I wore a lighthearted post a few minutes ago. Now I will be a little more serious. I don’t know what is happening to me. I am not terribly scared over it; but I am becoming alarmed.
Dropping things constantly. Items just fall away from my fingers. Forgetting things and being anxious or confused. Today, for example.
I had to take AJ to the beauty salon at 11 am to drop him off. From there I had to…
I wore a lighthearted post a few minutes ago. Now I will be a little more serious. I don’t know what is happening to me. I am not terribly scared over it; but I am becoming alarmed.
Dropping things constantly. Items just fall away from my fingers. Forgetting things and being anxious or confused. Today, for example.
I had to take AJ to the beauty salon at 11 am to drop him off. From there I had to get a baby shower gift for my daughter-n-law. We are going to be having another addition to the family in about a month. A big, baby girl, bundle of joy.
I also had to mail my book, Dahlia to four bloggers that had requested it. I also mailed my daughter’s birthday gift out. Her birthday is the 15th and I doubt she will be up here for that.
After that I had to go to the bank, then went to meet a lady to pick-up an item I wanted. Finally, I stopped by Taco Bell and grabbed some lunch, then off to pick-up AJ.
Not really a terrible list of things. All in general area of driving. While at the bank I forgot to place the disability tag on my mirror. When I came out of the bank ten minutes later there was a yellow paper on my window.
Looking at it I was surprised. I had been ticketed $50.00 for parking in a handicapped area with no tag. I almost broke down in tears. I had never received a ticket in my life. I got in the car and cursed myself for forgetting to place the tag in view.
I didn’t know what to do. Fifty dollar is a lot of money that I didn’t really have to spend. I drove down to the police station and went through the double doors. A nice looking lady was sitting behind the glass shield.
I started to explain my temporary sanity I seem to have anymore and then I broke down into tears. I explained about my brother passing away recently, and then she offered me some tissue and said she would ask the officer if these charges could be dropped.
She said someone would call me. Knowing I have heard those words before I didn’t think too much about it. I concentrated more on how I was going to get that money. While picking out the baby shower gift my cell phone rang.
It was the officer. He explained he had been told my circumstances and waived the charge and dropped the ticket. I told him thank-you for being so understanding and then hung up.
I thanked God for saving me, but I am concerned on why I seem such a ditz anymore. People tell me things and then later will bring it up and I have no idea what they are talking about.
They try to rattle my brain by reminding me of when and where they told me, but I don’t remember. The dropping of things, and constant marbles in my head are making me begin to wonder if I am getting Parkinson’s Disease like my father, his mother, and her sister had.
I hope not, I pray I don’t, for I live alone and I would not be able to do that forever. I am almost too afraid to pray about it; for fear Satan will get a hold of it and toy with me.
I decided to sneak a few minutes in here and write to all my good friends. I just sent my girlfriend off to Taco Bell with my lunch order. I feel so darn lazy, but the truth is I am dead tired.
Yesterday was not a good day. From the start I had to clean up BM from head to toe on Al. This really didn’t leave me with a Hello, good morning world attitude.After that hour passed by, Al refused…
I decided to sneak a few minutes in here and write to all my good friends. I just sent my girlfriend off to Taco Bell with my lunch order. I feel so darn lazy, but the truth is I am dead tired.
Yesterday was not a good day. From the start I had to clean up BM from head to toe on Al. This really didn’t leave me with a Hello, good morning world attitude. After that hour passed by, Al refused breakfast. He was restless most of the day with some confusion and agitation.
The Hospice nurses decided to ask the doctor for a different type of medication that he already uses. It comes in ER form, which is extended release. It releases a small amount of medication constantly for 12 hours.
I ended up giving him one pill three different times. As the day wore by Al stayed more awake. He constantly asked me what time it was. Or he was asking if it was PM or AM. I believe that since the medication releases small amounts at a time it just wasn’t giving the power that the regular medicine did. I called Hospice this morning and asked if I could go back to the prior medicine and she said yes. He was not a good sleeper through the night either, so you can imagine that I look like the Wicked Witch of the West today.
At seven-thirty this morning I finally fell asleep but then was woken up by my friend telling me, ” Al is calling out, sis.” I jumped up and went in to see what he wanted.
