Mary Ann has been noticeably weaker lately.  Of course, we have been trying to regain ground after what was lost in the three day hospital stay.  It seems as if the last few days have taken us the wrong direction.

The question is, what is the cause of this latest decline, albeit a comparatively small decline.  Is it the result of cutting back on the Midodrine and adding the Mestinon to her medication regimen a few days ago?  Check the last few posts on this blog for an explanation of what those meds do and why she is taking them.

One of the folks in the online Caregiver Spouses group mentioned weakness as a potential side effect of the Mestinon.  I am trying to get more information on that possibility.

Another side effect of the Mestinon is diarrhea.  There have been quite a number of trips to the bathroom that might be caused by the medicine.  The information sheet from the pharmacy suggests that this and other potential side effects may subside after a time.  I am hoping that her intestines will settle, so that she can continue the medicine.  It is not certain yet that the new medicine is having the sought for impact on the problem.

If we have simply lost ground in the battle against the Parkinson’s Disease itself, the Parkinson’s Disease Dementia (a Lewy Body Dementia) and the resulting Autonomic Nervous System dysfunctions, we will handle it and incorporate it into a new version of normal.  If, as the timing suggests, the medications are mostly the cause of the decline, we can do some more tweaking, adding, subtracting, or whatever has the potential of helping us regain lost ground.

For now, I’m tired. She seems to be sleeping.  I think I will try that out too.

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I am sure there are a variety of media folks trying to get a clear handle on the reasons for the continued success of the movie “The Blind Side.”  We saw it today.  It is the true story of an essentially homeless teenager, accepted into a family, finding his way to success on the football field.  Thematically, it seems to me like the story of Susan Boyle who has become a metaphor for a nobody being discovered to be a somebody.  It touches the longings in most of us to find fulfillment, to come into our own in a way that is clearly visible to others and, more importantly, to ourselves. I suppose it is the same reason that “The Man from Snowy River” has always struck a chord in me every one of the fifteen or so times I watched it in former years.

I am not really sure how Mary Ann felt about it.  Her comment at the end was, “Did we end up in the wrong movie again?”  The last time we went to a movie, she had gotten in her mind that there was another one we were going to see.  When I asked her what movie she thought we were going to, she referred to an interview this morning on the television with Robert DeNiro about a movie he is in.  I did not see that interview.  In both cases, I had only talked about going to the movie we saw, and had not at any point mentioned the other.  At best, communication is a difficult thing.  Since Mary Ann is not verbal, it is hard to know what she is thinking.  I talk enough that she needs to tune it out.  As a result, I can say one thing, and she can have something completely different in her mind.  It is hard to know how many of the miscues are simple communication problems and how many are precipitated by the dementia that has begun to show its face on occasion.

On another note, there is a dilemma emerging that impacts my role as a Caregiver.  In a matter of about 48 hours, I received three overtures that would ultimately involve commitments of time.  Committing time to something other than caring for Mary Ann is no small matter.  I have seen just how stressful it is to have time pressure enter the picture when Mary Ann’s needs come without warning, often demanding immediate attention.  I can’t count the times I have had to get off the phone or at least excuse myself for a moment, when Mary Ann popped up and headed toward the bathroom.

It became clear very soon after I retired, that I could not count on being able to keep commitments if I made them.  Every commitment had to have an easy way out, in case Mary Ann’s situation demanded my attention.   Even tasks that don’t have appointments to keep pretty tough to accomplish, since the tasks that come with the caregiving role, make it tough to get a long enough block of time free to concentrate on anything else.  Those who volunteer to spend time with Mary Ann have busy lives of their own.  There are not a large number available to cover multiple times for meetings or whatever.  The cost of using paid Companion Care from the Agency we sometimes use prohibits making many commitments.

If I add commitments that use up all the time covered with Volunteers, I may as well go back to work.  One reason I retired was that it was too hard to move between working and caregiving wtihout time for rest and renewal.

With all that said, there must be something else going on in my thinking, something of which I am not fully aware that has caused me not to immediately decline the overtures.  I have accepted one.  It allows a great deal of flexibility and is likely to be very satisfying.  It is simply providing a sounding board for a friend from a former time.  While I may decline the other overtures, I am actually considering them.  I know too little about them yet to actually make a decision.

I suspect that part of the reason I have not dismissed the overtures out of hand, is my need to feel useful outside of my caregiving duties.  It is challenging to realign my thinking and feeling to be able to feel fulfilled and valuable without external validation.  At a spiritual and intellectual level, I can find fulfillment without affirmation.  My insides, however, are not so mature and selfless. At the very least, it is nice to have been asked.

