Sources of Strength

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June 12, 2010

What Happens Right Away?

Posted by PeterT under Daily Challenges, Family, Help from Others, Hospice, Meaningful Caregiving, Practical Tools for Coping, Relationship Issues, Sources of Strength, Therapeutic Activities | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , |
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That was the question Son Micah asked.  He had not been with us at the time Hospice Social Worker Kristin answered some of those questions.  In forty years of ministry, I have become painfully aware of the process.

We will call Hospice.  The Nurse will come and make the declaration.  We will have all the time we want with the part of Mary Ann we can see, though life has left for another place.  The Nurse will call the Funeral Home to come and take pick her up to begin preparing her for the service.

We will begin going down the list of folks to notify.  I will not put anything on Facebook or the Blog until we have connected with as many as possible of those whom we intend to notify by phone or email.

When the funeral home vehicle arrives, we will send with them the dress, a picture to help them in their holy task of preparing her for viewing.  Once the Funeral Home folks have left, we will conclude the contacting, and try to begin processing what has happened.

We will set an appointment with a Funeral Director for the next day.  There will be an obituary to work out.  We will go over the plans we made many years ago.  Since we have those plans in place, we will not need to go to the casket room and make all sorts of decisions. They are already made.  We will need to write a check for the opening of the grave site into which the ashes will be placed the day after the service here.

One of the things I did today was work out a proposal for the flow of the service, the hymns and readings.  That job is normally left to the Pastor who will do the service.  Pastors are trained to do that, equipped to do that and experienced in doing it.  Since I served as a Pastor for forty years, Pr. Jim is willing for me to have input.  I finalized the hymns we prefer and did what I have done hundreds of times before.  I put them all together into a traditional Lutheran Funeral Service — admittedly, one with a little more music than usual.

It felt good to put that service together.  It did not feel good that the service will be for Mary Ann.  I couldn’t bring myself to actually write her name into the proposal I sent to Pr. Jim and Director of worship Young.  It just felt good to do something, something I know how to do.  Everything else is so completely out of my control, many of the things I am doing with Mary Ann are new to me, we don’t know from one moment to the next what will happen — it just felt good to accomplish something I am actually equipped to do.

We are all getting tired.  Sleep is tough to come by.  I get up at various times during the night to put my hand on Mary Ann to see if she is still breathing.  I wake up in the wee hours of the morning and just lie there, thinking and trying to doze a little.  The kids downstairs sleep fitfully, listening for my footsteps — reassured when they hear them and there is no pounding on the floor for them to come up.  Actually, I will also push the button Mary Ann used to push to get my attention when she needed me.  It is an electronic battery operated wireless doorbell system.

When I went out to run a couple of quick errands late this afternoon, Mary Ann’s breathing acted up, there were some odd and distressing movements, so the kids called and I came back quickly.  I appreciated that they called right away.  She seemed to settle down, but her breathing continues to be very shallow and a little less steady than it has been.  Otherwise, we remain in a holding pattern.  We keep hoping she will let go. It clearly is harder and harder on her when we move and shift her to avoid the bed sores.

Nurse Emily came and delivered some more briefs and adhesive pads for the red spots to keep them from becoming open sores if possible.  She reassured us that we are doing a good job of caring for Mary Ann.  When I asked about it, she said that when we see her in pain, it is better to give her the low dose more often than increase the dose.

I spend a lot of time talking with Mary Ann when I go in to be with her. I have talked about how fulfilling our life together has been.  Whatever we have done, we have been given the gift of wonderful children who have married good people, and produced beautiful, vibrant, healthy Grandchildren, filled with potential.  We could hardly ask for more.   It seemed odd when I realized that I fell in love with her shortly after I turned 19.  I am 67 now.  When I mentioned that to my Daughter, Lisa said she couldn’t remember back to when she was nineteen.  Mary Ann and I have had a lifetime together.  I have said that I have no regrets.  As I think about it, I do regret that we didn’t hug more.  She is too fragile for me to do it, but I just want to hug the stuffings out of her.  (There are no stuffings left to hug out of her — she is skin and bones.)

Don and Edie (and Son Zach) came by to drop off some orange sweet rolls — very tasty.  Don and Zach spent a little time with me talking about how to deal with the pump problem in the waterfall, the Calcium buildup.  Later, Volunteer Coordinator Mary brought by a Tuna Casserole, some of which we enjoyed for supper, along with leftovers from last night’s dinner.

In the evening, I ventured out for the fifteen minutes it takes to get a cup of coffee at PT’s and return home.  One of the owners, the one who travels to visit the locales and the farmers all over the world from whom they buy the coffee beans was there.  Jeff has a wonderful and caring relationship with all those with whom he works to provide the best coffee possible.  I have interacted with him on occasion since we arrived here in 1996.  He handed me his card and told me to call him if we need coffee brought to the house tomorrow.  He would arrange for it or do it himself.  Home delivery is not one of the services coffee shops provide.

Terry, one of Mary Ann’s three friends from childhood phoned this morning to check on her and wish her well.  All three of them and so many others have been checking on her, sending their love, and including her and the rest of our family in their prayers. This is a humbling experience for us — one we, of course, would never have chosen.  It is the capstone of Mary Ann’s life and an experience after which I will never be the same, hopefully a better person for it.

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,”  click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment.  Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing.  Comments are appreciated.

 

June 12, 2010

Family, Food and Flowers

Posted by PeterT under Daily Challenges, Family, Help from Others, Hospice, Meaningful Caregiving, Practical Tools for Coping, Sources of Strength | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |
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The Family has hunkered down now.  Daughter Lisa from Kentucky will stay for the duration with Denis and the girls coming when the time is right.  Son, Micah, Daughter-in-Law, Becky, and Granddaughter from an hour away (the Kansas City area), are now also camping out in the downstairs tonight.  We need to be close to one another and close to Mary Ann.

Of course we cannot know when Mary Ann will let go and head off for the next leg of her journey, or more appropriately said, the destination.  Her breathing is very shallow.  Last night I got up three or four times and went over to touch her chest to determine if she was still breathing.  We want her to stay longer and at the same time to just quietly breathe her last breath without distress.

