The older I get the more I have to correct some of my thinking. I guess it is never too late.
I have been (at times) judgemental about things which I now find out may have been a wrong perception on my part.
Take the case of rest homes. I have walked in some and down the hall I would get a whiff of urine smell which would stop my appetite for a few days. I would think this a very bad sign for a neglecting place.
I had to change that call. Since husband has problems during the night (only that so far) I will wake up around 5 in the am and sniff. Then I really wake up and know that he had a major leakage problem -regardless of the strongest Depends-
can't wait till he wakes up and I strip the bed , turn on the fan, spray the Lysoll and go wash the beddings.
Soon the odor is gone but ...think of it...if you have room after room with people who have that problem 24/7. It must be quite a job to try and stay on top of it. Perhaps I should not be so upset with the caregivers in that place. Perhaps a closer look is needed.
For decades I loathed tattoos. I was told as a kid in Europe that it was for sailors and merchant marines. Fine. Let them have it , a girls name from every port or simply "Mother" when they even would forget her birthday.
Then I started to think this was for Hell's Angels on big bikes. Perhaps even a Wrestler or two. OK so I can deal with that. They are not in my immediate family so I do not have to look at them.
Then one Christmas eve my son showed me his tattoo. Surprise Mom! He and a buddy had done a video of the whole procedure. What fun Mom, it was for class work.
Sure it was!!!!!! I was very upset to say the least.
As time went on and I became a tad more tolerant , in my life came a creature who was almost covered with tattoos.
She had a lovely face , she was very bright with all sorts of diploma's , she did not ride a big bike nor did she wrestle.
She helped people who could not help themselves. She ran group homes with love and care. WOW.
In time I let go of all my thoughts about tattoos, one way or another. Got addicted to show L A Ink and wondered why they had so "scared" me. Had to drop that judgmental attitude !
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
A shave, come to my barber shop
This is actually funny.
You guys know by now that I tell it like it is.
Scenario last night:
Husband needs a shave, this 5 o clock shadow business now so popular in Hollywood does not do a thing for him.
On Brad and George it is heavenly on my old Bob it is
"hobo like".
As soon as he sees the electric shaver he runs to the bedroom: No No No.
I say: Yes Yes Yes
the fist are forming and I stay at a safe distance but I KNOW that I have to do this.
I catch him without getting hit and push him onto the bed.
If we were youngsters you would now wait for the rest of the story but we are "late seniors" whatever that means. So cool it, this is not a porno site.
I push him down into the mattress and he screams that I am killing him, he does remember about killings (1 good point for the day) I push the face to the side and shave cheek to the right and then reverse it all. Can't touch the moustache nor chin but at least 2 shiny cheeks.
I just would like a video of this, it must look like some film noir a French director would plot.
AT last I got something done till the next time and a new technique.
He got up walked into the kitchen turned around and kissed me. He already forgot that I straddled him onto the bed for
a closer shave. Welcome to my world.
You guys know by now that I tell it like it is.
Scenario last night:
Husband needs a shave, this 5 o clock shadow business now so popular in Hollywood does not do a thing for him.
On Brad and George it is heavenly on my old Bob it is
"hobo like".
As soon as he sees the electric shaver he runs to the bedroom: No No No.
I say: Yes Yes Yes
the fist are forming and I stay at a safe distance but I KNOW that I have to do this.
I catch him without getting hit and push him onto the bed.
If we were youngsters you would now wait for the rest of the story but we are "late seniors" whatever that means. So cool it, this is not a porno site.
I push him down into the mattress and he screams that I am killing him, he does remember about killings (1 good point for the day) I push the face to the side and shave cheek to the right and then reverse it all. Can't touch the moustache nor chin but at least 2 shiny cheeks.
I just would like a video of this, it must look like some film noir a French director would plot.
AT last I got something done till the next time and a new technique.
He got up walked into the kitchen turned around and kissed me. He already forgot that I straddled him onto the bed for
a closer shave. Welcome to my world.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
January 21 2010
Rhonda is ....., she has a birthday today!!!!
I am to cook the usual Flemish dinner for her
I can hardly keep my eyes open, this is going to be fun.
We mayhave to run t Burger King.
Old Bob kept me up.
He also was home for 5 days.
He had a drippy nose, I think allergies.
He does not remember how to use a tissue.
This morning did not want to go to the bus and day care....
guess what ? I pushed him in the bus!!!!
Bye Bye have a good time at day care, sing along or sleep all day. Not my problm for these hours.
Back to cooking, I will post pictures of this "party?"
I am to cook the usual Flemish dinner for her
I can hardly keep my eyes open, this is going to be fun.
We mayhave to run t Burger King.
Old Bob kept me up.
He also was home for 5 days.
He had a drippy nose, I think allergies.
He does not remember how to use a tissue.
This morning did not want to go to the bus and day care....
guess what ? I pushed him in the bus!!!!
Bye Bye have a good time at day care, sing along or sleep all day. Not my problm for these hours.
Back to cooking, I will post pictures of this "party?"
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
History in photos
Facebook was having old photo week so that got me started.
First photo I am 19 and my haute couture seamstresses (2 aunts) made me a gown in baby blue taffeta and tulle.
I am a new bride of 6 months and we have a gala ball to go too.
jump to the 1980's and I am back in school.
Loved auctioneering BUT did not know that you needed god lungs to work 3 hours at a time. I could not hack it !!!
I could help out but not be the major auctioneer.
I was devastated.
2007 back at work this time as auditor in Steinmart
I make employee of the year . voted by my co-workers and I am in 7th heaven. This was my best job ever.
I had to retire Jan 1 2009 and take over the tasks at home.
Last photo, together with 74 other W N C writers I am published in a book "Clothe Lines" edited and put together by Celia Miles who has quite a few books under her belt.
Life is good I will be 78 in a few months and there is still life ticking inside the old grey haired roof!
Monday, January 4, 2010
Dear Diary,
Remember when life was simple and you wrote : Dear Diary, everyone hates me, my mother is mean to me....blah blah blah." or something in the genre of "he smiled at me, does it mean he loves me?"
