One night and day like this are about all I am up to.  Last night the hallucinations fired up.  When I say that we got less than half a night’s sleep, I mean that if the night were to be sliced down the middle, lengthwise, there was sleep that totaled less than half the available time.  In other words, there was about twenty minutes out of every hour that may have included some sleep, at least for me.  As I write that, I suspect that I am exaggerating some.  I doubt there there was twenty minutes in any hour that was not spent trying to explain away hallucinations and convince her to lie down and go to sleep.

Once after I had pointed to her quilt on the wall and the family pictures on two other walls in the bedroom.  She stared me in the face and said in a very belligerent tone: “All right, now just take me home!”   At one point she was crying uncontrollably during a dream.  Almost immediately after I hit the publish button on last night’s post, she got up and then fell down in the corner of the bedroom. When I got there she was talking utter gibberish in a loud voice like the sounds she makes sometimes when she is starting to faint.  They are awful sounds.  They may have been some sort of wailing that was part of a dream that was going on when she fell.  I was afraid she had had a stroke, but when I got her up, she seemed to have awakened from whatever form of dream she was having.  She was still not at all lucid.

After having clear and healthy looking urine all day, up until the time she went to bed, she started showing some blood in her urine. I phoned Hospice, grateful to have someone to call.  The Hospice Nurse said she would bring over a kit to gather urine so that she could be tested for a urinary tract infection [UTI].  We agreed that it would be okay to wait until morning to bring it over.

After an entire night of getting up and down again and again, trying to get her to settle, she got up very early.  I had set the alarm early so that I could get a shower in before the nurse came.  Mary Ann was up before the alarm went off.  She was in hallucination streaming mode.  I simply cannot endure that for very long.  She hops up immediately after sitting down, needing to go somewhere, not always sure where.  She was in fainting mode, so each time she insisted on getting up and walking somewhere, she ended up on the floor.  I was with her each time, so I had to let her down to the floor, sometimes dead weight, so that she would not hurt herself.  Then I got the transfer chair beside her, pulled her up on to her feet and back into the chair.  As soon as I moved her back to her spot, she would pop up and the procedure would start again.  I could not begin to count how many times that happened.

I did manage to get her fed, no small task since she was hallucinating and paying attention or talking to whatever or whomever she was seeing.  I am utterly helpless to do anything about problems created by people or objects that have no corporeal presence.  They just don’t exist outside of Mary Ann’s plaque laden brain cells.  Whether or not they are real, they are so to Mary Ann.  They elicit the full range of feeling and frustration and fear that they would if they actually were real.

I had to sit two or three feet away from her every minute, or she would get up and move someplace where she could be hurt.  I could not so much as get in a fifteen minute shower.  The Hospice Nurse had to be late, since a client had died and she had been up with them all night.  I followed Mary Ann around, picking her up again and again for two or three hours, until just minutes before Nurse Emily arrived when Mary Ann simply crashed and had to go back to bed.

Nurse Emily dropped off the urine gathering kit for me to use later, but she was also willing to stay for fifteen minutes extra so that I could take a shower.  During that time Volunteer Edie came to stay with Mary Ann.  As always Edie brought lunch. This time it was a favorite of both Mary Ann and me, a Greek style meatball and veggie soup.  Mary Ann slept about three hours, beginning before Nurse Emily and Volunteer Edie arrived and ending just after Edie left.

We ate lunch, and afterward, Mary Ann started the same pattern as the one that had almost driven me crazy (short drive) before her nap.  A number of times when she popped up in the afternoon, she was irritated that I didn’t get her into the car to go to the Evening Service at Church.  The service is at 6pm (ten minutes away from our house) and she started popping up around 2:30pm.

The afternoon pop-ups included four or five of them beginning a trek to the bathroom, where the fainting and intestinal production ending up in the wrong place happened a number of times.

We did manage to get to the Evening Service, but I was wasted and worn out, and Mary Ann was not able to participate much in the service. There is enough structure to the service, that we could at least make it through the service.  Church and supper did not change the pattern.  We ate supper, Mary Ann sticking her spoon in the Pepsi and her napkin in the soup, often seeming to try to eat the napkin with the spoon.  Sleepless nights wreak havoc on her dementia.

I won’t deny that I had been hoping all afternoon and evening that she would go to sleep again.  She did not.  Now finally she is in bed.  She has been continuing to pop up and down, sometimes thinking it is morning.  I have had to talk her out of getting up and dressed.  I don’t know that I have another night like the last one in me.  I guess I don’t have a choice.

What I have written may make no sense, I am so wasted that my eyes keep shutting.  I need to get to bed. (Too tired to edit. It goes out errors and all.)  [I am adding this sentence to indicate that I have now edited this post, and Mary Ann and I did get some sleep last night.]

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Recently in the online Lewy Body Dementia Spouse Caregivers group, a short discussion began about differences in the way husband Caregivers and wife Caregivers deal with their role.  I have copied an article from the AARP website on the matter.  While all of us have common challenges irrelevant of gender, there are some different cultural patterns that seem to come into play for males and females.  The task is equally difficult.  I have to say that I identify with much of what is written below.  At the end I will include an update on a fairly uneventful day at our place.

The New Face of Caregiving: Male Caregivers

By: Cathie Gandel | Source: AARP Bulletin Today | – January 23, 2009// <![CDATA[
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Photo by Blasius Erlinger/Getty ImagesPhoto by Blasius Erlinger/Getty Images

When his wife, Chris, was diagnosed with breast cancer on their 19th wedding anniversary, Dave Balch suddenly found himself with two full-time jobs: running his home-based software business and taking care of her. “I don’t know how I managed everything,” says the 60-year-old from Twin Peaks, Calif., whose wife continues to fight recurrences of the disease six years later. “But you do what you have to do.”