Her condition seems fragile.  It is getting harder to find a position that does not put her weight on one of the red spots that have been threatening to transition into bed sores.  Hospice Aide Sonya came and managed to give her a bed bath, wash and blow dry her hair.  She was, of course, completely unresponsive during that activity.  Her fever was not very high this morning, but enough to warrant giving her a Tylenol suppository.  This evening her temperature seemed to the touch to be back to normal, so we did not give her the Tylenol.  We have only given her two of the lowest recommended doses of Morphine, since she has seemed comfortable most of the time today.

While there still appears to be none of the expected mottling of the skin, she seems fragile enough to die at any time.  It is getting harder to compartmentalize my thinking and feeling.  The kids seem to share that problem.  We go about our business as if we are accomplishing something, doing various tasks, talking with folks on the phone and those who came by today.  Then we walk into that room and look at the person we love and can’t bear the thought of losing from our lives here on earth, and the pain wells up, ready to break open.  It is hard to maintain the boundaries between the compartments in our lives.  When I am doing other things, outside that room, thoughts of doing whatever it is with her gone from here breach the boundary between the compartments.

There have been moments when pleasing gestures and gifts have lifted our spirits.  Last evening, Neighbor Harlene brought over food to us, so that we would have dinner tonight.  We already started on the chocolate chip cookies last night.  Later today, Janet and Joe, former parishioners, brought over some supper.  Both meals could be prepared with portions for tonight and tomorrow and portions to go in the freezer for later times.  I will appreciate having nourishment readily available after things settle.

Pr. Jim came by to spend some time.  I shared thoughts about funeral plans and he was very willing to help us have a service meaningful to us as well as any who gather with us.  We have the chance of having two wonderful vocalists sing at the service Carol and Kristen.  Carol has been a part of the congregation for many years, directing the choir for a large portion of those years, singing solos often.  Kristen (Carol’s voice student for many years) is based in Boston (has sung with the Boston Pops), sings professionally, and has as wonderful a soprano voice as I have ever heard.  Those plans are still in the works.  We will see what finally is possible.  We will talk with the Director of Worship about hymns and special music. In our tradition we are free to use joyful music rather than dirges at funerals.  We leave with a sense of victory rather than defeat.

Sister Gayle, Niece Diana and Friend Joy have agreed to team up to handle the logistics of a memorial gathering in Northern Illinois for all those who would not be able to travel here for the service.  The plan is that it will include food, memory sharing and a short worship service in an informal setting.

Then, at one point today, the doorbell rang and there was delivered a small vase of flowers, yellow roses, yellow alsternaria and white daisy mums.  Both Mary Ann and I enjoy having cut flowers in the house. We just love flowers outside or inside.  That vase of flowers perked our spirits.  Gretchen, who sent them, was in the first Confirmation class when I arrived in 1996 at the church from which I retired as Sr. Pastor two years ago.  She is soon to complete her thesis as Dr. Gretchen.

A foam wedge was delivered this afternoon to help keep Mary Ann in a position that avoids putting more pressure on the red spots that are threatening to provide serious discomfort.  We are putting Tegaderm patches on the red spots.  They are an almost transparent thin plastic patch that has just enough cushioning to give the skin a chance to heal when red spots appear.  If any of the spots transition to open sores, the Hospice Nurse will come and put a dressing on them.

I have taken a number of breaks from writing to go in and check on Mary Ann’s breathing.  I have thought about what it feels like to be in this time that some readers of this post have called sacred.  Pr. Jim noted a sense of peace when he has visited.  It is a time of very complex dynamics.  There is hardly a more sacred time than the last moments of life.  Death certainly is what helps define life. Someone observed that there is absolutely no difference in the amount of matter, the weight, the chemical composition of a body before and immediately after death.  There is one difference.  Life is gone.  Life does not have material substance, but look at the difference it makes.

These moments of transition certainly are sacred.  There is peace.  There is pain. The one does not diminish the other. Is it peaceful pain or painful peace.  At any rate, they are folded together into one sacred time in our lives, Mary Ann’s, the Kids and Grandkids, and mine.

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,”  click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment.  Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing.  Comments are appreciated.

 

June 8, 2010

“Probably not today, but I could be wrong.”

Posted by PeterT under Daily Challenges, Family, Help from Others, Hospice, Meaningful Caregiving, Practical Tools for Coping, Relationship Issues, Sources of Strength | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , |
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I called the Hospice Nurse when I saw Mary Ann shivering at bedtime last night.  She suggested I take her temperature, and if it was over 100 degrees, she told me to give her some Tylenol (rectally, since she can’t take oral meds any more).  Her temperature was below that.  I covered her to help with the chills and eventually they subsided.

When I got up this morning, the first thing I did was take her temperature.  When taken under the arm it is necessary to add a degree to get the actual internal temperature.  It measured 102.8 plus the added degree, 103.8.  I gave her the Tylenol and phoned the Hospice Nurse.

When Hospice Nurse Emily came over, she checked Mary Ann’s vital signs.  The fever was a little lower than earlier this morning, but not much.  Mary Ann’s blood pressure was fine, her oxygen level was fine (she is receiving oxygen), her lungs were clear, her heart rate was up some.

Nurse Emily said that her heart is beginning to work harder.  The fever is often a part of the process.  Mary Ann clearly has begun actively dying.  Emily said it this way, “Probably not today, but I could be wrong.”  She added later in the day that she expects Mary Ann to be gone by Friday based on her assessment of her condition.

Those words were very difficult to hear.  Lisa, Micah and I keep telling each other how much we just don’t like this.  It is, of course, a good thing for Mary Ann to move to the next leg of her journey, free of all the problems she has endured here.  With that said, we still don’t like it.

The good news is that Mary Ann continues to appear very comfortable.  The fever has edged down a bit.  Mary Ann is not particularly pleased when we jostle her around and poke things in her bottom, but that is just part of it.  Other than those times, she rests peacefully.  Her breathing is not labored.  Her heart rate continues to increase.  Her normal is about 60.  When Emily checked it this morning it had risen a little over 80.  The last time I took her pulse this evening it was about 100.