How simple was it all, or was it?
I once wrote a note that I missed my father (he had left us) and I got an enormous slap in the face from my Mother.
She was not supposed to find my note. We were too poor to have a diary book to write in but if I found paper, I would write on it. No matter that the butcher just brought a cheap sausage in it. No matter the fat or blood I would write notes.
I did not know that I was venting my feelings.
So here we are 7 decades later and I am still venting.
Dear blog,
the last 3 days were not easy.
No respite with day care.
I am worn out.
Last night he did not want to sleep in our bed, he wanted the people out of the living room, he did not like what I fixed for food, he continuously gave milk and people food to the dogs and I threw away more precious fresh food - read I am a ww2 products cant stand to throw away- . The 701.00 bill from a bad stomach on my dog is still laying heavy on my stomach.
So when he started to yap about this and that I should have (hate the" should" word ) been quiet but I was tired from him following me, being cold (it is 12 F outside-heater is very old-only gives out so much) so I yapped back and since we are now both deaf, it does get on people's nerves.
No not the imaginary people in the living room but the nerves of my son were also on the edge and he yelled at me to STOP. I said :"I am venting" and he answered :"Go vent on the phone to my sisters, I do not want to hear it".
First reaction was that I now was also angry at son. Then I thought about it in the calm of the night and figured that he has a point too. He no longer sees the father he loved so much and the father has been telling him every day to GET OUT! My responding to ridiculous Alzheimer talk is just ludicrous and I know it .
So I sit down the next morning (now) and write in my diary.......dear diary..................
How simple was it all, or was it?
I once wrote a note that I missed my father (he had left us) and I got an enormous slap in the face from my Mother.
She was not supposed to find my note. We were too poor to have a diary book to write in but if I found paper, I would write on it. No matter that the butcher just brought a cheap sausage in it. No matter the fat or blood I would write notes.
I did not know that I was venting my feelings.
So here we are 7 decades later and I am still venting.
Dear blog,
the last 3 days were not easy.
No respite with day care.
I am worn out.
Last night he did not want to sleep in our bed, he wanted the people out of the living room, he did not like what I fixed for food, he continuously gave milk and people food to the dogs and I threw away more precious fresh food - read I am a ww2 products cant stand to throw away- . The 701.00 bill from a bad stomach on my dog is still laying heavy on my stomach.
So when he started to yap about this and that I should have (hate the" should" word ) been quiet but I was tired from him following me, being cold (it is 12 F outside-heater is very old-only gives out so much) so I yapped back and since we are now both deaf, it does get on people's nerves.
No not the imaginary people in the living room but the nerves of my son were also on the edge and he yelled at me to STOP. I said :"I am venting" and he answered :"Go vent on the phone to my sisters, I do not want to hear it".
First reaction was that I now was also angry at son. Then I thought about it in the calm of the night and figured that he has a point too. He no longer sees the father he loved so much and the father has been telling him every day to GET OUT! My responding to ridiculous Alzheimer talk is just ludicrous and I know it .
So I sit down the next morning (now) and write in my diary.......dear diary..................
Sunday, January 3, 2010
books and more books
It seems that every other month another book shows up on how to live with Alzheimer's patients.
Om WowOwow this week there is a new one.
If I remember well it is written by a Mrs Fox.
Her suggestions albeit brief in that site is something all of us caregivers can write after 2 years experience.
Nothing new that I saw here.
I was not impressed but then in all honesty I did not read the whole book.
So many of them is just repetition and more repetition.
OK how much can you write about it?
They say if you know a person with Alzheimer/dementia then you know just one person. Fact is that a lot act out differently and yet there are always some similarities in the different stages.
This lady writes to tell us that holding hands in the nursing homes means that somehow the ill one will know and will be happy to have that experience.
Well, what about having them under foot 24/7 , feeding, changing diapers, washing when possible. Would that help too?
Holding hands, we often do in bed, he often reaches for my hand and we fall asleep that way. When in fact and truth be told I am still angry for what he did an hour ago. I try and gt over it and hold his hand because he wants it.
I think that it is important to read what you can about the legalities when the disease is diagnosed, get your papers in order, check out if there will be a possibility down the road for a rest home, get your financial house in order.
There are some books out there showing you step by step and that is extremely important.
When to give up driving is probably the hardest nut to crack.
Everyone is going to hold on to the driving, no matter how you slice it, you will have a battle on your hands.
From past experience I would say to get rid of the car if you can. I did not do that and it costs us a lot of grief even after 7 or so years. Gave the car to my son and my husband still checks the doors every day.
Understand that from this moment on:"Nothing will ever be the same for you and the afflicted".
I was told that by a man with experience and I hated it when he told me.
These words still ring in my ears and no greater truth was ever said to me.
Some people prefer to say that it is dementia not Alzheimer like that is a better price to win. Folks , you are just trying too hard , last we saw a specialist it was too expensive to do the final test and Medicare did not cover it but the good doctor told me that in any case they really do not know until they can do an autopsy. By then you do not care what it was, you have enough scares from caregiving.
Check out your books at the library and buy the one that helped you so you can go back to it time and time again or just take it all one day at the time....or one hour at the time...in 16 hours my husband will be on the bus to daycare...that I am doing one hour at the time.
Om WowOwow this week there is a new one.
If I remember well it is written by a Mrs Fox.
Her suggestions albeit brief in that site is something all of us caregivers can write after 2 years experience.
Nothing new that I saw here.
I was not impressed but then in all honesty I did not read the whole book.
So many of them is just repetition and more repetition.
OK how much can you write about it?
They say if you know a person with Alzheimer/dementia then you know just one person. Fact is that a lot act out differently and yet there are always some similarities in the different stages.
This lady writes to tell us that holding hands in the nursing homes means that somehow the ill one will know and will be happy to have that experience.
Well, what about having them under foot 24/7 , feeding, changing diapers, washing when possible. Would that help too?
Holding hands, we often do in bed, he often reaches for my hand and we fall asleep that way. When in fact and truth be told I am still angry for what he did an hour ago. I try and gt over it and hold his hand because he wants it.
