brown paper sacks where he had won goodies at Bingo and they were full of empty wrappers and even one nasty looking banana peel. Yuck!

It was time for lunch then. I had called in and ordered a lunch this morning so we ate together instead of me watching him eat and wishing I was. He did pretty good with lunch and didn’t make too much of a mess for this meal.

His driver appeared and was waiting so she could take him to Day Program for a couple of hours. I pushed him back to his room. He had to go potty he said but he had already wet down in the lunch room he admitted. This caused more tears and again more explanations.

I put the light on for him and seven minutes later someone came in. When help finally arrived I asked her to change his heavy pants into something more appropriate for the weather. He chose shorts over thinner pants. She changed him and he and his driver were off with him in tears, still embarrassed about his accident.

I am glad he was able to go. Hopefully his mind was more occupied with friends than wetting. I was told that I needed to take his two walkers home. The doctors orders had come in and there is to be no more walking and he needs to be pushed everywhere in order to save his heart.

I looked like Santa Clause when I left. The car was stuffed with two walkers and a big trash bag full of winter clothes. I finally got the car packed down and headed for home. When I got  inside the phone was ringing. It was the facility.

There was an appointment waiting for Al to have a scope done for his swallowing issues in the esophagus. I am not sure if I made the right decision or not but I have not heard Al complaining much about swallowing since they changed his diet to puree meat and mechanical soft. I also now know that his heart is working over-time and has been damaged.

The doctors would put him to sleep to look down his throat and I chose not to put him through another procedure at this time. I called the number I was given and spoke to the nurse about my concerns. I asked her for her advice. She explained that at any time if things looked worse we could reschedule.

I felt comfortable with this. He wasn’t going to be turned down for an appointment at a later date, we were just putting it on hold until things progressed more in that area.

I felt good about today’s visit. I cleaned house for him. I tried my best to get him to understand the complications of PD and wetting one’s self. Lastly, he was out on an outing. I can tell he does not feel well but at least he was talking to me and he ate all his lunch today.

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Daily Prompt; Share the Love

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Thinking

http://dailypost.wordpress.com, DP, Daily Prompt

Tell us about another blogger who has influenced your own online journey.

Every comment has influenced my journey here at WP. I won’t go in to the old repeated story of how I came to begin my journey of writing. But I do once again have to say one important statement. Without God I could do nothing, including writing down my thoughts that are sometimes silly to others and don’t make sense.

There have been many people who have Liked, clicked, commented or shared advice. None of you probably understand how I sit here behind the desk and reach out grabbing on to and clinging to your words.

I can’t have it both ways. I can’t be the person who wishes for a different style of living and yet doesn’t force myself to go out in search of anything different.

There is a huge chunk of me that likes who I am today. Yes, I am sort of a loner. A person who in the real world tends to hide behind my feelings. But on here I have no fear stopping me.

You have accepted me through  my lonely times, my sad tears, and sometimes my humor that comes out in my writing. What else could I be doing rather than this? I am not sure. Sometimes I don’t want to know what else is in the world to get into.

I have definitely changed through the year I have been here at WP. I have learned to accept that I am a little different from each of you. I realize it is alright to not be like the Jones’ next door. I have discovered that no matter what I try to do differently, the heart and soul of me is to be a caregiver.

Not just a caregiver for my brother, but a concerned, caring person for others. We all have issues at times. There really is no one that doesn’t feel pain  and sadness at times. Life throws many beach balls in our direction and sometimes they smack us right in the face. Letting us feel loss of friendships, partners, family members and even loss of which direction we are heading.

I am no longer ashamed to admit that I need you and your friendship. I am not afraid to let you know that I look for your comments and that I take them to heart and sometimes in my dreams I dream of you standing beside me in my own journey of life.

Does this mean I am weak? I don’t think so. Is it wrong to admit that we need others in our lives in order to remain strong and solid? No, I think it shows courage and guts to admit that we can not tarry this road of life alone.

To sit here and say one blogger has made a difference in my life would be an outright lie. It is all of you. Each of you bring something different to the table. I am able to fly off as a bird does with his worm in his mouth. I am able to build the nest that I have been working on for so long with Al.