He wanted to get up. I explained to him he couldn’t because he can’t sit up. He continued to complain and moan until 11am when the volunteer came to help me bathe him.
When she arrived I cut Al’s hair and trimmed his mustache. We bathed him and when all was done, he was fast asleep. 
Within a half an hour he was awake and still is. He is not moaning at least. He has not eaten for two days now except two bites of something he asked for yesterday. I think it was his ice-cream.
He didn’t have that big brown surprise for me today and I thanked God immediately for this wonderful gift of not seeing it. Now I am just waiting for my friend to bring back lunch. She even added that we could order pizza for supper.
She is just an angel with big wings to me.
I will miss her kindness when she leaves tomorrow, but like me, she is expecting another grandchild and needs to be there for the birth.
I dread tomorrow in a way and yet am thankful for it. The phone doesn’t ring here on the weekends. No Hospice comes unless I call. No caregiver, no nothing.
But on Mondays it all starts again, noise and commotion and busy, busy, busy. I don’t complain though. They are all here to help Al, and give me a break. I think I am going to sneak out of here a bit tomorrow, because I need a break from inside this house.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com, Daily Prompt, DP
Do you thrive under pressure or crumble at the thought of it? Does your best stuff surface as the deadline approaches or do you need to iterate, day after day to achieve something you’re proud of? Tell us how you work best.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us PRESSURE.
Odd that this is the prompt for today. I was actually considering blogging…
http://dailypost.wordpress.com, Daily Prompt, DP
Do you thrive under pressure or crumble at the thought of it? Does your best stuff surface as the deadline approaches or do you need to iterate, day after day to achieve something you’re proud of? Tell us how you work best.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us PRESSURE.
Odd that this is the prompt for today. I was actually considering blogging about the pressure and then backed down from it in order not to accidentally bring down anyone else.
The weekend was the worst. Today is even more so. The pressure is on because listening to a family member tell you they are unloved, unworthy, a piece of crap, a zombie, is something that can rip up a family member’s heart.
I have been unzipped. My heart is wide-open. The tears started first thing this morning for Al and then I followed in his step. Listening to him is just about more than I can deal with. To know these are his true feelings, whether it is the low oxygen or not, he still believes it at the moment he is saying it.
I would say my nerves are shot so early in the day. I feel like a hose ready to explode, but I have to keep it together for his sake.
Several nights staying awake too late
Worrying and stressing about your fate
Going back in time to who you used to be
And now seeing this brings tears to me
Decisions we’ve made impact our now
Trying to move forth but do not see how
Wishing and hoping you see the way
Is what I now pray for every day
I hate to see the tough skin you wear
Your feelings are hidden and you do not bare
I remember the softness you once wore so well
Has been replaced by an ugly and now hardened shell
To pretend that others do not exist or walk
Brings harsh words and roughness to your talk
To ignore what is right and do what is wrong
Can only bring sadness intertwined within your song
I pray that you seek the values instilled by me
I ask God to heal your heart and let the anger be
Oh please find a way and try to heal your soul
I wish only good things and this you know
Now I have to stand back and wait
Too see if my prayers are really too late
I will wait on God and watch his plan
To help you see you need his hand.
Terry Shepherd
01/01/2013
I hear my voice saying calmly, it is alright, we will blame it on the dementia. You didn’t mean to, it is not your fault, but on the inside I am yelling at this PD. Two good days in a row, hardly any tremors, and this is including the day today.
The therapist comes and gives Al exercises to be able to strengthen his arms, so the goal of lifting the full glass up to his lips, instead of lowering his head to the glass, might be accomplished. While the therapist was here, she was telling me that Al is improving, that he has made progress in this one week they have been here.
Inside of me, I am saying show me where? Show me where the tremors are laid back for days. Show me where he did quit soaking the bed? Tell me that now I will not have to cut food up nor feed him. Tell me he can walk better than yesterday.
As the therapist was using plastic, empty cones, laying them on the floor and asking Al to pick them up, which he did, she looks at me with a big smile, and says see? he can do it. I said, yes, he can, the glass is empty. She looked at me and said nothing.