Each year, more Americans are finding themselves in a similar situation—and challenging preconceived ideas about men and caregiving.

“People think that male caregiving means that the guy calls home from the job and asks his wife how his mom is doing,” says Donna Wagner, professor of gerontology at Towson University in Towson, Md. “That’s not true at all.”

A 1997 survey conducted by AARP and the National Alliance for Caregiving, a research and advocacy coalition, found that 27 percent of caregivers were men. By the 2004 update, that figure was almost 40 percent, with more male caregivers (60 percent) working full time than women caregivers (41 percent). Among the reasons for the increase: smaller families, longer life spans, more women working outside the home and greater geographic separation of family members.

While male caretakers face many of the same challenges as their female counterparts—including depression, stress, exhaustion and reduced personal time—they approach their caretaking role differently, say some experts.

“Men approach caregiving as a form of work, a series of tasks that needs to be accomplished,” says Edward H. Thompson, coeditor of Men as Caregivers and director of gerontology studies at Holy Cross College in Worcester, Mass. “I don’t mean that to sound harsh. It’s just the way they look at things.”

Because they are used to delegating, they are more comfortable seeking outside help when they need it, says Richard Russell, associate professor of social work at the State University of New York’s College at Brockport.

Donald Vaughan, a 51-year-old freelance writer in Raleigh, N.C., has an aide come in three times a week to bathe and shave his father. “It’s worth every penny I pay,” he says.

But despite feeling isolated, men tend not to seek help for themselves, at least not from traditional support groups. Instead, some forge their own connections. In Rochester, N.Y., some fellow caregivers meet once a week for breakfast. “The men talk about sports, politics and grandchildren,” Russell says. “They don’t mention caregiving. It’s as if they have made a pact that this is their time to be just regular guys.”

Men also try not to bring their caregiving situation into the workplace. They not only have been socialized to keep things close to the vest, they also perceive a stigma associated with taking time off for caregiving responsibilities—and sometimes a lack of understanding from employers.

John Young experienced that feeling firsthand. The 55-year-old nursed his late wife through Lewy body dementia, a disease that combines the mental deterioration of Alzheimer’s disease with the physical disability of Parkinson’s disease. When his wife became ill, Young was teaching in a police academy in a Houston suburb. At first she was able to stay on her own while he worked, but one day she called with an emergency and he had to rush home. “When I returned, my boss called me in and asked, ‘How much longer does she have?’ ” Young says. “I knew it was time to go.”

Even those who work at home have trouble juggling responsibilities. “Taking care of my dad has had such a dramatic impact on my life,” Vaughan says. “One part of my brain is always on my father. And my time is nickel-and-dimed throughout the day. It’s hard to get a long period when I can do my work.” He interrupts his writing intermittently to make sure his father drinks enough fluids and walks up and down the hallway for exercise.

“The worst part is the exhaustion,” says Gary Noble, 64, who cares for his wife, who has multiple sclerosis. He also works as a bus driver in Livermore, Calif., and often has split shifts. He may come home at 8:30 p.m. Before he goes to bed at 9:30, he has to cook, clean up and tend to his wife’s needs. He needs to be up again at 3 a.m. “I’d appreciate just a few hours off sometimes,” he says.

John Carlson, 57, of Woodbury, Minn., takes care of his 88-year-old father, who is in the early stages of Parkinson’s. “The most difficult part is having time away from home,” he says. “Dad covets my time, as most of his days are spent alone.”

While any relationship may suffer in the caregiving equation, the issues are particularly difficult for those caring for a spouse, says Donna Wagner. Richard Anderson, president of the Well Spouse Association, a nonprofit organization that provides peer support to those caring for a partner with chronic illness or disability, agrees. He took care of his late wife, who had an autoimmune disease, for 29 of their 31 years of marriage.

“Spousal caregivers are different because of the intimacy of the relationship,” he says. “It’s hard to have sexual feelings toward your partner if you have to deal with incontinence and other personal issues.”

Despite the difficulties these men face, there is some good news. “My wife and I spend a lot more time together,” says Ray Heron, 57, of Charlottesville, Va., who has been caring for his wife, who has MS, for 10 years.

The caregiving relationship has brought Chris and Dave Balch closer, too. “This can really put your love for each other to the test,” Chris says. “In our case, it made it stronger.”

Tips for Male Caregivers
“There is no manual on this,” says Vaughan, the freelance writer in Raleigh, N.C., who cares for his father. “You learn day by day.” But here are seven tips passed on by men on the front lines of caregiving.
1. If someone asks what they can do to help, have a list in the back of your mind and tell that person.
2. Have something to look forward to—whether it’s a big trip or just a rental movie to watch at home. Remind yourself that you will get through this.
3. Acknowledge your emotions. You’re human, not a robot.
4. Set up a group e-mail to keep family and friends in the loop.
5. If you’re a spousal caregiver, don’t put off shared pleasures. If you and your wife always dreamed of going to the Caribbean and the trip is still feasible, do it now.
6. Remember that most of the little issues don’t count. Discuss them and find what works for both you and your patient.