We have spent the day talking about the funeral, whom to call, what to do back in Northern Illinois where we both grew up and still have family and friends.  The words come out of my mouth as if we are just making funeral plans for someone.  My gut is doing flips while wearing cement overshoes.  (I have no idea what that means other than that it hurts like Hell.)

I have had to finally start thinking about the afterlife.  Hers will be great.  Mine, not so much.  I started making a list of things that I will need to do.  Discontinue Lifeline, let the Bath Aide know not to come — very many more things like that.  What will we do with Mary Ann’s clothes (I can hardly stand writing this) and when.

As I am writing this I am trying to move inches along the path of coming to terms with what is happening.  This morning, long time friend, John from KC, called and offered support.  Later today, Volunteer Coordinator Mary and Parish Nurse Margaret stopped by, brought cookies and spent a little time with Mary Ann.  She, of course, does not respond at all any more, but it is very likely that she hears what is being said to her.

Son-in-Law Denis and the girls headed back to Kentucky.  Lisa has stayed for a few more days, depending, of course, on what happens when.  Micah, Becky and Chloe spent the afternoon and evening here.

We are in a time warp.  There is no sense of what this day is in relationship to other days.  Minutes seem like hours.  Days seem like an eternity — but not long enough to be with Mary Ann.  Sometimes we wander around the house.  Sometimes we eat.  Sometimes we talk.  Sometimes we sit.

We now have all the elements of the Comfort Kit that Hospice talks about.  We have Morphine if there is respiratory distress or severe pain.  There is none so far, other than the heart pain that subsided with the oxygen and one tiny dose of the Morphine.  We have Tylenol tablets for the fever and will receive Tylenol suppositories tomorrow from Hospice.  We have Ativan tablets and will receive Ativan suppositories tomorrow.  Ativan will be used if and when the agitation hits that often comes and the dying process moves along.

I just glanced at the last few posts on this blog.  I can’t believe how fast things are moving.  There are some things that are helping us as we move through this time in all our lives.  I have probably said them before, but I just can’t remember at the moment.  One thing that helps is that there is not so much as a hint of wondering about Mary Ann’s secure connection to a wonderful future.  We don’t have the tools to form a picture of it, but we have no need to do so.  Our faith life as a family allows us to relax and accept the gift of a future given freely by a Loving God.  There is no time that we need to spend with any distress about her future.

We have a strong family with no baggage, no unfinished business to complicate the process of letting go.  We accept that we are not perfect.  I have not given Mary Ann perfect care, but there is a forgiving Lord who frees me from that guilt.  Mary Ann has an estranged Brother, whom I have promised to tell that she forgives him.  The result of all that is that we have the privilege of feeling the pain and sadness, celebrating her impending freedom, all with a peace that winds through our grief.  There will be tears, sometimes uncontrollable, but no despair. We don’t have to like it, but will will live through it, hopefully stronger than before, more compassionate, free to live meaningfully no matter what comes next.

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,”  click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment.  Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing.  Comments are appreciated.

 

June 7, 2010

Zandra’s Tears — Freda’s Food

Posted by PeterT under Daily Challenges, Help from Others, Meaningful Caregiving, Practical Tools for Coping, Sources of Strength, Therapeutic Activities | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , |
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As Bath Aide Zandra was leaving this morning, I caught out of the corner of my eye that she gave Daughter Lisa a lingering hug.  When she left, Lisa said that she was in tears.  Mary Ann has such a presence that it doesn’t take long for her have impact on people.  Zandra has come to help Mary Ann with her shower, wash her hair and get her dressed in the morning twice a week for maybe four years now.  Zandra was absolutely shocked when she came last Wednesday and saw how much Mary Ann had declined in just a week.

It is probably good that I didn’t see it.  I am beginning to feel as if my intentional denial is only a thin veneer.  I am not ready to allow the dull pain to break open.  I suspect that the illusion that I actually have anything much to say about when and where it breaks is only that, an illusion.  Enough of that!

Then there is Freda’s food.  Lisa was putting some clothes in the dryer.  As she walked out of the laundry room, I was standing in the doorway to the kitchen.  The door to the garage was between us.  As I was standing there, I was eating some of the Chicken Tetrazzini that Tamara had brought the other day.  I said to Lisa, “You know, I think we are running out of food.  I need to get to the store and pick up something.”  Lisa said that she certainly could cook something.

Seconds after Lisa finished that sentence, the door to the garage opened between us, and Lisa’s Husband, Denis, who had been sweeping out the garage, said, someone is here with food.  Neighbor Freda walked in with a bucket of beef and noodles, a package of salad, a loaf of bread and a freshly baked chocolate cake, announcing, “I brought supper.”  It’s all in the timing.

Today there was resolution to some minor annoyances that in our circumstances have seemed like adding insult to injury.

On Friday, I got the summons from the County Courthouse to jury duty.  Today, I picked up the note from the doctor excusing me from serving and got the form and the letter ready to put in the mail tomorrow.

There had been a leak at our gas meter we had reported a couple of weeks ago.  I called today to check on when they would come to repair it.  The truck came this afternoon, dug up a section of our new landscaping, and put in a new meter.

Yesterday, the waterfall stopped running.  Today, Brad came, pulled out the pump, covered with calcium deposits, took it with him, and later returned with a new one.  He had to talk long and hard to convince the vendor to honor the three year warranty.  Since Brad’s Dad has also been diagnosed with Parkinson’s, he has always been very good to us.  Actually, what he told the vendor was that he could not bring himself to charge this customer for a new pump and if he had to he would pay for it himself. Brad said he would come back in two or three weeks to add some stone to cover places where the liner is exposed.  He also will search from some bird friendly chemical to keep the calcium from building up again.

Today my mind has wandered a variety of places.  First of all, my gut keeps reminding me just how much I do not like what is happening to Mary Ann.  I won’t try to describe that feeling.  It is too big for words.