I think that it is important to read what you can about the legalities when the disease is diagnosed, get your papers in order, check out if there will be a possibility down the road for a rest home, get your financial house in order.
There are some books out there showing you step by step and that is extremely important.
When to give up driving is probably the hardest nut to crack.
Everyone is going to hold on to the driving, no matter how you slice it, you will have a battle on your hands.
From past experience I would say to get rid of the car if you can. I did not do that and it costs us a lot of grief even after 7 or so years. Gave the car to my son and my husband still checks the doors every day.
Understand that from this moment on:"Nothing will ever be the same for you and the afflicted".
I was told that by a man with experience and I hated it when he told me.
These words still ring in my ears and no greater truth was ever said to me.
Some people prefer to say that it is dementia not Alzheimer like that is a better price to win. Folks , you are just trying too hard , last we saw a specialist it was too expensive to do the final test and Medicare did not cover it but the good doctor told me that in any case they really do not know until they can do an autopsy. By then you do not care what it was, you have enough scares from caregiving.
Check out your books at the library and buy the one that helped you so you can go back to it time and time again or just take it all one day at the time....or one hour at the time...in 16 hours my husband will be on the bus to daycare...that I am doing one hour at the time.
Now what?
Used to be the white sale came into wanting our dollars in January. Then the accountants are suddenly awake and telling us what to do with receipts , checks and balances because the tax man is a coming!
Now there are sales all the time, Turbo Tax will start their ads and people who are able to gt a refund will scramble to get it asap and help the ailing minusses from Christmas spending.
The heating bills are not creeping up but jumping higher and higher as this is already a bad winter for most of the country.
I always had this notion that when Chistmas was over with then spring was not very far. I fooled myself for years with that fantasy. This morning it was 12 F when Bijou wanted out , I did not have a thought about spring. I just watched where I was walking amidst the ice spots still here from a 2 week old storm. Falling is not on my schedule. At our age it can mean BIG trouble. I surely do not need more trouble in the health department.
Lung man said that I have a smidgeon of asthma.
I do not believe him at all.....no sir...not I.
BUT walking in the cold wind I found it very hard to breathe
and started to wonder.
I am not going to give in to that doctor.
Tomorrow there is relief, day care open again.
I will be delighted when I put Bob on the bus.
Delighted, I may make a dance.
He has been a pest, to say it gently and I am waiting to go into the bedroom to see if I have to strip it all down this morning. I am hoping for a NO.
The constant milk drinking and always a fresh glass gets on my nerves. I can't believe that he is that thirsty all the time. It looks like boredom to me, something to do.
The fact that the dishes tripple when he is home can't be changed. I try and try to tell him that he can use the same glass , that he just finished drinking 2 minutes ago but nothing is entering the brain and he repeats the whole scenario, fresh glass fresh milk. In 15 minutes he will repeat it. He used to love water, no more.
I should try and list some of my treasures on eBay, have not worked eBay in months and months. I too have over spent for the holidays but most of all Bijou getting ill and the old furnace in need of big help was my downfall.
OK so I shall go and look in the bedroom to see what is waiting for me.
Good day to every one.
Now there are sales all the time, Turbo Tax will start their ads and people who are able to gt a refund will scramble to get it asap and help the ailing minusses from Christmas spending.
The heating bills are not creeping up but jumping higher and higher as this is already a bad winter for most of the country.
I always had this notion that when Chistmas was over with then spring was not very far. I fooled myself for years with that fantasy. This morning it was 12 F when Bijou wanted out , I did not have a thought about spring. I just watched where I was walking amidst the ice spots still here from a 2 week old storm. Falling is not on my schedule. At our age it can mean BIG trouble. I surely do not need more trouble in the health department.
Lung man said that I have a smidgeon of asthma.
I do not believe him at all.....no sir...not I.
BUT walking in the cold wind I found it very hard to breathe
and started to wonder.
I am not going to give in to that doctor.
Tomorrow there is relief, day care open again.
I will be delighted when I put Bob on the bus.
Delighted, I may make a dance.
He has been a pest, to say it gently and I am waiting to go into the bedroom to see if I have to strip it all down this morning. I am hoping for a NO.
The constant milk drinking and always a fresh glass gets on my nerves. I can't believe that he is that thirsty all the time. It looks like boredom to me, something to do.
The fact that the dishes tripple when he is home can't be changed. I try and try to tell him that he can use the same glass , that he just finished drinking 2 minutes ago but nothing is entering the brain and he repeats the whole scenario, fresh glass fresh milk. In 15 minutes he will repeat it. He used to love water, no more.
I should try and list some of my treasures on eBay, have not worked eBay in months and months. I too have over spent for the holidays but most of all Bijou getting ill and the old furnace in need of big help was my downfall.
OK so I shall go and look in the bedroom to see what is waiting for me.
Good day to every one.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Happy New Year
2010
what will it bring?
looked up last year
it was my last day at work.
That is to say outside the house work.
I am thinking that I work enough in this house.
I have become part Chinese with the large amounts of laundry -read: bed changes-daily-
I eat out one meal a week when we go grocery shopping, Mina , or Rhonda and I.
All the other meals prepared at home and I have become
an expert at both "mushy food" - no teeth Bob- and
whatever pleases picky eater son. I am starting to cook for me. Hard to do, I am always cooking for an army.
Across the street a party is in full swing.
New Year day party. Young folks, baby on the way.
I look at all the cars parked and I have to smile, inside and outside.
I am happy with my memories of "been there , done that, wear the T shirt".
Happy now to have a T shirt that tells me it is OK to be whatever I want to be and do whatever I want to do.
Of course also taking in consideration that I am a care giver.
There are some curves in the road and sometimes mountains to climb but I am very lucky as I am in good health.
All things considered.
Lost a lot of hair this year, a lot, thyroid meds and problems with it are no help. Wig shop? I may need it.
Back on WW and managed 15 lbs less so far.
I can walk up the hill without panting, that is a plus.
Have a nice roof over my head and the heater is helping me by continuing to work so....who can complain?
Most of all I have 3 kids who are near and dear, not many people can say that. Not many for sure.