7. Learn as much as you can about your patient’s disease, even though it might be scary.


As I mentioned earlier, today was a fairly uneventful day.  The night went reasonably well.  We both slept later than usual.  Hospice Aide Sonya came to get Mary Ann showered and dressed.  We ate here at the house, then headed out for a short ride in mid-afternoon.  Mary Ann napped when we got back.
I used the nap time for deck therapy.  Today I received the new issue of Weavings, a Spirituality Journal that I find very helpful.  That and the setting combined to provide a refreshing respite.  The respite time included some forays into the forest of sunflower seedlings in and around the waterfall – a consequence of spreading seed over the snow to keep the winter birds healthy and well fed. I pulled up mounds of them.
As I sat on the deck, the annual visit by a pair of Mallard ducks brought them through for a quick bath and a drink in the waterfall.    They and the rest of the birds seemed to be pretty relaxed about my presence on the deck.
Mary Ann had a reasonable quantity of food for supper (a hamburger, sweet potato fries plus a big bowl of strawberries and ice cream).  Mary Ann has gone to bed and so far seems settled.  We will see how the night goes.

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Yes!!!  There has been an especially thought provoking thread of conversation in the last couple of days in our online group of Caregiving Spouses of those who have a form of Lewy Body Dementia.  What is shared there is just for the membership.  I will only comment in a general way what issues have been raised.

The group is a place where members can vent freely without fear of judgment.  We can whine, scream, cry; we can reveal what is going through our minds even if it is not very nice; we can complain; we can talk candidly about things that would gross others out; we can be matter of fact about matters that would frighten those who have not been in our shoes.

We all have a common enemy — the disease that is stealing from us our Loved Ones and at the same time the life we might have had were the disease to have passed by without stopping at our place.  The recent thread has ruffled feathers as members have disagreed on how to talk about what we do, the lives we have now that Lewy is part of the family.

Some talk about the unfairness of it and the pain and the waste of the life they wish they had and the ultimate defeat that comes at the hands of the disease.  Some write when they are depressed by their powerlessness, when they are grieving the loss of the person they love while that person’s body still needs care, while that person’s physical presence may be threatening, or simply vacant of recognition. Some feel like victims of things beyond their control.  Some cannot tolerate the thought of seeing the situation we are in as a privilege.

Some talk about the privilege of caring for their Loved Ones.  Some see the care being given as a choice made by the Caregiver.  They could have run out on their Loved Ones, but they have chosen to stay.  Some find satisfaction in what they are doing.  Some see their caregiving as their current job, providing them with meaning and purpose.  Some refuse to allow themselves to be victims.  Some make the best of the situation seeing positives that come out of it.

There is a continuum of feelings and perceptions that has the above attitudes at opposing ends.  For lots of complex reasons that have to do with people’s family of origin and life’s experience and world view, most of us gravitate to a certain place on that continuum as our home base.  With that said, at one time or another any of us can be at either end or anywhere between.

What is helpful is to have a place to go where there is permission to admit to being anywhere along that continuum — no apology needed, no justification, just understanding and acceptance.

I will admit that my home base lies in the place where there is acceptance of our lot being no better or worse than any other lot, just different.  I don’t feel victimized.  It feels very right to be enjoying a healthy relationship, fulfilling promises made.  I feel very privileged to be able to actually make a difference in the quality of life of someone else with actions, not just words and occasional gestures.  While I would not choose this disease for Mary Ann, I am grateful for the growth in our relationship, the strength of character it has brought to the surface in our Children and Grandchildren, the wonderful friendships of so many good people surrounding us with help and support, what it has taught me about real love, not the stuff in the movies, the depth of faith that has grown from knowledge to experience of the Presence of God and God’s unconditional love and acceptance moment by moment every day.  I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone else’s.

At the same time, I can scream in frustration and feel overwhelmed at any point on any day of the week.  When my Lewy Body Dementia Caregiving brothers and sisters vent I am with them.  When they suffer, I am with them.  When they celebrate victories, even little ones, I celebrate with them.  They reveal courage as courage really looks when lived in the throes of real life, not as portrayed in the movies.  It is courage that can be messy and ugly and smelly and scary and enduring and bold and beautiful.

Privileged or overwhelmed?  Yup.

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It felt good to be with other people in worship at the Good Friday service at noon.  The events remembered this week are at the core of what my ministry was about those forty years.  The events remembered this week are what provide access to a relationship that shapes my world day by day.  The events remembered this week heal my sometimes wounded spirit, wounded more by my own thoughts and actions than those of anyone else.

I was bummed yesterday afternoon when dressed and ready to attend the Maundy Thursday service Mary Ann’s circumstances did not cooperate.  That worship service has always been one of the most powerful in the year.  The words and, more importantly, the actions of that liturgy reveal the healing of wounds and the consequences of that healing.  The traditional liturgy as I have done in my years in the ministry includes an action that provides a painful look into the mirror, followed by words that create the freedom to begin again and write a new story for our lives.  There is a time in the service when one action, the foot washing, demonstrates that new story as one of service to others.  There is a meal called Holy Communion or the Lord’s Supper.  There the joy of community with one another and our God is celebrated.  We become family in the best sense of that word.

It was hard not to be there and draw on the words and music and actions that speak so powerfully to my spirit.  I was grateful that circumstances here at the house allowed the possibility of a corporate worship experience today.  While we have been able to get out of the house for one thing or another, most of the time it has been in accord with Mary Ann’s readiness.  Other than her Tuesday morning group and most of the doctor appointments, we have not often been able to get to something with a specific scheduled time.  Admittedly, that has been one of the challenges for me, since I have tended to be a planner.  I no longer have a shred of control over what we do and when.  The Parkinson’s and Parkinson’s Disease Dementia are currently running Mary Ann’s and my schedule.

I was too tired to stay up and write a post for the blog last night.  The night before had been one of those nights filled with needs, up many times, and then up very early in the morning.  Mary Ann had a couple of long naps during the day.  There were some hallucinations/delusions beginning a bit.  After she had been in bed for a while last night, she asked if the Thursday people had gone yet.