As I was driving out to run some errands a couple of thoughts wandered through.  One is how much of a relief it is not to be dealing with decisions on medications, how much to give and when, what to give and what to remove.  There was always the sense of responsibility for Mary Ann’s survival weighing on me, as if that depended on my making the right decisions.  I know I did not have that much power, but it did make a difference what we did and when.  There were good choices and bad choices to be made.  Those choices are no longer mine to make.  In that regard, it feels as if a heavy weight has been lifted from my shoulders, only to be replaced by a heavy pain in my gut.

Then, just for a moment, as I was driving from the Wild Bird place where I got some more peanuts in the shell for the birds favorite feeder to the Barnes and Noble to look for a reading light so that I could be in the bedroom with Mary Ann reading without having to turn on a light that might disturb here — just for a moment, I had a flash of being out running an errand by myself, without have Mary Ann at home to return to.  It was almost more than I could tolerate.  Have I mentioned how much I don’t like this???

On a more positive note, it continues to be a marvel how many people here and in other places are praying for us.  One of the images used by some of the New Testament writers, is that of myriads of people cheering from the stands.  The imagery comes from the sporting events of the time.  We feel as if there are many people cheering us on as we are in the home stretch, winded and in pain, buoyed by the good will of so many.

Mary Ann has seemed very comfortable today.  We were concerned about the possibility of sores starting, but there were only a couple of red spots.  Bath Aide Zandra confirmed that her skin looked very good.  Nurse Emily came by and confirmed that Mary Ann is still not in need of changing to the special bed and mattress.  She also said that Mary Ann is probably much more comfortable in her own bed than she would be in a hospital bed if one was brought in.  We can get one within a couple of hours if it is needed.

Hospice Chaplain Ed came over for a while.  Again, that is more just a chance for two pastors to chew the fat, as they say, than anything else.

Mary Ann did not eat anything today, but she did drink some water.  She has had her eyes closed almost all day.  One eye opened for a bit when the girls (our 5 and 7 year old Granddaughters) sat on my bed next to Mary Ann and read her some books.  Mary Ann said “okay,” when Nurse Emily told her she would be back tomorrow.  When we changed Mary Ann tonight, there was very little redness in a couple of places.

It felt good to see her comfortable today.  Somehow that helps make dull pain more bearable.

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,”  click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment.  Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing.  Comments are appreciated.

 

June 6, 2010

Denial and Funeral Planning Don’t Mix Well

Posted by PeterT under Daily Challenges, Family, Help from Others, Meaningful Caregiving, Practical Tools for Coping, Relationship Issues, Sources of Strength, Therapeutic Activities | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |
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What will she wear, what songs will be sung, what passages read.  We talked about some of those things years ago when we filled out forms for a Pre-need plan at the local funeral home.  The major decisions are already made.

I have to admit that it is painful even to talk about such things.  It was fine to do so many years ago — not now.  I am refusing to allow it to sink in and touch my gut.  The pain is there, but it is an aching now.  I have tasted it enough to know that the pain will sharpen and overwhelm when it breaks open.  Certainly I will survive as have tens of millions before me.

Friends Mike and Judy came over to spend time with us today.  As always it was a good and meaningful time.  Mary Ann connected with their presence and appreciated it.  Since Mike is the Pastor who will preach at the funeral when it comes, we needed to talk some about that.

Later, Pastor Jim, who followed me as Senior Pastor of the congregation I served for a dozen years, came over to celebrate Holy Communion with us.  There were enough of us to feel like a congregation.  Pastor Jim provided a meaningful ministry through a service of Scripture, prayer and song.  With three Pastors, two Spouses of Pastors and one Daughter of a Pastor, we surprised Jim by knowing the words to the songs (multiple stanzas) by heart.  He didn’t have to sing solo.  We were a choir.

One of the songs we sang is “Beautiful Savior.”  Both Mary Ann and I grew up in the same congregation in Aurora, Illinois.  Every Sunday worship through all the years we were growing up ended with “Beautiful Savior.”  As we gathered around Mary Ann’s bed and worshiped, sang and shared the bread and wine of Holy Communion, there was a peace about what is happening.  Mary Ann was a part of it even if she was not able to sing out loud with us.

With that said, as Son Micah commented later when he arrived, “this is hard.”  It hurts.  It just hurts.

Mary Ann seemed to have a comfortable day.  Last night, I was up a few times to listen for her breathing.  I tried to move her a little to minimize the pressure sore problem.  This morning when Lisa and I changed her, she did not show much evidence of the first stage of pressure sores — just one red spot on her ankle.  It was a relief to me that she seemed to fare well last night.  She does not move at all other than a foot moving a bit once in a while.  That is a formula for bedsores.

One happy surprise was that while Lisa and I were rolling Mary Ann this way and that to change her and check her, it just caught our funny bone.  We started laughing and so did Mary Ann.  It was not audible, but had it been, it would have been a belly laugh.

Lisa headed off for church and a local Art Fair.  I read a bit, then started a new book, titled Broken Open, by Elizabeth Lesser.  It is subtitled “How difficult Times Can Help Us Grow.”  How is that for timely.  It was recommended by the online Lewy Body Dementia Spouses group.

I decided to move into the bedroom to read, just so that I could be with Mary Ann.  It was a pleasant experience.  She seemed comfortable.  I asked how she was doing and she responded audibly that she was okay.  We just had some quiet interaction.  I gave her some water.   I realized just how wonderful it is to be able to spend this time in our lives together at home.

Later in the day, Son-in-Law Denis, arrived to provide Lisa with support and help with the girls.  Denis and the girls will be going back to Louisville on Tuesday.  Son, Micah and Granddaughter Chloe arrived at about the same time as Denis.  This was around the time Mike, Judy and Pastor Jim left.

Lisa and I changed Mary Ann again, examined her for red spots and turned her.  It was disappointing to see some red areas, indicating the potential of pressure sores beginning.  I plan to phone the Hospice Nurse tomorrow about the possibility of a hospital bed with the self adjusting air mattress on it to help avoid the worsening of those spots.