We all love each other too. My help from them is enormous.
I am thinking that 2010 may be just fine.
Happy day to all!!!!
what will it bring?
looked up last year
it was my last day at work.
That is to say outside the house work.
I am thinking that I work enough in this house.
I have become part Chinese with the large amounts of laundry -read: bed changes-daily-
I eat out one meal a week when we go grocery shopping, Mina , or Rhonda and I.
All the other meals prepared at home and I have become
an expert at both "mushy food" - no teeth Bob- and
whatever pleases picky eater son. I am starting to cook for me. Hard to do, I am always cooking for an army.
Across the street a party is in full swing.
New Year day party. Young folks, baby on the way.
I look at all the cars parked and I have to smile, inside and outside.
I am happy with my memories of "been there , done that, wear the T shirt".
Happy now to have a T shirt that tells me it is OK to be whatever I want to be and do whatever I want to do.
Of course also taking in consideration that I am a care giver.
There are some curves in the road and sometimes mountains to climb but I am very lucky as I am in good health.
All things considered.
Lost a lot of hair this year, a lot, thyroid meds and problems with it are no help. Wig shop? I may need it.
Back on WW and managed 15 lbs less so far.
I can walk up the hill without panting, that is a plus.
Have a nice roof over my head and the heater is helping me by continuing to work so....who can complain?
Most of all I have 3 kids who are near and dear, not many people can say that. Not many for sure.
We all love each other too. My help from them is enormous.
I am thinking that 2010 may be just fine.
Happy day to all!!!!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
enf of 2009
Going to check what I wrote a year ago but I do not think that I was figuring on having my worst year yet.
In a way I truly had a lot of help via the VA. Bob is in day care. That should have sufficed to send me singing like a bird and have time to myself.
Somehow, somewhere, I became more and more tired and had less compassion (afraid to say) less patience, less money,
ans was faced with the downhill of the AD disease.
Bob became more violent, a big surprise to me, this was a very gentle man. More distance between him and the family.
I became "she" or the woman and Bobby became more and more hated.
The scenes of anger, frustration became more frequent on all sides. I think he is just as tired of this new mind which does not remember what happened 2 seconds ago.
Imagine for one second if my old and dearest friend would suddenly see a film with him in a rage. How would he feel? He would be devastated. He would be so sorry that he handled us that way, but he does not know.
The cliche , of course, is always "it is not him, it is the disease". Hard for me to put this all together at times.
I also can't understand the word "closure" Guess I need a shrink.
The thyroid is not helping, that plays a big part with being tired and sometimes just exhausted.
I am hoping for a better understanding of it all in 2010.
We are going in the 13th year. I should be used to it by
now/. We never get used to it- is the answer.
In a way I truly had a lot of help via the VA. Bob is in day care. That should have sufficed to send me singing like a bird and have time to myself.
Somehow, somewhere, I became more and more tired and had less compassion (afraid to say) less patience, less money,
ans was faced with the downhill of the AD disease.
Bob became more violent, a big surprise to me, this was a very gentle man. More distance between him and the family.
I became "she" or the woman and Bobby became more and more hated.
The scenes of anger, frustration became more frequent on all sides. I think he is just as tired of this new mind which does not remember what happened 2 seconds ago.
Imagine for one second if my old and dearest friend would suddenly see a film with him in a rage. How would he feel? He would be devastated. He would be so sorry that he handled us that way, but he does not know.
The cliche , of course, is always "it is not him, it is the disease". Hard for me to put this all together at times.
I also can't understand the word "closure" Guess I need a shrink.
The thyroid is not helping, that plays a big part with being tired and sometimes just exhausted.
I am hoping for a better understanding of it all in 2010.
We are going in the 13th year. I should be used to it by
now/. We never get used to it- is the answer.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
catching up
It has been awhile since I blogged.
Reason:
This was and is a blog about my experiences as a 24/7 caregiver to my husband who has Alzheimer.
We are entering the 13th year since his diagnoses.
He is healthy of body and the mind is gone to another land.
This past year was my worst year.
Perhaps because I am worn out.
Perhaps because there I am just too tired all the time to fight it.
Perhaps I have not much left to give.
Perhaps I feel to sorry for myself.
Perhaps it is all becoming too much to my own
memory bank and the concerns that amidst being so immersed in a hundred things to remember that I am concerned about being next.
My respite this year was great, 4 days I was gone.
Daughter Sabrina took in old dad and the other two kids helped too.
There was surprise on all fronts about how much attention is needed.
I was invited to a special birthday for a special friend. She lives in Mass.
Her children paid for my trip and off I flew to
the North.
I was surprised to be among people who do not have to watch someone.
I had time to just sit and ponder, have a glass of wine, cheese and just talk with my best friend.
I could sleep as long as I wanted, did not have to wake up and wonder if the other side of the bed was empty.
I could get used to that.
This year there was violence. Unexpected , totally out of character, but there it was.
Aslap on the face, the ear red and in pain and I could not imagine that this little guy did this to me.
Where was my gentle , ever nice to me, husband.
More medication from the VA and it helps a bit but anything (visitors) can set him off.
A light which he thinks should not be on and
the swinging of the arms start.
I have learned what to look for and how to avoid the blows.
He hit son too. Then again he thinks we are strangers.
So why did I not blog?
I just did not want to bring down the whole world with my sour words , tearful phrases, begging for better days.
Having said that , if you are reading this and you are taking care of someone then you know how I feel and you will know you are not alone in this fight for survival.
I keep telling myself that there is life after A.
I do not want to go first, that would cause chaos in my family.
So I started to diet and try and be healthier the hard part is the mental part.
They, meaning, all involved in this illness keep saying that we have to take care of ourselves first.
If we don't too many of us will become ill.
So I am trying.
We had a nice Christmas eve and he looks good in the photos because the new medication also enhences his appetite. So I already had to purchase new pants as the waist was expanding.
I wish all of you a terrific New Year.
May you have peace in your hearts.
May you dream pleasant dreams.
May you have travel to experience the world around you.
May you be healthier than last year.