Today was another fairly busy day.  The electricians came and put up the ceiling fan and outside light.  They did so during a pretty noisy thunderstorm.  Then Hospice Aide Sonya came to give Mary Ann her shower etc.  We managed a quick lunch for Mary Ann before the noon service.

Then in the mid-afternoon, Mary and Arlene came over to check out the project and visit for a while.  They were followed by Hospice Chaplain Ed.  Admittedly, Chaplain Ed does more to provide me with conversation, than to do any sort of pastoral counseling for Mary Ann or for me.  I enjoy the visits.  In that way, I guess the conversation is therapeutic.

Now that the ceiling fan is in and the waterfall is fully lighted, I am getting even more pleasure from it.  It is hard to describe how calming and refreshing the setting is becoming.  More samples arrived today, so Mary Ann is having more input into the color scheme.  She seems to be enjoying the project more and more now that it is almost fully complete.

Our Daughter, Lisa, and her family from Louisville, Kentucky, have arrived at our Son, Micah, and his family’s home in the Kansas City area.  They will come here tomorrow afternoon to stay for five or six days.  We will have a lively place for a while!

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First came Volunteer Maureen with a decorated basket fill with candy and dozens of home made cookies, along with some spaghetti for the freezer.  If that is not enough, after spending a couple of hours with Mary Ann, she left and returned with three containers of fresh strawberries with the greeting, Happy Easter.  We certainly are treated very well!!

Next came Edie, Paul and Shari for our Spiritual Formation Group.  For the first time in months, we were able to sit outside and enjoy the newly remodeled deck filled with the constant sound of water spilling over the rocks of the waterfall.  That and the birds accompanied the sound of the garbage truck and weed eaters.  What a rich environment for exploring mechanisms for allowing the awareness of the presence of God to wind through our days.  That two hours weekly has a profound grounding effect that helps sustain me during the unsettling times as well as filling with meaning the ordinary moments.

Shortly before the Group meeting ended, Bath Aide Zandra came to give Mary Ann her shower, wash her hair and get her dressed.  Apparently all went well.  We held off on morning pills until after Zandra was done.  That way we avoided the fainting spells that seem to be triggered when the meds first kick in.  There was some fainting later in the day, but it was very manageable.

When all those folks had left, a call came from Hospice Social Worker Kristin for her monthly visit.  She came over and, as usual, she asked lots of questions about how both of us were faring in our situation.  With all vagaries of Mary Ann’s cluster of medical problems, we seem to be healthy and secure — a credit to the support we get from so many folks.  During her visit, Volunteer Coordinator Mary phoned that she and Arlene would like to come by on Friday for a visit.  I could report that to Kristin as an example of the many folks who care for us and brighten our days.

Next came the Sister-in-Law of Jerry, our Remodel Contractor.  She is a gifted painter, who on very short notice was able to prep the ceiling for the electrician who, hopefully, will come soon to install the ceiling fan.  Actually, she was here while Hospice Social Worker Kristin was doing her task with us.

After Painter Diane left, Stacey came to talk with us about blinds and colors to paint the interior of the upstairs.  She brought wonderful ideas and helped us talk through some things.  Mary Ann was fully involved in the discussion, especially the discussion about colors of paint.  Mary Ann has an exceptional eye for colors.

After Stacey left, procrastinator that I am, we went out to eat using a promotional $25 gift certificate that I have had since before Christmas.  Today was the last day it could be used before expiring.  We ate a $34 and change worth of meals, that ended up only $4.61 (I realize the math doesn’t work, but the way the tax was applied also made a difference).  Yes, I gave a tip based on the charge before the discount.  The meal was at a good restaurant here called the Brick Oven.  Mary Ann allowed me to reach across and help her get the food to her mouth after she had struggled for a while.

After, of course, a stop at Baskin & Robbins, we got home to meet with Contractor Jerry who was there finishing up a couple of little things.  The main reason for the visit was to pick up the check for the work they did on the sun room and the deck.  There goes that inheritance, Kids!

Speaking of the Kids, Daughter Lisa called.  We got to talk with five year old Granddaughter, Ashlyn, who told us they were going to try to come a day early, which is only a couple of days from now.  They will arrive either late on Friday or early on Saturday if they stay with our Son and family in the Kansas City area before arriving at our house.  Needless to say that news lifted Mary Ann’s spirit as well as mine.

The day concluded with some deck sitting time after Mary Ann headed to bed.  Deck Therapy is one of the most effective tools for helping me keep perspective and fold into the day the support of the One who gives me breath.  I guess the day began and ended with the birds and the waterfall each providing their uniquely healing sounds.

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Don’t worry, this post is barely rated PG.  A prior post was rated PG-45.  That was to make clear to our children that it might contain too much information about their parents love life.  Since I am a Pastor, we, of course, had our children by virgin birth.

Before talking about how touch has impacted Mary Ann and me in recent history, today was in some ways a continuation of yesterday.  Her blood pressure was 180/100 first thing this morning.  There is no way I would consider giving her medicine to raise her blood pressure given that reading.  Even with BP that high, there was a little fainting in the morning.

Volunteer Edie spent the morning with Mary Ann.  There were no problems with fainting.  After lunch the challenging intestinal activity resumed for a while, except for the fainting.  That task is more manageable when there is no fainting.  I am longing for the resumption of more normal regularity, demanding less assistance.

One of the unexpected benefits of Mary Ann’s illness is that it demands more touching.  I grew up in a non-touching family.   I was well into my thirties before I greeted Mom with a hug when visiting.  Before that it was hi to Mom and a handshake for Dad.  Gratefully, through a variety of circumstances that changed, especially with our children.