One annoying element in the day was the waterfall simply stopping.  It just stopped.  No one did anything to it.  It just stopped.  I was able to get hold of Brad (through his wife since they were driving) who promised to come after his work tomorrow afternoon to work on it.  Brad installed the pondless waterfall.  I certainly realize just how important a role that addition to our home is now that it is not working.  We built the sun room so that we could see the waterfall!

While Mary Ann is, of course, very vulnerable, and anything could happen at any time, she still seems fairly strong.   She ate a small dish of ice cream this afternoon while lying in bed. The Orthostatic hypotension has been so bad that it is pretty much impossible to sit her up for more that a moment.  Her blood pressure drops and so does she.

We continue to take things as they come, grateful for what we have, hoping for a peaceful release when the time comes.

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,”  click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment.  Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing.  Comments are appreciated.

 

June 4, 2010

Kids and I Meet with Hospice Nurse

Posted by PeterT under Daily Challenges, Family, Help from Others, Hospice, Meaningful Caregiving, Practical Tools for Coping, Sources of Strength | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |
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We are really not liking this!  The four of us, Mary Ann, Lisa, Micah and I are in limbo.  Now we know more about the landscape of limbo, at least this one, but it is still limbo.

Mary Ann has not yet begun actively dying.  Vital signs are not falling into the pattern of those dying of physical illnesses such as Cancer.  That could be comforting, especially to kids who live out of town, hoping to have time to get back when the end is near.

Of course, it is not likely to work that way with Mary Ann.  Apparently, dementia patients often don’t play by those rules.  They may have solid vital signs up to the moment they die.  When the mind precedes the heart or other organs in precipitating death, it can just happen whenever it chooses. There may be no warning.  It just goes with the territory.

I have become accustomed routinely to listening carefully when Mary Ann is sleeping or unconscious.  I listen to see if she is still breathing.  There is a new level of awareness of how easily my listening could reveal that the end has come.  Even after Hospice Nurse Emily said that, I still expect there to be more preliminary signs that the end is nearing. Many of those in the online group of spouses with Lewy Body Dementia, have described a traditional shutting down when their Loved Ones died.

When Son Micah asked if Mary Ann was now on a trajectory of probably weeks, Nurse Emily said that what has been happening suggests that that is a correct assessment of her condition.  She quickly added the disclaimer, that things could change and Mary Ann could bounce back to better health for a time.

We talked about how much of what is happening might have more to do with the medicine than the disease process itself.  Nurse Emily reviewed what has been happening in these past days, noting that Mary Ann has not had many of her pills on a regular basis.  While the meds may be having some impact, the trajectory of the decline seems pretty clearly to be the disease process bringing her to the last stage of the disease.

In responding to my request for either some form that is easier to administer or permission to drop Mary Ann’s Crestor for cholesterol, the doctor suggested discontinuing it.  He said we could crush it if we wanted to continue administering it.  The truth is, I haven’t yet tried to give her any of her night time meds.  At this point in the process, Mary Ann’s comfort is the prime issue.  Any of the meds that will help keep her comfortable, have priority.

Even food is optional.  If Mary Ann wants some thing to eat, or will take it if put to her lips, she will eat.  If she indicates she does not want the food, that is her choice to make.  If she will take water or juice, we will be sure she has all she wants.  If she will not, that’s that. When at this stage in life, the body needs very little to sustain itself.  She will know what she needs and when — and if she wants to have it.

While she would not so much as take a drink of water most of the day today, late this afternoon, whe she started moving around in bed, Daughter Lisa got her up, helped her with personal needs, and started feeding her applesauce.  She ate about a cup of applesauce followed by a small piece of ice cream pie, followed by some water.  Lisa fed her the applesauce and I fed her the pie.  She was up for a couple of hours.  We are suspecting that the Granddaughters’ activity helped stimulate her to stay present with us for such a long time. I took her in to lie down when Nurse Emily came for the family meeting.

There is absolutely no predicting how this will go.  Mary Ann is not about to follow anyone’s expectations for the path she will take.  This will happen on her terms, and no one else’s.  God’s role was making her, not telling her how and when to die.  Gratefully, God’s love for her is without limit, just as it is for the rest of us.

With that said, those of us who love her certainly are in limbo.  It is too soon to begin grieving her loss.  She is not gone.  It was sort of odd to hear Nurse Emily speak to us words that I have spoken to hundreds of others in forty years of ministry.  She urged us to work through our feelings and when we are ready, to share with Mary Ann our love for her and let her know that we will be okay when she decides she is ready to go.  It is not urging a person to die, but giving permission to go when the time comes.

Mary Ann took a few sips of water when I went in at about 11pm.  I gave her a heart med and one that helps her sleep.  She seemed to manage swallowing them.  I will be very interested to see if leaving out so many meds will affect her sleeping pattern.  I hope we can find our way to restful nights as often as possible in what time we have left together.  That would be good for both of us.

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,”  click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment.  Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing.  Comments are appreciated.

 

May 22, 2010

Perfect Storm Damages Resolve

Posted by PeterT under Daily Challenges, Information on Parkinson's, Meaningful Caregiving, Practical Tools for Coping, Relationship Issues, Sources of Strength, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |
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Can it get tougher?  Apparently so.  Those who read this regularly must be getting awfully tired of hearing about the list of problems Mary Ann is dealing with and my complaining about their impact on me.  I debated even about writing a post today. It was ugly and messy.  My reaction was noisy and complaining.  There was absolutely nothing entertaining about today’s perfect storm of problems converging at one time. There is no resolution in sight.

Each of the elements of this perfect storm by itself is enough for Mary Ann and me to deal with.  I will describe again the ones relevant to this meteorological marvel.

One element:  Mary Ann has had Parkinson’s Disease for more than 23 years.  The medication of choice for Parkinson’s is a form of L-dopa.  The brand name is Sinamet.  That is the only effective medication for providing mobility.  Without it, Mary Ann stiffens and becomes rigid from head to toe.  After years of taking Sinamet, a side effect is wavy involuntary movements of body, arms and legs (as seen when Michael J. Fox is in the public eye).  Those movements are called dyskinesias.  The result is legs twisting together, body shifting one way and another, arms moving this way and that.