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The meal was good.  The eating was not.  Mary Ann got some food eaten, but not very much.  She would let me cut the meat and break the dessert’s crust into bite-sized pieces, but, again, she would not let me help her by feeding the food to her

This public place was tonight’s Parkinson’s Support Group Holiday meal.  Since everyone there is either a Caregiver or the one with Parkinson’s, I hoped Mary Ann might be more willing to allow me to help.  Not so.  The meal was catered by folks who do a nice job on the food.  They also had extra servers, more than would normally be needed when using a serving line.  The extra servers helped those of us who were trying to carry plates for two and those whose dexterity is limited.

We sat across from former parishioners that we have known for many years.  He has had Parkinson’s much longer than Mary Ann.  We enjoyed the various conversations. I guess to be more accurate, i enjoyed them.  Having retired from a profession filled with hours of converations and interactions with others, retirement has put a crimp in my opportunities to talk with folks.  As a result, when any opportunity arises, it is hard for me to shut up!

While I always tested very well in the quanitative portion of the standardized tests, the verbal scores were not quite as high.  That seems pretty odd to me since my life has always been about words.  I always loved words.  I used them to get out of fights with bullies (it helped that when I was in elementary school I was among the tallest and strongest of the kids  — I am still the same height I was in the Sixth or Seventh Grade).  I loved learning to use big words, always making sure I used them correctly.  Some people express their sadness with tears, their anger with violent actions, their frustrations by acting out, their happiness by shouting for joy, I talk.  I think and analyze and process and then frame the feelings with large quantities of words that help dissipate the pent up nervous energy created by the feelings.

At the same time, I love solitude.  I can spend hours just soaking in everything about the moment and the space I am in and the thoughts that fill my mind, often bumping up against one another.  I love the periodic retreats that provide almost three full days of utter solitude, walking, watching the wildlife, gazing at the clouds, smelling the scents, reading, thinking, journaling.

I guess what precipitated the above diversion from Mary Ann’s challenges  to my love for words is the fact that I need the time out with others more than Mary Ann does.  It is part of my therapy.  I am usually pretty ambivalent when outings are approaching, wanting to stay home to avoid the hassles associated with going out.  But when I get to the gathering, I thoroughly enjoy the interactions and conversations.

Back to Mary Ann’s struggles with eating.  When I asked Mary Ann about lunch today, she said she wanted BoBo’s for lunch. The Food Network’s Diners, Drive-ins and Dives did a special on BoBo’s.  We didn’t really have time to go into the diner to eat (it is the size of a postage stamp), so we got take-out from a drive-in stall.  I have to admit that it was a bit of a relief that we did not have time to go in.  One reason is that I wanted to eat the food we already have in the fridge (my frugal streak).  The second reason is that I have a hard time watching Mary Ann eat when the soft fish sandwich with tartar sauce is squishing through her fingers, dropping on the table, her clothes and the floor.  There, I said it!  I am ashamed to admit it.  Here she is struggling to deal with all she has been through, just trying to enjoy food that brings her pleasure, and I am so petty as to let a little messiness disturb me.

If we had had time, we would have gone into the diner to eat.  At least I usually don’t let my aversion to the messiness keep me from taking her out to whatever restaurant she chooses.  I am trying here to salvage a little positive self-image after admitting to such pettiness!

Mary Ann slept well last night — good for both of us.  She went to bed a little late tonight.  Let’s hope for a night filled with sleep!

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Yes, the parking was no picnic.  We ended up on the fifth level of the parking garage.  It was good that it was a warm and sunny day since that is the top level, uncovered.  The elevator took us to street level, where there were curbs between us and our destination.  Curbs make it virtually impossible for wheel chair travel.  There was access to the street available to us by heading away from our destination for a relatively short distance.  Then we had to head out into the street for about a half block to find a spot where the curb had been lowered for wheelchair access.  The ramp to the second floor entrance to the Pozez Education building was a long switchback with a pretty steep incline.

On the poaitive side, that climb provided some much needed exercise.  It was the annual Healthwise 55 Holiday Brunch.  This year it was extended to a fourth sitting beginning at 11:30am.   We always chuckle about the menu for the Healthwise 55 Brunch. It is an all-you-can-eat buffet.  There are scrambled eggs, sausage links, bacon, biscuits and gravy, doughnuts, muffins and a bowl of fruit.  I concluded that taking a cup of fruit freed me to have two helpings of everything else without guilt.