When a marriage has caregiving added to the relationship of husband and wife, there is an intimacy that grows of necessity.  I am holding Mary Ann many times a day.  My arms are around her to move her, lift her, shift her, dress her.  Prior to the addition of the caregiving, we were not very demonstrative and openly affectionate.  Now, I often linger with a hug when doing one of the tasks that requires putting my arms around her.

I have little doubt that there is an intimacy in our relationship now that we might never have experienced without the needs brought by the Parkinson’s and the complications that have come along with it.  Of course, neither of us would have chosen this way to add intimacy to our relationship.  It is sort of like finding a pearl in a pile of poop. (Am I not poetic!)

Last night and this morning were helpful times for me Spiritually.  With the complexities of Mary Ann’s personal needs, her napping, the vagaries of the blood pressure and dementia, we have not gotten to church very often.  Private devotional time does not substitute for corporate worship which provides community and an encounter with the core message coming from every direction.  Time alone with tools that help focus one’s heart and mind on the presence of God is an important mechanism for Spiritual growth.

Last night, the computer provided access to music that became a means through which the message of God’s unconditional love washed over me.  There was some Taizé music.  The there was a group named Anuna (sang in Riverdance).  Much of their music is ancient church liturgical music.  I played again the CD that includes “The Deer’s Cry,” which is an arrangement of the St. Patrick’s Breastplate prayer with which he began each day.  During the time I was listenting to the CD, I turned the lights in the house off, except for a votive candle on the mantle in front of a small iron Celtic Cross, casting a shadow on the wall.  Those are helpful times that allow my spirit to settle.  It was a help after the difficult day yesterday.

This morning at the lake, I listened to more of Anuna and some more Taizé music.  There was a passage from Jeremiah (29:11-14) and a couple of Psalms (100 and 101) that provided some grounding for the morning’s music and nature watching.  There were only a few birds, but the sounds of frogs and little critters of one sort or another filled the air as I walked along a marsh area (reminiscent of my childhood days playing at the swamp).

This afternoon, I had a little time during one of Mary Ann’s naps to sit out on the deck for the first time since the remodeling began a few weeks ago.  The signs of spring are slowly coming into view.  We do not have a secluded cabin in the woods, but as the leaves come out and the greenery flourishes, the little space at the back of our home will provide some of the nurturing environment I need to stay whole in a very fragmented and disjointed world in which I have very little say about what goes on.

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It has been a very long time since there was so much fainting in one day.   Anyone who is not okay with explicit talk about BM’s should probably pass on this post.  I was grateful for a three or four hour nap in the middle of the day and more grateful when the ordeal was over this evening and bedtime arrived.

I am a seasoned veteran in what I call waste management.  It is just part of helping someone who no longer can handle those duties on her own.  I am used to the fainting spells.  They no longer scare me.  It is when the two intertwine for all the hours she is awake that it calls into question my physical capacity to do this task.

I am not grossed out by it.  I am not pushed to a high level of frustration by it.  I am just tired and sore, grateful for a break from it now that she is in bed.  Yesterday, I mentioned that Mary Ann’s blood pressure was a very low normal when the Hospice Nurse took it.  I observed that resting blood pressure that low did not bode well for what might be so when she stands up for a while.

I meant to take her BP this morning, but did not remember to do so.  As a result, I am not sure yet about whether or not to start the Midodrine, which raises her BP and reduces the fainting but keeps her BP dangerously high.

Mary Ann got up fairly late today.  It was apparent from the morning trip to the bathroom that the fainting was a problem.  We managed to get her breakfast done.  Then the bathroom trips began.  She felt that she needed to go, but there was little production.  Each time she got on the stool, she fainted.  Each time she stood up from it she fainted.  My role, as I have mentioned before, is to hold her upper body back so that she does not fall forward off the stool.

She was fainting so much that she couldn’t even sit up in her chair when I got her back out into the living room.  I just took her into the bedroom and got her into bed.  She slept for three or four hours.

After she got up, I fed her lunch and the bathroom trips began in earnest.  There was more production during the afternoon.  Once down there would be a some activity.  Then I would pull her up, hold her up and do clean up, almost always including (sorry) getting out some that would not come on its own.  Then as that was going on, she would faint again.  Trying to get her into the sitting position when she is only partially conscious and holding herself stiff, takes all the strength I can muster.  The torso has some pretty powerful muscles.

Each time we went in, there would two or three repeats of that same pattern with occasionally a few minutes of just sitting there holding herself up. During those times, I stayed close to her so that I could get there immediately when she popped up.

Most of the next couple of hours contained those trips, each about the same in terms of my role.  When Mary Ann was not in the bathroom, she was in pop up mode.  She has absolutely no awareness of the risks of getting up no matter how often she faints or how much I remind her not to get up without my helping.  At one point, I had to click the seat belt on her transfer chair to slow her popping up so that I could finish folding the clothes from the dryer.

What I have described above is a very normal activity for Caregivers of those with Lewy Body Dementia.  I can hardly complain.  Others have a far more difficult time than do I.  I write in such detail first of all for selfish reasons.  It helps me to put into words and sort of “get off my chest” just how difficult a day can be.  I hope that the detail also provides a point of contact for those who are experiencing the very same thing but have no one to talk with about it.

I also hope that those of you who have friends or family or acquaintances who are caring for someone, will realize what they are going through and cut them a little slack.  If they are whining, they are doing so for good reason.  You don’t have to try to fix their situation, just listen patiently without immediately changing the subject to something that is going on in your life or tell them about all the other people who have it worse than they do.