Another element:  People with Parkinson’s Disease develop problems with the functioning of the Autonomic Nervous System [ANS), the part of the brain that runs a whole list of activities in our bodies, activities that happen without conscious intervention.  In a small percentage of those with Parkinson’s, the ANS’s ability to quickly constrict blood vessels when they stand up keeping their blood pressure high enough to make sure that the brain gets enough oxygen no longer remains consistently able to do so.  That means the person affected gets dizzy at best and loses consciousness at worst.  Mary Ann has won the unfortunate privilege of having a severe and erratic version of that problem.

Another element:  Again, only a moderate percentage of those with Parkinson’s Disease develop Parkinson’s Disease Dementia.  There seems not to be a clear and consistent assessment of the percent of folks who move on to the dementia. This form of dementia is a form of Dementia with Lewy Bodies.  While there is no good dementia, it is a particularly insidious form of dementia.  More than memory issues, it is about visual hallucinations, delusions of all sorts, and vivid dreams that cease to be differentiated from reality.  There are few available in the way of medications that control the symptoms.  Most that might do so ultimately make the symptoms worse.

Another element:  One of the problems that comes with Parkinson’s is bladder activity.  There is the need for many trips to the bathroom day and night.  Because of the movement problems that come with Parkinson’s, help is needed when using the bathroom or bedside commode.  Another of the problems that come with Parkinson’s is sleep issues, the ability to get to sleep, stay asleep, disturbing dreams that interrupt sleep.  Another problem is that those with dementia often hallucinate most at night.  The combination of those problems is that those with Parkinson’s and those who care for them often have sleepless nights.

Another element:  One of the central non-motor problems with those suffering from Parkinson’s is constipation, intestinal issues.  The ANS not only runs the smooth muscles around the arteries, but the smooth muscles that move food and waste through the alimentary canal.  Those muscles slow reducing the natural ability of the intestines and colon to move things along.  Miralax and Senna are the tools of choice needed for Mary Ann to keep her insides running.  The result is not always orderly when finally there is activity.

Now to the Perfect Storm.  We have had two sleepless nights in a row, hallucinating has gone wild, morning, noon and night.  Just as we headed into the bathroom, the dyskinetic movements kicked in with a vengeance.  Then came the horrifying last element of the perfect storm.  There was soft and nasty matter that ended up spread on her back side and legs from her waste (on shirt) to her ankles.  My job was to clean her while she was popping up (the dementia – no matter how many times or how loudly I asked her to stay seated), fainting again and again, legs twisting and crossing and rubbing against one another when sitting or standing (with me using all the strength I could muster against her leg muscles to keep them apart), again, while trying to clean her up. There was another bout later in the day — not as bad, but not too far from it.

The hallucinations are still continuing tonight.  She has been hallucinating all day.  A short time ago I had two trips into the bedroom trying to convince her that it is time to go to bed, not get up.  Four minutes after the second trip in, finally convincing her that it is dark out, time to be in bed, she got up trying to get ready to go to church.  Last night once I woke to her sitting on the side of the bed yelling “help” and when I sat next to her she said someone was going to rape her.  This morning she woke me as she was sitting on the side of the bed crying, describing her beating at the hands of a policewoman who kept pounding on her.  I am afraid that the images from all those Law and Order episodes are folding into her hallucinations. I have been in at least a dozen times in the last hour or so.

Even though we had difficult nights, the the last two nights, this morning I managed to sleep while she napped for a couple of hours.  The perfect storm came right after that nap.  I was completely exhausted physically and mentally after the major bathroom battle.  Everything hurts, muscles, gut and mind.

These events are hacking at my resolve, my commitment to see this through to the end here at the house.  I am disappointed in my own seeming inability to handle this, but more horrified at the thought of not keeping my commitment to caring for Mary Ann at home.  I don’t want her not to be here, so that resolve is not just for her sake.

I wrote a bit on my dilemma in an email to the online Lewy Body Dementia Spouses’ group (many of whom have had much more difficult situations than mine).  One response was simply this little poetic piece:

who knows who knows
what do you do
when you break your commitment
or it breaks you

For now, I am taking some small comfort that while what happened this morning took me far past my ability to cope, I still did it.  I had to.  I am still alive, in some more pain than I care to have, but alive.  …and, for that matter, so is Mary Ann, alive and clean — still hallucinating in a steady stream.  I doubt there will be much sleep in this house tonight.

One reminder to those who wonder that you don’t hear from me (a retired pastor) glowing words about my faith life making this task easier to endure. Nowhere does there come any promise that life will be easy, that we will feel less pain, experience less frustration, because of our trust in our Maker and the One who healed our relationship with that Maker and the One who inspires us with His Power.  My faith is not weakened by my human weakness.  Instead, the One who does the healing retains the power.  I am all the more grateful that the healed relationship does not depend on my strength, but His.  His strength, my weakness.  That is the heart of the message of the Cross.

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,”  click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment.  Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing.  Comments are appreciated.

 

May 19, 2010

2nd Tough Night and Morning

Posted by PeterT under Daily Challenges, Help from Others, Hospice, Meaningful Caregiving, Practical Tools for Coping, Sources of Strength, Therapeutic Activities, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |
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Last night was a little more constant than the night before in the rampant hallucinations/delusions/dreams mixed with reality.  This morning was at least as tough as yesterday morning.  She speaks clearly and with a strong voice.  She can get up and walk on her own, and I just hang on to the gait belt, helpless to change her behavior as we move this way and that.

She got up very early, when i could no longer coerce her into staying in bed.  After breakfast and pills, she was up and running for an hour or so.  Then she went into the bedroom, with me tagging along, and decided to get back into bed.  I, of course, was completely wasted from two nights in a row.

We had an appointment with a quality control worker from Wichita to evaluate the care we are getting from the state agency through the local County office.  For us that meant evaluating our Case Worker and Bath Aide.  She arrived a short time after Mary Ann had gone back to bed.