May you be prosperous.
May you love the job you are in or find the best one yet.
May all your loved ones be there with you and for you.
My list could go on forever but you got the picture
Happy New Year
Reason:
This was and is a blog about my experiences as a 24/7 caregiver to my husband who has Alzheimer.
We are entering the 13th year since his diagnoses.
He is healthy of body and the mind is gone to another land.
This past year was my worst year.
Perhaps because I am worn out.
Perhaps because there I am just too tired all the time to fight it.
Perhaps I have not much left to give.
Perhaps I feel to sorry for myself.
Perhaps it is all becoming too much to my own
memory bank and the concerns that amidst being so immersed in a hundred things to remember that I am concerned about being next.
My respite this year was great, 4 days I was gone.
Daughter Sabrina took in old dad and the other two kids helped too.
There was surprise on all fronts about how much attention is needed.
I was invited to a special birthday for a special friend. She lives in Mass.
Her children paid for my trip and off I flew to
the North.
I was surprised to be among people who do not have to watch someone.
I had time to just sit and ponder, have a glass of wine, cheese and just talk with my best friend.
I could sleep as long as I wanted, did not have to wake up and wonder if the other side of the bed was empty.
I could get used to that.
This year there was violence. Unexpected , totally out of character, but there it was.
Aslap on the face, the ear red and in pain and I could not imagine that this little guy did this to me.
Where was my gentle , ever nice to me, husband.
More medication from the VA and it helps a bit but anything (visitors) can set him off.
A light which he thinks should not be on and
the swinging of the arms start.
I have learned what to look for and how to avoid the blows.
He hit son too. Then again he thinks we are strangers.
So why did I not blog?
I just did not want to bring down the whole world with my sour words , tearful phrases, begging for better days.
Having said that , if you are reading this and you are taking care of someone then you know how I feel and you will know you are not alone in this fight for survival.
I keep telling myself that there is life after A.
I do not want to go first, that would cause chaos in my family.
So I started to diet and try and be healthier the hard part is the mental part.
They, meaning, all involved in this illness keep saying that we have to take care of ourselves first.
If we don't too many of us will become ill.
So I am trying.
We had a nice Christmas eve and he looks good in the photos because the new medication also enhences his appetite. So I already had to purchase new pants as the waist was expanding.
I wish all of you a terrific New Year.
May you have peace in your hearts.
May you dream pleasant dreams.
May you have travel to experience the world around you.
May you be healthier than last year.
May you be prosperous.
May you love the job you are in or find the best one yet.
May all your loved ones be there with you and for you.
My list could go on forever but you got the picture
Happy New Year
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Holidays
I am not alone to have the blues around this time of the year.
Yesterday I was looking for something small which old Bob would probably give me for Christmas.
We no longer were giving presents to each other before he became ill but he would make little cards with funny drawings or such. Paper flowers he did often.
Nothing did catch my eye, I just wanted to put something under the tree that would say :OK I am still here.
Truth is hard to swallow, he is n't here.
That reminded me of all the angst I am having to give something to my family and still stay within my budget-read :not overdraw at the bank-
Then again I came across my Christmas story written several years ago and I will repeat it again for my own sake to
remember that the importance of our life is our family around us. When I think that I came here a new bride and now I have 6 grandsons , my kids, and a fabulous son in law.
I am not alone, I have a great bunch of human beings around me who support me night and day. A better Christmas present than that is impossible.
But here was my very best Christmas in 1944:
My best Christmas ever.
Often people ask about your best Christmas memory and this is mine.
Could not ever be duplicated no matter how many Christmases I will live to see.
Christmas Eve 1944
Gent, Belgium
I am 12, mother is 34. She is recovering from a major surgery and a husband who has left her for another woman just a few months ago.
We are finally liberated , we in the north welcomed the allies in September.
In the Southern part, in the gorgeous mountains, hills and forest another battle is in full swing. It becomes to be known as the Battle of the Bulge.
Our gorgeous Ardennes are being mutilated. Worse hundreds of lives if not thousands on all sides of this horrific war are falling in the fresh wet snow.
Mom and I are not aware of this battle, we hear very little of what is going on outside our newly freed Provinces.
We are alone in our very cold house, windows broken covered with lumber,
water rats moved in what used to be our bedrooms.
The roof is shattered in many places from the bombing and air raids.
The wood/coal stove only produces so much heat as we huddle around it
covered in blankets.
Mother is lonely; she is sad, alone for this Christmas for the first time since
her marriages of 16 years. She is still feeling ill. War had not made her
skinny, she is a full fleshed Flemish woman like you see in Rubens renditions.
She lived on potatoes and onion gravy; we are yet to see some meat coming
in our tables but for the grace of the few Americans who are helping us.
So this brave lady who was together with her little family in grave danger all
through the war is now struggling with a new reality. She had been the radio
communicator with the Brits in her bedroom. She was fluent in the language,
thanks to a good education and was my father’s right hand in the underground fight
of what we called “the white brigade”.
She had welcomed the soldiers who parachuted in the night and gave them
clothing and food for the next stop. She had sent her only child to school when
she was wondering if a new air raid would come today, eliminating the factory
and the village. She never knew what the day would bring.
That first Christmas eve when all around us was changed and yet nothing
had changed at all. We were still seeing planes come and go over our heads and
we still saw the air battles, we did not know for sure how far the Germans were and would
they return? In our hearts however we felt that all was going to be fine.
We had hope for the first time in what seemed eternity.
With this in mind Mother decided we should spent Christmas Eve at her sister’s house in town. That was 9 km away (almost 6 miles).
The excitement got a hold of both of us and with enormous energy and good cheer we left the old stove to warm up the rats and started our journey along the
cold waters of the Canal of Terneuzen.
We had walked this foot path for years, I think we knew where there would be a dip in the dirt and mud under the fresh snow, we knew where a large stone would stick out and how to avoid falling in that narrow strip next to the canal.
Next to it was the bicycle path but that worse in need of filling the larger holes.
Even in the dark night we knew our way.
I can still see the cold fog over the water, piercing cold in our bones.