I can now bring stronger comfort to him. I can stand a little taller because of you. I can pick up my phone and dial your number and hear your words of comfort. I have been invited to visit some. I have been called by others to be only told, I am thinking of you………

This means the world to me. So for this prompt, I am going to toss it out the window. I will break the glass into hundreds of slivers. Slivers that sparkle with names of you falling gently around me.

I am blessed. I am truly a lucky gal who has let God open my heart to write and make life long friendships. Thank- you each of my special friends and family of writers.

 

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Who Is This Man

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Holding Hands shadow on sand

I heard one day a man conversing with another that when you are in a situation you feel you can’t get out of all you have to do is call upon his name. Who’s name? Who is this man you were speaking of?

I am sitting here on this park bench watching people walk by. Some are holding hands. Others I see are walking with minds far a way. Kids running and skipping. Bikes whizzing by.

No one stops near me. No one cares do they? Does this man care about me? I really doubt it. I have not been a good person. I fell off the way side years ago. I don’t think this person I heard them talk about would want to bother with me.

You see I laid my life aside to have what my body craved. I chose the bottle over my own wife and kids. I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help myself. It called to me, the pull of pouring one more drink down my gullet was the driving factor for which I traded places with commitments for desires.

A man with such authority and power surely doesn’t touch the likes of me. My life is void. I was found in a gutter one day by a man in a uniform. I was taken in and placed behind metal bars. When I was finally released by my own empty promises that I would get help, I walked into an empty frame that was once my home.

The kids toys were no longer on the floor. The smell of my wife’s perfume had vanished. All I could inhale of memories reminding me that I once lived here was my two suitcases standing tall by the living room door.

They had left me. The woman I had fallen in love with during my college days had no more hope to cling to. She had taken my two precious babies and ran. I can still remember the days of yesterday. I bowed and kissed my wife’s brow. Resting in her arms were two precious lives that I had helped create. I felt more love in me at that moment than I had every experienced my entire life.

Now that I stood here hearing my children’s voices echoing in my mind I lay down and wept. I had screwed up. I had become what the town called the “town drunk.” Was this really me? Had I let that first drink turn into another? How could one person make such a mess of his own life with only the help of one lonely  bottle?

I stood and walked through the empty house, reaching out and touching where picture frames once hung. I could see where the Christmas Tree had sat so many times. Walking up the stairs, the same path as my children ran day after day, now holding only ghosts who stand back and wickedly laugh at me.

I stand in the door way of the room of my wife. I can see her walking towards me with tears in her eyes as I came home one more time too late. I always promised her I would never do it again and she would comfort me with kisses and I would wipe her tears with my lips.

Movie clips running through my mind of the times when we came together in this room. Promising to love no other, I had broken the golden rule and had become a slave to another. I walked back down the stairs running my hands on the rail. Trying to touch any remnants of my children that may still be lingering.

I opened the front door and picked up my two bags and I looked back once again hoping that I am only having a bad dream. But alas, no one answers. No one looks my way. I close the door behind me and I walk to the park.

Who is this man who you were speaking of? Can he talk to me too? For I am empty in heart and my mind is cracked. I need help. I bury my head in my hands and I try to cry only unto myself. The tears flow and my body is shaking. I can not stop it for it feels as though I am losing all control over my own thoughts and feelings.

A gentle hand is touching my shoulder. I look up and over my quivering fingers. My eyes covered with mist look into the eyes of the one man I heard speaking. He sits down beside me and I find myself being coddled by him.

I look up into his face and I ask, “Who is the man who I over heard you talking about to your friend? Do you think you could ask him to help me too? I have messed up my life so bad. I have lost my wife and my kids. I have nothing now but these two suitcases. Do you think he can help me? Can you take me to him?”

This kind stranger stands up and takes one suitcase in his hand. I pick up the other one. He takes a step forward asking me to follow. I do not ask questions but do as he requests. In but a few short minutes I find myself kneeling with this man beside a long bench.

I look at him with his kind eyes and he gazes up towards the colorful big window. I follow his gaze and there I find the most beautiful window I have ever seen. There is a man standing in the middle. He has a staff he is holding. He has a halo surrounding his hair. Dressed in a white garment and leather sandals I feel a hint of peace come over me.

The man looks back at me and with the most gentle voice speaks, “Here is the man who can help you. All you have to do is ask. His name is Jesus Christ. He wants to help you.” I bring my hands together and the man places his hands over mine. At this moment, at this precise second, I am about to change my entire life by only asking.

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