Tonight, I am wondering if there is a direct correlation between the low blood pressure fainting issue and Mary Ann’s ability to keep on track mentally.  Shortly before going to bed, she stood up and called me over.  I asked what she was doing.  She seemed distressed and said she was leaning against a wall.  Her eyes were open, not slammed shut as happens sometimes.  She was in the middle of the living room, in front of the television.  When I said there was no wall, she responded, “Did they take it down?” (Probably a memory of the removal of walls in during the sun room construction.)

Moments later in the bedroom, she asked what day it was.  I answered, “Saturday.”  Then she asked me if I was preaching tomorrow.  I asked her when the last time I preached was.  She said, “Last Sunday.”  I asked her if she remembered that I had retired almost two years ago and had not preached since.  She just looked puzzled.

While she does get confused and have delusions and hallucinations and dreams that she cannot tell from reality, those interactions tonight, seemed a little extra odd.  That raised in my mind the question of the impact of so many times today that her blood pressure was too low to keep an adequate supply of blood flowing to her brain.  I am wondering what sort of cumulative effect that has.  If that is the case, it complicates the current decision not to give Mary Ann the Midodrine that raises her BP to harmful level.  There is nothing easy about dealing with this combination of diseases and debilities.

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She wondered if Daughter Lisa was looking for an apartment for her and the girls.  I realized quickly that there had been a dream/hallucination/delusion at some point about our Daughter and Son-in-Law.  Mary Ann was convinced that Denis had asked for a divorce.  When I explained that they were solid as a rock, happily married and there was no divorce talk there, she said she had wasted a lot of time with her stomach in a knot.

Then came a part of the dream that she even thought was pretty silly.  There were Mormons who were trying to take over Denis’s Dad’s farm.  I guess they were some of his brothers, who were trying to talk him into becoming Mormon.  I have to say I am at a complete loss to figure out from where the scenarios for some of the dreams/delusions/hallucinations come.  Many seem to simply be misfiring neurons that use bits and pieces of material residing in distant corners of the memory banks.

When she insisted on getting up early, I knew today would be a difficult one.  I thought there might be some napping, freeing me to do other things.  She was up most of the day, confused for the majority of the time. When she is alert and just on the other side of lucid, it is more difficult for me to manage than many of the other challenging times.  Like many who are retired some days it takes me a while to figure out what day of the week it is.  I did not try to count how many times she mentioned the day and got it wrong or asked what day it was. More than once, she thought it was Easter.

There were things (invisible to me) one place or another in the house, things that needed explanation or needed to be picked up or dealt with in some way.  She stood up dozens of times to do something, often not knowing what.  I could not leave her side for more than minutes. It helped a little that there was an NCIS marathon on television.

She did eat pretty well. Very early this morning she started snacking since she had eaten very little at supper last night.  There was tapioca at 3:30am, applesauce at 5:30am and chips at 6:30am or 7am.  She ate her normal breakfast and lunch (with ice cream), and ate lots of the sausage, potatoes and onions I cooked for supper. It was her idea to get the ring of sausage the last time we went to the store.

While I did feel sort of tethered to Mary Ann’s side today (she doesn’t much like my hanging around and jumping up with her, always asking where she is going) there was a treat that helped keep me interested and engaged in the day.

We woke up to between five and six inches of snow.  Since the construction began, the birds have not been around.  The feeders had to be taken down so that they could work on the deck. The snow brought the birds back, by the dozen.

The waterfall was a draw.  There were birds of one sort or another in it most of the day.  There were still three feeders hanging from a stand in the back yard next to the waterfall.  There were some places that because of the overflow of water had hundreds of sprouting sunflower seeds.  A few birds managed to find there way through the snow to a spot in the back yard.

At the front of the house where some small feeders are located by and on the window, birds were busy.  The street in front of the house was filled with Robins drinking the melting snow.

We have a very good quality speaker in the house with a microphone outside, the wire coming through at the corner of a casement window.  When that microphone is on, the sounds of the birds are full volume inside the house.  The speaker is made for that purpose.  It was a present from our kids.

With probably a hundred or hundred and fifty birds spread among the trees in the back yard and the neighbors yards, the bird songs were constant all day long.  The birds came in shifts to the options, bird feeders and waterfall.  There were a lot of Starlings, certainly not a favorite.  There were Grackles and Robins and Mourning Doves, an occasional Bluejay, Brown Headed Cowbird.  In front there were sparrows, finches, a Cardinal and more Robins.

There was one bird represented in the back yard that brings back wonderful childhood memories.  Lots of folks are not fans of this bird because it can sometimes be found in huge flocks that can be a little overwhelming.  It is the Redwinged Blackbird.  Often, the color visible on the wing is actually yellow.  Redwinged Blackbirds are often found in swamps, sitting on or among cattails.

I spent some of my happiest times as a child, playing at the swamp a short block from the house.  I can still picture that crystal clear water with the cattails all around, filled with huge water bugs that had what looked like two large oars, one on each side of their bodies, tadpoles, and dragon flies everywhere.  Mom sometimes came down with the willow switch to bring me back home, fearing that I would fall in or hurt myself in some other way.  That did not deter me from my adventures there.  Once I made the mistake of describing the muskrat I saw down there.  Mom and Dad decided it was probably just a regular rat.

The cattails at the swamp were filled with singing Redwinged Blackbirds.  The moment I hear that sound, I am back at the swamp, feeling the wonder and joy and peace that I found there.  I only sctually saw and identified one Redwinged Blackbird in the yard today.  I heard more.  They were there all day long, singing often enough and loudly enough that I could hear them through the constant squeeking of the Starlings.