My shoes too tight. I was always growing too fast and my feet were the
first to show the signs.
We started to sing , she could sing , I could barely keep a tune.
But we sang with our vocal chords in full orchestra mode and in the silence
we go from “the Yankees are coming” to “Belle nuit de Noel” and “Petit Papa Noel “.
Along the canal there was only industry, we lived in a lonely little house about 100 yards from an electrical plant. Most plants at this point where not working, almost all had been bombed. The silence along the water was eerie, as the little bit of snow would fall intermittently. Now and then an army truck would drive by on the road and soldiers would yell “Merry Christmas”, some had other messages too.
First time we both heard F word, mother honestly had never heard that one at the
convent where she had studied. She was very puzzled, what did it all mean?
Very few Belgians had cars at that point, perhaps a few doctors.
Only army was on the road, day in and day out.
We were used to that but these camouflaged tanks were a much loved sight.
By the time we reached the blown up bridge of Meulestede we crossed the canal on a makeshift bridge and started to walk between the streets lined with houses.
Here and there one could see lights and the cozy interior of people celebrating.
Mother stopped and told me to look and listen with my heart at the sights and sounds.
“You know Jeannot , she whispered, this is what is called “freedom”.
You see we are finally allowed on the street at night, we are finally allowed to have lights coming out from the houses, that means this is our first Christmas
in many years of total freedom. “
“Freedom means we can now just walk to Tante while watching the stars and
singing, we can peak in the windows and see people with bright lights shining on their faces. Jeannot, never forget this moment”.
I did n’t, I can still see it, I can still smell it, I can feel it in my heart.
Mother was disappointed that we could not get to a midnight mass on our way
but all the churches were still closed. Perhaps no one had wanted to come out
or perhaps the new army had told them to cool it for awhile, I do not know but we passed several churches and no service.
I started to slow down and she found a way of making me go a little faster.
Where she saw light in the houses she rang the doorbell and started to run away.
I had no choice but to run after her and hide around the next corner.
That way we got to my Tante in a jiffy.
I can see the gate at my Tantes house and lights turning on for the
night visitors. No phone to tell them we were coming but the welcome
was heartwarming.
My cousins came out of bed to hug us and I could crawl in bed next to them
tell them about my adventure of the night. No rats here, no damage to their house, they were blessed. I was in heaven close to giggling bodies and it is Christmas.
I do not remember one present given that Christmas, I doubt that we had any
at all but I am still feeling the joy of that night.
The songs come back to me. Belle Nuit.....Petit enfant Jesus.....
Au clair de la lune mon ami Pierot. ................................
Merry Christmas Mom, Tante, wherever you are.
Goeden nacht, zalige nacht.
Yesterday I was looking for something small which old Bob would probably give me for Christmas.
We no longer were giving presents to each other before he became ill but he would make little cards with funny drawings or such. Paper flowers he did often.
Nothing did catch my eye, I just wanted to put something under the tree that would say :OK I am still here.
Truth is hard to swallow, he is n't here.
That reminded me of all the angst I am having to give something to my family and still stay within my budget-read :not overdraw at the bank-
Then again I came across my Christmas story written several years ago and I will repeat it again for my own sake to
remember that the importance of our life is our family around us. When I think that I came here a new bride and now I have 6 grandsons , my kids, and a fabulous son in law.
I am not alone, I have a great bunch of human beings around me who support me night and day. A better Christmas present than that is impossible.
But here was my very best Christmas in 1944:
My best Christmas ever.
Often people ask about your best Christmas memory and this is mine.
Could not ever be duplicated no matter how many Christmases I will live to see.
Christmas Eve 1944
Gent, Belgium
I am 12, mother is 34. She is recovering from a major surgery and a husband who has left her for another woman just a few months ago.
We are finally liberated , we in the north welcomed the allies in September.
In the Southern part, in the gorgeous mountains, hills and forest another battle is in full swing. It becomes to be known as the Battle of the Bulge.
Our gorgeous Ardennes are being mutilated. Worse hundreds of lives if not thousands on all sides of this horrific war are falling in the fresh wet snow.
Mom and I are not aware of this battle, we hear very little of what is going on outside our newly freed Provinces.
We are alone in our very cold house, windows broken covered with lumber,
water rats moved in what used to be our bedrooms.
The roof is shattered in many places from the bombing and air raids.
The wood/coal stove only produces so much heat as we huddle around it
covered in blankets.
Mother is lonely; she is sad, alone for this Christmas for the first time since
her marriages of 16 years. She is still feeling ill. War had not made her
skinny, she is a full fleshed Flemish woman like you see in Rubens renditions.
She lived on potatoes and onion gravy; we are yet to see some meat coming
in our tables but for the grace of the few Americans who are helping us.
So this brave lady who was together with her little family in grave danger all
through the war is now struggling with a new reality. She had been the radio
communicator with the Brits in her bedroom. She was fluent in the language,
thanks to a good education and was my father’s right hand in the underground fight
of what we called “the white brigade”.
She had welcomed the soldiers who parachuted in the night and gave them
clothing and food for the next stop. She had sent her only child to school when
she was wondering if a new air raid would come today, eliminating the factory
and the village. She never knew what the day would bring.
That first Christmas eve when all around us was changed and yet nothing
had changed at all. We were still seeing planes come and go over our heads and
we still saw the air battles, we did not know for sure how far the Germans were and would
they return? In our hearts however we felt that all was going to be fine.
We had hope for the first time in what seemed eternity.
With this in mind Mother decided we should spent Christmas Eve at her sister’s house in town. That was 9 km away (almost 6 miles).
The excitement got a hold of both of us and with enormous energy and good cheer we left the old stove to warm up the rats and started our journey along the
cold waters of the Canal of Terneuzen.
We had walked this foot path for years, I think we knew where there would be a dip in the dirt and mud under the fresh snow, we knew where a large stone would stick out and how to avoid falling in that narrow strip next to the canal.
Next to it was the bicycle path but that worse in need of filling the larger holes.
Even in the dark night we knew our way.
I can still see the cold fog over the water, piercing cold in our bones.