When the Evaluator arrived, we went into the bedroom to see if Mary Ann was awake enough to participate.  Mary Ann said she would participate but was clearly unable to do so.  I explained that we had been up two nights in a row resulting in her needing the sleep.  The Evaluator asked if she was sick.  Admittedly, I was baffled by the question since she was here to Evaluate the people helping us because Mary Ann is debilitated.  I told her it was the Parkinson’s and the Dementia that were at issue.

The Evaluator got the information needed for the form.  She was pleasant and understanding, even though her initial question had seemed pretty silly to me.  In the course of the appointment, she asked if I would be getting any rest.  I said that while I usually don’t rest during the day, I would have to do so if there was one more night anything like the last two.

After she left, I did some chores.  I continued to think about the option of my getting some rest during the day.  I chose not to do the variety of things that I would normally do with the break provided by her sleeping.  I went in and lay down to allow myself the option of getting some rest while Mary Ann was sleeping.  I actually slept for a couple of hours.

The negative of sleeping when Mary Ann is sleeping is that I lose time that is free for me to spend on things of interest to me, helping me keep my sanity and get some perspective on the daily struggles.  It is hard when all my waking time is taken by the caregiving tasks themselves.  This has, however, come to be a matter of survival.  If there is any hope that I can keep doing this while the dementia is in full swing, I have to get some sleep.  I am hoping that I can manage to continue to use at least some of Mary Ann’s rest time as my rest time as well.  I have to relent on my intention to keep nights for sleeping and days for waking.  I have tried not to reverse those two.  I no longer seem to have a choice on that matter.

At least once before, I had decided that it was time to look at facilities that might be acceptable for Mary Ann’s full time care.  I am again at the point of considering at least getting enough information to be able to know where to turn if things get too much harder here.

Hospice Nurse Emily came for her weekly visit this afternoon.  Mary Ann had just gotten up from her nap (as had I).  I tried to feed Mary Ann some lunch, but she just couldn’t handle even the chips and Pepsi.  She could barely suck on the straw enough to get the Pepsi into her mouth.  She only managed a very few chips when I was able to get them into her mouth far enough for her auto pilot to kick in and the chewing start.

Mary Ann’s Vitals were good.  Her blood pressure was 124/74.  That is about as good a set of numbers as a person could have — of any age.  Needless to say, next time those numbers could be half again as high or a third lower (as in the last two times it was taken).  Emily agreed to call about the progress on the possibility of having some paid help through Hospice so that I could count on a certain time for R&R each week. Emily did make that call, and one of the Aides is coming tomorrow to talk about the possibility.

Mary Ann was up for a while, but subdued, mostly with her head down on the table.  Eventually, she headed in to take a nap.  She was not interested in supper.  When Volunteer Barb arrived to spend time with her this evening, I went to check on Mary Ann to see if she needed anything before I headed out for a while.  She wanted to change into her pajamas and stay in bed.

After I returned and Barb left I checked again on Mary Ann.  This time she did want supper.  I got her a left over pulled pork sandwich and chips.  She ate pretty well and then went back to bed.  I have no reason to think that tonight will be any different from the last two nights, but I can hope.

I did phone the Neurologist’s office and leave a message reporting on Mary Ann’s behavior since we are trying to decide if the addition (three mornings ago) of the morning half tablet of Seroquel is helping more than it is hurting.  At this point, I am not sure what I think about that.  It does seem as if the consistent level of the hallucinations the last two nights suggests the medicine is having a negative effect.  Tonight may confirm that, or just sustain the confusion about what the medicine is or is not doing.

In the time away this evening, I read another section in the book on St. Patrick’s Breastplate, by Marilyn McEntyre, the verse that says, “Christ to comfort and restore me.”  There is a poem included in that section, a poem that is fitting for those with or without a religious affiliation.  The poem was triggered by seeing an acre of valuable, arable land sink into the river.  It is “The Slip” by Wendell Barry:

The maker moves – in the unmade, stirring the water until – it clouds, dark beneath the surface, – stirring and darkening the soul until pain – perceives new possibility.  There is nothing – to do but learn and wait, return to work – on what remains.  Seed will sprout in the scar. – Though death is in the healing, it will heal.

This is what she says in her commentary following the poem: “Three truths emerge conspicuously from this little passage that offer a durable way of understanding comfort and restoration: (1) there is nothing to do but learn, wait and return to work on what remains, (2) seed will sprout in the scar, and (3) healing and death are not always mutually exclusive.”

At this point in our journey, I am earnestly searching for the sprouts that are emerging in the scars left by the Parkinson’s and Parkinson’s Dementia.  Some are easily apparent, others still in hiding.

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,”  click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment.  Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing.  Comments are appreciated.

 

May 3, 2010

Confusion Switch Flips On Suddenly

Posted by PeterT under Daily Challenges, Help from Others, Hospice, Meaningful Caregiving, Practical Tools for Coping, Relationship Issues, Sources of Strength, Therapeutic Activities, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |
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It just happened so suddenly. Volunteer Deb arrived for the evening.  As I was getting prepped for heading out, Mary Ann got up and walked into the kitchen.  Deb was with her, as was I when she fainted.  We got her in a chair, then into her transfer chair.  She immediately popped up again, without the brakes yet set.  We got her to her spot by the little table at which she sits in front of the television.  She stood up again.

This time she responded that she wanted to go to the bathroom.  Deb took her while I was still there.  When Mary Ann came back to the Living Room, Deb said she had been looking for her diamond.  I pointed out that it was on her finger.  She popped up again needing to do something she tried to describe but it just didn’t compute.  Then moments later she popped up again and just stood there needing to do something but not sure what.  She fainted again. Deb, of course, was right there with her hand on the gait belt (Deb is a Nurse).

She popped up again. I asked Mary Ann if I could bring her something when I was out.  That is our code for getting her ice cream.  She said, “garbage bags.”  I asked her what she meant, what garbage bags.  She got angry with me for not knowing what she was talking about.  I asked her if she would sit down for Deb since she had been fainting.  She reacted angrily and sat down.  There was nothing in the air, any former conversation, anything in the immediate or recent circumstances having anything to do with garbage or garbage bags.  She responded as if I was just being difficult on purpose about the obvious matter of garbage bags.