Late in the day, Mary Ann settled for a while, napped with her face on the little table in front of her.  She would not let me help her move.  During that time I was able to get the driveway and sidewalk shoveled.  Still later, I got the deck shoveled off and spread large quantities of oil type Sunflower seeds on the deck and next to the waterfall in hopes that there will be more visitors tomorrow, coming to eat.

Mary Ann’s three childhood friends arrive from Northern Illinois tomorrow evening.  Tonight as I was helping her into bed and giving her the night time pills, she heard them arriving.  I reminded her that it was tomorrow night that they were coming.  I hope she rests well tonight.

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“The Doctor who treats himself has a fool for a patient.” Not only do some who read my posts show love and concern and words of compassion and support, some of you are also worried about how I am doing.  You may very well suspect that I am trying to treat myself spiritually and mentally, against which the above aphorism warns.

You may not change your mind after I have described what leads me to feel secure and healthy in the midst of dealing with so much over which I have no control.  I hope you catch sight of some of what keeps me grounded spiritually and mentally.  I will also share with you some things to watch for that might be symptomatic of losing my bearings.  What I will share is not just about me but anyone who is in a role like mine, or struggling in any way with things over which they have no control.

Last nights post was a window into the specifics of one of our challenges.  I have chosen to write in great detail what we are going through and my feelings about it.  I do so for a number of reasons.  One is that I think it is more interesting, and brings to life what we are experiencing in a way that is accessible to someone who doesn’t have direct experience with whatever it is.

I write in such detail the struggles we are going through and my feelings about them so that readers who are in this kind of role will be reassured that they are not alone in their frustrations.  Somehow it is a little easier to endure seemingly impossible situations when it is clear that there are others doing so.

I write in such detail, including feelings of helplessness as options seem to narrow and the boundary of the ability to cope comes into view. so that those who happen not have been there can catch sight of that place.  That goal is to encourage all of us to look each other with a level of compassion, realizing that the people we know, many of them, may be in the throes of some sort of personal battle, suffering in silence.

I am not silent.  One of the purposes of sharing all the gory details of our journey is that it helps me not to be silent.  I have been using all of you who read these purposes as a collective therapist.  You listen.  No one can go through another’s pain and experience it for them.  Each of us has to survive our own pain.  Many of us like doing so in a community.  You are my community.  The Volunteers are my community.  Friends and family are my community.  I am also part of your community.  One of the greatest joys in the ministry has been listening to and talking with others, maybe some of you, when you have been dealing with things over which you had no control.  I can only hope that the time we spent together helped.

When I write, I seek to be straight with you.  I have chosen, wisely or unwisely, to forgo any pretense that because I am a Pastor I am always pure and holy and strong and capable and wise and completely in control mentally and spiritually.  The tradition of which I am a part is about the Grace of God.  That means I believe that I am loved and forgiven just the way I come, ugliness and all.  I am not saddled with the hopeless task of becoming so wonderful and loving that I measure up to God’s expectations.  I need to be able to fail God and know that God will not fail me — even though it would be only fair for God to do so.  I don’t want a God that treats me with fairness.  I want a God who treats me with mercy.

Here is my assessment of how I am doing.  I think I am doing well.  I feel whole and full of life.  I hide very little from you as I write.  By doing so, it helps me see the reality of what we are going through here. It feels healthy to me to be able now to cry, to grieve, to express frustration, as well as describe the natural beauty that nurtures my spirit. I am free to feel the pain deeply because while it is very real, it does not have within it the power to destroy me.

Here is where the faith tradition of which I am a part frames my world view in specific terms.  I affirm that the One whose actions consummated the deal that has resulted in the Grace of God sustaining me and any who happen to recognize a need for it, has shown me how to live.  He loved people deeply, he knew how to party, he had compassion, he cried, he got angry, he got frustrated with others, he went off by himself to pray, he went to church, he felt pain, he felt overwhelmed, he cried out in desperation from the means of his execution, he faced death without pretense, went into it, through it all, and came out on the other side with life past any power to destroy it.

I feel utterly and completely secure in the love that surrounds me from the One who creates life in me every day, who has put his life on the line for me, whose Spirit nurtures my spirit.

In human terms, I have children and their spouses who listen to and support Mary Ann and me.  They will do anything in their power to be there for us.  I have Brothers and Sisters who care about us.  Every Wednesday morning four of us spend a couple of hours with Scripture and the reflections of others who have gone before us in the faith.  We talk about God’s participation in our lives moment by moment, day by day.  While not often enough, the interactions with friend John from Oklahoma have been exceedingly nurturing Spiritually.  At the moment he is leading a group on a mission trip to Guatemala.  Please keep him and his group in your prayers.  The times I spend in reading and meditation and solitude (deck time, listening to music, appreciating the beauty of nature) are pivotal in maintaining Spiritual and mental equilibrium.  The retreats to St. Francis of the Woods in Oklahoma are powerfully healing.

The online community of those caring for spouses with a form of Lewy Body Dementia has provided a place where complete understanding can be found.  There are many things that I would not say here in these posts that can be said openly in that group with utter and unconditional acceptance.  That group demystifies things that could have more power than they deserve. Reading those posts daily helps put our struggles in perspective.

Words are an important way for me to process what we are experiencing.  Using them in writing and in interaction with anyone unfortunate enough to ask how we are doing, provides a wonderful release.

Here is when to worry: when I stop writing and talking.  It will be time to worry when I no longer shower and wash my hair in the morning, get Mary Ann dressed and fed, make the beds and clean the commode, clean the kitchen counters, drink PT’s coffee and eat Baskin & Robbins ice cream (actually I should stop that last one, it would be healthier), feed the birds.  If I start telling everyone how perfectly I am doing, never sad or frustrated or out of control or grumpy or angry, always sweet and nice and wonderful, then it will be time to call 911 and have me institutionalized.