My shoes too tight. I was always growing too fast and my feet were the
first to show the signs.
We started to sing , she could sing , I could barely keep a tune.
But we sang with our vocal chords in full orchestra mode and in the silence
we go from “the Yankees are coming” to “Belle nuit de Noel” and “Petit Papa Noel “.
Along the canal there was only industry, we lived in a lonely little house about 100 yards from an electrical plant. Most plants at this point where not working, almost all had been bombed. The silence along the water was eerie, as the little bit of snow would fall intermittently. Now and then an army truck would drive by on the road and soldiers would yell “Merry Christmas”, some had other messages too.
First time we both heard F word, mother honestly had never heard that one at the
convent where she had studied. She was very puzzled, what did it all mean?
Very few Belgians had cars at that point, perhaps a few doctors.
Only army was on the road, day in and day out.
We were used to that but these camouflaged tanks were a much loved sight.
By the time we reached the blown up bridge of Meulestede we crossed the canal on a makeshift bridge and started to walk between the streets lined with houses.
Here and there one could see lights and the cozy interior of people celebrating.
Mother stopped and told me to look and listen with my heart at the sights and sounds.
“You know Jeannot , she whispered, this is what is called “freedom”.
You see we are finally allowed on the street at night, we are finally allowed to have lights coming out from the houses, that means this is our first Christmas
in many years of total freedom. “
“Freedom means we can now just walk to Tante while watching the stars and
singing, we can peak in the windows and see people with bright lights shining on their faces. Jeannot, never forget this moment”.
I did n’t, I can still see it, I can still smell it, I can feel it in my heart.
Mother was disappointed that we could not get to a midnight mass on our way
but all the churches were still closed. Perhaps no one had wanted to come out
or perhaps the new army had told them to cool it for awhile, I do not know but we passed several churches and no service.
I started to slow down and she found a way of making me go a little faster.
Where she saw light in the houses she rang the doorbell and started to run away.
I had no choice but to run after her and hide around the next corner.
That way we got to my Tante in a jiffy.
I can see the gate at my Tantes house and lights turning on for the
night visitors. No phone to tell them we were coming but the welcome
was heartwarming.
My cousins came out of bed to hug us and I could crawl in bed next to them
tell them about my adventure of the night. No rats here, no damage to their house, they were blessed. I was in heaven close to giggling bodies and it is Christmas.
I do not remember one present given that Christmas, I doubt that we had any
at all but I am still feeling the joy of that night.
The songs come back to me. Belle Nuit.....Petit enfant Jesus.....
Au clair de la lune mon ami Pierot. ................................
Merry Christmas Mom, Tante, wherever you are.
Goeden nacht, zalige nacht.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
November 19 is this spring?
It is balmy outside, feels like spring.
One wonders why the leaves are still falling.
There should be new ones up there.
Enjoy while we can, we all know it is coming.
at least this too will help with heating bills.
Walking the dogs was a real pleasure, I did not
feel like coming inside.
Of course I still have oodles to do before the work
begins on the house.
I am looking forward for next week's outing.
Rhonda has invited me to the employee Christmas party
inside the "house" with a dinner for all and presents for
children.
The "house" of course is Biltmore House in Asheville.
The grand old dame is decked with thousands of lights, Christmas trees and decorations.
Two of our own creations are on display there.
Commissioned in the 1980's by the staff, we made old Father Christmas figures with Victorian toys and fabrics.
I have been there in the summer for employee parties but they are outside. This time inside will be a great treat.
They do not skimp on the food either.
Biltmore is a great attraction in the Christmas season, it is worth to come and see it if you are close by.
So it will be a fun week.
Yesterday Bob was all confused when he came home from the day care. He wanted to go back on the bus. Did not know the house nor us at all. A few hours later he turned violent put his fist out to his son but Bobby was faster and could stop it mid air.
The whole night he was awake, this had not happened before
so he got up and out, up and out, dressed and undressed and went roaming about the house. Son was up till 4 and watching him. Every time I opened my eyes he was there next to me and staring at me.
I am thinking the new meds took different turn.
Of course they are on trial.
we shall see what this evening brings.
One wonders why the leaves are still falling.
There should be new ones up there.
Enjoy while we can, we all know it is coming.
at least this too will help with heating bills.
Walking the dogs was a real pleasure, I did not
feel like coming inside.
Of course I still have oodles to do before the work
begins on the house.
I am looking forward for next week's outing.
Rhonda has invited me to the employee Christmas party
inside the "house" with a dinner for all and presents for
children.
The "house" of course is Biltmore House in Asheville.
The grand old dame is decked with thousands of lights, Christmas trees and decorations.
Two of our own creations are on display there.
Commissioned in the 1980's by the staff, we made old Father Christmas figures with Victorian toys and fabrics.
I have been there in the summer for employee parties but they are outside. This time inside will be a great treat.
They do not skimp on the food either.
Biltmore is a great attraction in the Christmas season, it is worth to come and see it if you are close by.
So it will be a fun week.
Yesterday Bob was all confused when he came home from the day care. He wanted to go back on the bus. Did not know the house nor us at all. A few hours later he turned violent put his fist out to his son but Bobby was faster and could stop it mid air.
The whole night he was awake, this had not happened before
so he got up and out, up and out, dressed and undressed and went roaming about the house. Son was up till 4 and watching him. Every time I opened my eyes he was there next to me and staring at me.
I am thinking the new meds took different turn.
Of course they are on trial.
we shall see what this evening brings.
Monday, November 16, 2009
about being blessed
People use the word "blessed" in many circumstances.
It is used too often or when I feel it is not truly appropriate.
Lately I have been getting emails or statements on FB telling me how blessed I am. Blessed that I still have my husband.
Blessed? Really?
Obviously these are well meaning people with a smidgen of and often too much religious fervor. If I was still a member of the Catholic church I would not feel blessed but perhaps welcome the idea that I am suffering-hence there will be a reward-somewhere sometime, suffering is good.....Mother Theresa loved it. OK, I am no longer there . I have fallen from graces or just grew up, I can't remember.
In any case , lets take this apart.
Where is the blessing?