The therapist also said that he had a low-grade fever, and I have heard Al complain the past two days of having a dry mouth, even though he is a huge drinker of water. I told the nurse who came this afternoon what the therapist had said, so she listened to his lungs and took his temperature. Now the lungs are clear, and the temperature is only 97. I see nothing wrong, she says. I mentioned that all morning Al’s voice was raspy and I could hear something rattling when he talked. She advised me to keep an eye on it, but she thought nothing was wrong.
My coffee pot went on the blink this morning right after making me my coffee, so I have to consider this an emergency, and with the therapist suggesting to buy Al a two-handled cup, I said we will get it today, because I must have my coffee.
We go to Wal-Mart and I buy us some lunch at the inside restaurant, Sub-Way, then after done, we go to the grocery aisles and get him some orange juice for breakfast, since he was out. Next, we went to the small appliance department and I saw the coffee maker that I had at home, but guess what, the only coffee makers they had on the shelves were the expensive ones. I glanced around to see if there were any employees around, and as usual, there was not.
I asked Al if he would like to go over to the toy aisle and pick out a cheap car, that cheap is what he could afford this week after buying an expensive car last week. I asked him if he remembered how to get to that department, and he nodded yes to both questions.
He left on his scooter and I grabbed the first employee walking by, and I guess I was not very nice, because I asked her why is it every time I come here to get something much-needed, all the shelves are empty except the expensive ones. I reminded her that with the economy being so bad, they needed to keep the shelves stocked with the common priced ones. She didn’t deserve it, and why I acted that way, I am not sure, but she did go back to the back and look but came out empty-handed.
I did not want to tackle getting Al in and out of the car more than I had to, so I picked out one of the brands I like that was common priced, but it had no timer on it, so now I have to start it in the morning instead of waking up to heavenly coffee. Oh well, it won’t kill me, but it was a nice luxury for me.
I then went over to where Al was and he had a pile of cheap cars in his cart. I think my eyes bugged out, there were so many. I explained that we could not have more than one today, and he said he didn’t know that, that he had heard me say cheap, which each one was $3.59, not bad price, but over $.99, but when you add up several, it cost a lot! He started crying saying he had messed up again,and that his brain is so confused. I told him to pick out the coolest one of all, and he could have that one, but needed to put the rest back, which he did, with no fuss. He kept telling me he just didn’t understand, and I believe him, other wise he would have been throwing a fit to keep all of them, but he did not do that.
So tonight during supper, we were both eating and he tells me the bucket is missing. I ask him what bucket and he says the grey bucket. My mind is going to the movie I just watched yesterday, the Bucket List, and he says it is missing. I question him some more, and then I got it. He was saying to me that the bucket for the commode was missing.
All of a sudden I put my fork down, as I was no longer hungry, because my mind was picturing the mess I was in for when I went in to his bedroom. I went in there and saw no urine on the floor and sighed a sigh of relief. I lifted up the lid, and the lid was on the bucket, but the lid was full of pee. He had peed on the lid thinking it was the bucket.
When he finished his last bite, I told him the bucket was there, and he argued no it was not, and so I took him in and showed him the urine on the lid, and he said that I had placed the bucket back for him,and asked who’s pee was that. I told him that the lid was on top of the bucket and he had accidentally peed on the lid instead of taking the lid off peeing in the bucket. He cried again, and asked me what is wrong with his brain, that it is all messed up. I told him not to worry, that it was an accident, and I would clean it up. He walked out of his room crying and asking himself why he can’t remember things and why he screws up all the time, and then he looked back at me with big tears, and said, I really try Terry, I really do try.
I started crying immediately. My heart was breaking. I felt his pain and embarrassment. On one hand you have therapists and nurses saying he is improving, but in other areas they are deteriorating. Dementia is moving in faster and faster, he could pick up an empty, plastic cone with the therapist, but at supper he could not pick up a plastic half-filled glass. He cries wanting to know why he is messed up, and he didn’t realize prices at the stores.
I don’t know how to feel anymore, I feel confused. I tell myself to get hard-hearted, but I struggle with that. Nurses and doctors say he is in the beginning stages of five, the final stage. The nurse tells me today, to expect things to move quicker now, and that tremors can almost disappear in the fifth stage. All I know is Al is sick, and his body is changing and so is his mind, and as bad as I want to believe that he is improving, I only see him getting worse, when you look at the whole picture.
Who I am 