All of that being said, “The Doctor who treats himself has a fool for a patient.” I appreciate people asking the hard questions of me since I could be deluding myself into thinking I am doing better than I am.  When the Hospice Social Worker came, she asked very many pointed questions of both Mary Ann and me.  I felt I was being absolutely honest with her when I answered each question.  I recognize that there are still more difficult times coming.  I feel healthy spiritually and mentally now, and I expect to deal with what comes as it comes in ways that express fully what I am going through. I am on the pay as you go plan.  When I hurt, I will hurt and when I am wounded, I will feel the pain.  With that Grace of God as the power, healing will come.

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.

It was a very good day today, given recent challenges. The summary is: She went to her Tuesday morning group; the Hospice Nurse visited her; Mary brought Baskin & Robbins (yeah!); and the Hospice Social Worker came and spent some time with us.

Mary Ann decided that she should get to her Bible Study Group this morning, even though it appeared that she was too tired and would not be able to get up in time.  As I fed her breakfast she said something very revealing about her perception of Hospice.  I was not sure how much of what we talked about through the family meeting and meeting with Hospice folks.  She asked what she would be doing the rest of the day after her group study and if she would be spending the night here at the house or not.  It dawned on me that she had somehow gotten in her mind that enrolling in Hospice meant she would spend her time at a Hospice place.  We do have a Hospice House here.  Our Parkinson’s Support Group meets at a local Hospice office.

I reminded her that one of the main benefits of Hospice was that we could stay home to the very end.  I told her that the Hospice folks would come to us here at home.  It was an interesting conversation.  She seemed to understand.  It did reveal just how significant the decision about Hospice was for her.  When she said yes to Hospice, she must have been saying yes to going someplace other than home from now on.  That is a thought I still could not tolerate.  As strong-willed as she has always been, it has surprised me how readily she has generally accepted what the Kids and I have thought best for her.  We always made clear that we would honor whatever her wishes were to the extent possible.

At Bible Study, apparently she participated appropriately at the beginning, then soon put her head down for the rest of the time other than pill time.  It is such a wonderful thing that the group is so accommodating to Mary Ann even when she cannot fully participate.

She wanted to eat at the New City Cafe, but thought better of it when we got to the parking lot.  She was still struggling in the car just to keep her head up.  I went in and got her favorite meal there, the Seafood Tortellini Salad to take with us.  When we got home she ate lots of it, along some bread they sent with it and her usual Pepsi.

Early in the afternoon, Hospice Nurse Emily came by.  She is young and enthusiastic.  She did a great job with Mary Ann, who was in bed napping by that time.  She took her vitals and checked her out.  Again, her blood pressure was pretty high. The equipment company had delivered the wrong style shower chair.  When Nurse Emily got back to the office, she followed up with the supplier and, hopefully, a more appropriate chair will be delivered tomorrow.  Bath Aide Zandra’s Supervisor called and said that tomorrow’s usual shower and hair washing would be a bed bath instead.  I am hoping the shower chair will allow showers to resume.

Another reason that I am hoping the showers can resume is that Mary Ann seems to be regaining the ability to help in transfers from bed to transfer chair to shower chair to the chair at the dining room table.  The curled hands seem to be loosening some.  It may still be wishful thinking, but it seems that her hands are also less swollen.  The medication, Amantadine, that was stopped certainly has a powerful impact.

The Hospice Nurse will come twice a week, Tuesdays and Fridays.  We can cut that back to once a week if that often does not seem necessary.  Soon after Nurse Emily left, Mary came by for a visit, bringing the Baskin & Robbins ice cream treats.  Mary schedules the Volunteers who visit Mary Ann.  As I have mentioned on occasion, we use the free website http://www.lotsahelpinghands.com to schedule times and days of visits.  It is a wonderful tool.

Just as Mary was leaving, Hospice Social Worker Kristin came by.  She spent quite a while since it was the first visit.  I was pleased at how responsive Mary Ann was with her even when the questions were not easy one word answer questions.  Mary Ann answered many questions about how she feels in different areas.  There were questions about how anxious she was, or scared or depressed or hopeful.  Mary Ann seemed to answer as I expected, with a lower level of concern than most would have in Mary Ann’s situation.  I understood one of her responses well enough to bring up the dreams about our divorcing and the kids divorcing (all not true, of course).  She admitted that those dreams were upsetting to her.

Social Worker Kristin also asked how I was doing in all the same areas.  As I responded, it seemed to me that while I am experiencing fully all the dynamics of our situation, it is happening in a fairly healthy way.  When she asked if I was grieving, I answered by saying I am using the pay-as-you-go plan.  I am trying to surface the feelings and face them as they come, rather than hiding them from myself and others.  She asked about guilt feelings.  I told her that I choose to admit pretty boldly the mistakes of which I am aware.  It was an opportunity to reveal a bit of my understanding of the unconditional love of God.

After that conversation, I felt as if both Mary Ann and I are as okay as we can be given our circumstances.  If we were more okay with them I would really worry about our mental health.  If we didn’t get down and a little depressed once in a while, we would have to be crazy!

I am certainly pleased with the care Hospice is providing.  I am also pleased with so many good people’s willingness to show their concern and do whatever they can to help.  It is as if there are two worlds out there, the one reported on in magazines and newspapers, on the radio and on television and computer screens — and the world made up of the flesh and blood folks with whom we live in community.

Mary Ann did get to sleep last night and slept well.  Me, too.  She ate well at all three meals (I fed her) and she is now in bed.  As always, I will not presume to predict how the night will go.

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.