I am truly searching here.
Would you think it to be a blessing if you, your husband, your wife, your mother, your father, your kids, would receive the news from the man in a white coat. The news that you have an incurable disease. Wow,.that would hit anyone between the eyes. But the good man tells you, you may have this for the next 20 years before you die. Aha! Maybe there is the blessing, twenty years , we can handle that.
Not so fast, what if the person would know from in the beginning (most are too advanced by the time of diagnosis to understand) that he/she will be stripped of all control, stripped of their thoughts, stripped of their memories, stripped of all the tomorrows- no matter how long you will live.
What if you understood that you will spit and slobber while you eat? Would you still be thinking of that nice restaurant you once love? What is you knew that slowly the body functions are no longer registering in your mind, you need someone to clean you like when you were a baby, you need diapers.
How would the sick one think that was a blessing?
What if you could understand that the mild , loving person you always have been turns into a violent person, one who hits, scratches, screams. Would that ill person like to become that?
What would anyone think that they never want to be bathed, that water becomes the enemy and you fight with all your might not to be cleaned. Would that be a Blessing? -I think not-.
From experience we know that in that state of mind you accuse every soul around you as being a thief, everyone steals from you. Surely this paranoia can't be a blessing for you.
The stories continue , too many to mention, the years hang on. Near the end you forget how to swallow and slowly forget how to breathe. Would anyone in their right mind tell that person that he/she is blessed?
Then comes the blessings sent to me , the caregiver,because I am so lucky to still have a husband.
Ouch! I still have a husband? Think again. The man who walks here in this house does not know his wife, his children, his grandchildren, not even the dogs.
Often I am told to leave the bed, he does not sleep with strangers. Lately the hitting has started until we needed
stronger medicine, now he is just zombie like with a manic laugh. Everything now is a matter of laughing or yelling, no in between.
I was surprised when my water bill had doubled, why? I asked. It is not from all the showers he is taking, no dear caregiver it is from the daily changes of the soaking sheets towels and mattress covers. That is a pile of laundry every morning. The water company is blessed, the laundry lady is not very happy remaking and remaking a Queen size bed.
No, I would not call it blessed.
I could write a book about it all and not once would I have to admit that this was all a blessing. I do not give a hoot where you find that the word would fit, it does not fit for me nor for my husband who is now a walking stranger in his house.
It is used too often or when I feel it is not truly appropriate.
Lately I have been getting emails or statements on FB telling me how blessed I am. Blessed that I still have my husband.
Blessed? Really?
Obviously these are well meaning people with a smidgen of and often too much religious fervor. If I was still a member of the Catholic church I would not feel blessed but perhaps welcome the idea that I am suffering-hence there will be a reward-somewhere sometime, suffering is good.....Mother Theresa loved it. OK, I am no longer there . I have fallen from graces or just grew up, I can't remember.
In any case , lets take this apart.
Where is the blessing?
I am truly searching here.
Would you think it to be a blessing if you, your husband, your wife, your mother, your father, your kids, would receive the news from the man in a white coat. The news that you have an incurable disease. Wow,.that would hit anyone between the eyes. But the good man tells you, you may have this for the next 20 years before you die. Aha! Maybe there is the blessing, twenty years , we can handle that.
Not so fast, what if the person would know from in the beginning (most are too advanced by the time of diagnosis to understand) that he/she will be stripped of all control, stripped of their thoughts, stripped of their memories, stripped of all the tomorrows- no matter how long you will live.
What if you understood that you will spit and slobber while you eat? Would you still be thinking of that nice restaurant you once love? What is you knew that slowly the body functions are no longer registering in your mind, you need someone to clean you like when you were a baby, you need diapers.
How would the sick one think that was a blessing?
What if you could understand that the mild , loving person you always have been turns into a violent person, one who hits, scratches, screams. Would that ill person like to become that?
What would anyone think that they never want to be bathed, that water becomes the enemy and you fight with all your might not to be cleaned. Would that be a Blessing? -I think not-.
From experience we know that in that state of mind you accuse every soul around you as being a thief, everyone steals from you. Surely this paranoia can't be a blessing for you.
The stories continue , too many to mention, the years hang on. Near the end you forget how to swallow and slowly forget how to breathe. Would anyone in their right mind tell that person that he/she is blessed?
Then comes the blessings sent to me , the caregiver,because I am so lucky to still have a husband.
Ouch! I still have a husband? Think again. The man who walks here in this house does not know his wife, his children, his grandchildren, not even the dogs.
Often I am told to leave the bed, he does not sleep with strangers. Lately the hitting has started until we needed
stronger medicine, now he is just zombie like with a manic laugh. Everything now is a matter of laughing or yelling, no in between.
I was surprised when my water bill had doubled, why? I asked. It is not from all the showers he is taking, no dear caregiver it is from the daily changes of the soaking sheets towels and mattress covers. That is a pile of laundry every morning. The water company is blessed, the laundry lady is not very happy remaking and remaking a Queen size bed.
No, I would not call it blessed.
I could write a book about it all and not once would I have to admit that this was all a blessing. I do not give a hoot where you find that the word would fit, it does not fit for me nor for my husband who is now a walking stranger in his house.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Sunday night Nov 15
Two hard days, complicated with the fact that I will have construction going on everywhere in and out of the house
in 2 weeks and probably will for the whole month of Dec.
When Sabrina came to blow the leaves together that already made old Bob upset, he has been re-arranging the piles now for 2 days.
I started to put out old junk for the garbage and he hauled it all back in before I saw him do it.
Week ends are always very hard, I do not have the comfoert of free hours in day care.
Thanksgiving week he will be home 4 days.
Ouch.
I am hoping for a good week to come.
in 2 weeks and probably will for the whole month of Dec.
When Sabrina came to blow the leaves together that already made old Bob upset, he has been re-arranging the piles now for 2 days.
I started to put out old junk for the garbage and he hauled it all back in before I saw him do it.
Week ends are always very hard, I do not have the comfoert of free hours in day care.
Thanksgiving week he will be home 4 days.
Ouch.
I am hoping for a good week to come.
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