Recently, the hallucination/delusion/dream  mixed with reality has been a constant undercurrent, surfacing at various times.  There have been days when she has had streaming confusion.  While the confusion can come and go in moments, tonight’s move from the mild dementia in the background to blatant and intense problems happened in a more dramatic way than I remember happening before.  Rarely has anyone else seen the dementia on the surface with this level of intensity.

After I left, Deb said there were a number of trips to the bathroom, with some action in the last one.  Then she settled in front of the television.  I asked Mary Ann as I was putting her to bed what she was referring to when she got angry with me about the garbage bags.  She wasn’t sure but she thought it had something to do with our Granddaughter, Chloe.  A couple of years ago we bought garbage bags from Chloe as part of an annual school fund raiser.  To my knowledge there has been no conversation in our household about those garbage bags since then.  At the moment, as I am writing, Mary Ann seems settled in bed.

Last night did not go well at all, so I expected today to have some problems with the dementia. She ate reasonably well.  Bath Aide Zandra came to give her a shower.  Mary Ann was in and out a bit.  She asked me to let the dog in.  There is no dog.  She talked about the tapeworm she is convinced that she has.  She said she sees it in the bed at night.  While she was in and out, it was not overly intense.

She was tired, understandably after last night.  There was a lot of time with her head on the little table in front of her.  She opted for Chinese from the grocery for lunch. Hospice Chaplain Ed came over after lunch for a while.  He asked Mary Ann how she was doing, asked me how I was doing, but most of the time it was the usual conversation that included our various ministry experiences.  He was interested in the Concert we had at church since he is a musician, plays the piano.  Mary Ann had her head down and dozed through most of what was an exceedingly boring conversation to her.

She then napped in the bed for about an hour and a half.  I got in some deck time while she was sleeping.  Tonight while Deb stayed with Mary Ann, I did a little shopping at Penney’s to replace some holey underclothes (it’s a pastor thing) and get a long-sleeved white shirt.  Yesterday’s Concert revealed that I had none that fit me.  Who needs a white shirt when retired?  Levi’s and work shirts (euphemism for hang around the house doing nothing shirts) are all that are needed.  Then I went over to my spot with the best view in town and sat for an hour or so.  I read from Weavings, the Spirituality Journal that comes to the house quarterly.  I watched about as beautiful a sunset as a person could hope to see.  In that spot I can hear birds and frogs and wind in the trees against the backdrop of tires on the Interstate a half mile away.

The deck time and sunset time was helpful.  Lately it has just been a little tougher for both of us to deal with the vagaries of each day’s leg in our journey — nothing dramatic, no one thing in particular.  Having said that, a prayer popped into my mind.  In our tradition there are formal corporate prayers (sometimes called Collects) that are often used in worship.  Many of them have a long and rich history.  There is one used in a worship service called Evening Prayer (also in other services) that is a favorite of mine. Here it is, copied from The Lutheran Book of Worship, p.153:

“Lord God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown, Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.”

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,”  click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment.  Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing.  Comments are appreciated.

 

May 3, 2010

Mary Ann Attends but Misses Trio

Posted by PeterT under Daily Challenges, Family, Help from Others, Hospice, Information on Parkinson's, Meaningful Caregiving, Practical Tools for Coping, Sources of Strength, Therapeutic Activities, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |
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As we rolled back to the car after the concert this afternoon, Mary Ann asked why the trio I was singing in had not been asked to come up to the front to sing.  We did sing, but somehow it did not register in her mind.  Caregiver Debbie said that she had pointed out when I went up front to sing and that Mary Ann had responded that she saw me. The Parkinson’s Disease Dementia is such an odd sort of disease.  Perception is sort of like Swiss Cheese, there are random holes with no explanation as to why they are where they are.

The concert seemed to go well.  It was tough logistically to pull off since there was a huge choir made up of folks from five congregations.  There were numbers of instrumentalists playing at different times depending on the style of music.  There was classical music and contemporary music, liturgical dance, poetry, drama; there were soloists, ensembles, a hand bell choir, pieces with organ accompaniment and piano accompaniment and combinations of any or all of the above.  It would have been tough to sit through that concert without finding something to like. It struck me what a complex organism the event was with each of us having our little piece that when put together with all the others could provide something of such magnitude.  There were no stars, no one to single out, other than Young, the project director who had the vision and put it all together.

I enjoyed being in the setting, talking and thinking and listening to and making music.  One of the choir directors from another congregation sang in the trio.  He and I had a chance to talk music off and on.  It is a world in which I have spent much quality time in earlier decades.  I find it engrossing and energizing, as well as spiritually uplifting.

Yesterday I had a chance to talk with our eleven year old Granddaughter whose choir concert was also this afternoon, resulting in my missing it.  She seemed okay with my missing her concert.  She told me about some of the songs they would be singing.  Our Son said he would try to get some of the concert on video for us.  I feel better having made that connection.

Mary Ann and I both slept well last night.  I had plenty of time to get her ready this morning, dressed, fed two meals, hair washed.  There was lots of fainting again, raising some concern about how things would go if she tried attending the concert.  When Home Instead Caregiver Debbie came, we just headed over to church.  Mary Ann seemed to do fine.  The concert was almost two hours long, plus a reception afterward. Lots of people made a point of greeting Mary Ann.  Now that there is an awareness that she is enrolled in a Hospice Program, folks are probably less sure what to expect and more surprised to see her appearing to be doing reasonably well.

Last evening and this evening, after Mary Ann went to bed, I was able to spend almost an hour on the deck, enjoying the sound of the waterfall, watching clouds and birds, as dusk arrived and the lights in the waterfall shone at the base of each level, sparkling in the sheets of water coming over the rocks. As a result it is now getting late.  I will hope for another good night’s sleep tonight, but, of course, whether or not that happens is not mine to decide.

If you want to write a comment about this or any of the posts on this blog, look to the column on the right side of this page, titled “Recent Posts,”  click on the name of a post and you will find a box at the end of that article in which you can write a comment.  Clicking on the title of the post you are reading will accomplish the same thing.  Comments are appreciated.

 

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