Mary Ann did pretty well at eating the eggs and bacon and fruit.  Since she is not ready to let me feed her in public, it is good that she was able to manage eating on her own.  She ate a couple of helpings of the eggs and bacon. It did surprise me that when we got home and settled, she popped up right away and headed toward the kitchen.  She wanted one of the two pieces of pecan pie she was convinced we had.  We had long since finished the pumkin pie from Thanksgiving.  Other than a couple of pieces of pecan pie that Jeanne had brought when we lunched together at our house ten or twelve days ago, there has been no pecan pie in the house.

This will be a food-filled week.  Yesterday, buddy Jimmy took me out for the usual monthly lunch.  I had a single order gourmet Italian sweet sausage and red pepper pizza that was the equivalent of a full-sized small pizza.  Then there were the bread sticks and the salad.  I brought home enough of the pizza for Mary Ann and I both to have some for supper.

Tomorrow the Liturgical Season of Advent begins with evening worship and a supper.  More social activity.  Then on Thursday comes the Parkinson’s Disease Support Group catered Holiday meal.  More social activity.  While eating in public has the potential of being awkward, embarrassing, uncomfortable, staying home will not make those problems go away.  By going out, we both become less sensitive to those externals.

Mary Ann did nap for a couple of hours this afternoon.  As always, I hope for both her sake and mine, that it is a restful night.

Addendum: Our Daughter Lisa had surgery on Monday.  The surgery went well.  She went home today and an is in recuperation mode.

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In forty years of calling on the sick, I can’t tell you how many times I heard from people who had gone through a surgery after they had recuperated, “I didn’t know how bad I felt before I had the surgery until now, now that I feel good again.”  I don’t think I realized just how heavy the weight was that I felt, thinking Mary Ann was declining at a faster and faster pace.

I can’t know how long the feeling will last since this is such a roller coaster ride we are on, but for the moment, it feels as if a deep and heavy sadness has been lifted.   Like a little child, I tend to act out when I am struggling with something.  I act out by getting grumpy.  I make no promises to anyone that I will now be nicer for a while, but there is a profound sense of relief.

Our Cardiologist, Dr. M, was a parishioner for the last dozen years of my ministry.  We have come to appreciate him very much.  He combines a lot of traits that a patient looks for in his/her doctor.  He takes the time to listen well.  Not only that, but he takes what the Patient and Caregiver have said into account when making decisions.  He is decisive in a way that respects those whose lives are impacted by those decisions.

He has made clear that he is not in the business of predicting the future and cannot answer the “how long” questions.  What he will do is disclose what he knows, analyze it and make a logical assessment of the situation.  While I am always looking for something that help clarify where we are on our journey, there simply are not definitive answers to my questions.

Today, I took an approach that allowed Dr. M to analyze the data with me and compare where we are to where we were eight months ago (the last round of tests).  He also looked back farther so that we could get a sense of the trajectory we are on, at least in terms of Mary Ann’s heart and kidneys.  The Neurologist is the one to ask about the Parkinson’s and Parkinson’s Disease Dementia.  The heart issues in particular provide the most concern in terms of longevity.

Dr M’s look at some key indicators seemed to reveal, that while Mary Ann’s heart and kidney health has declined, in most ways she has been moving back and forth along a pretty level trajectory.  Her numbers have been worse at times in the past than they are now.  They also have been better than they are now.

The conclusion seems to be that Mary Ann is fairly stable, not on a trajectory that is taking her quickly toward free fall.  Mary Ann and I are fully aware that something precipitous could happen, but the truth is, that is so for all of us.  The Parkinson’s itself has been moving very slowly.  There are not likely to be dramatic changes in its progress.  The Parkinson’s Disease Dementia, is another matter.  It is very unpredictable.  It changes in fits and starts and can turn on a dime in a new direction or return to a better place thought never to be seen again.  Other than trying to control the Autonomic malfunctions to the degree we can, we have only the Exelon patch to help with cognitive issues.

As to her heart and kidneys, it is the high blood pressure that is the enemy.  Today Dr. M responded favorably to my suggestion that we consider the addition of  Mestinon to Mary Ann’s medication regimen.  That drug has the potential of helping control the fainting by raising her BP only when she stands up, the time it drops thereby precipitating a fainting episode.  It is an off-label use of the drug, but there are no major concerns that militate against trying it.  It does not conflict with anything she is currently using.

My intention is to cut in half the dosage of the Midodrine (okay with Dr. M) for a few days, then add the Mestinon. It is always wise to change only one med’s dosage at a time so that any problematic changes that might occur will be easier to trace to the source.  I will try to take her BP as often as possible and ask our Parish Nurse if she would stop by to check it also. The goal is to use as little Midodrine as possible since it raises BP all the time, not just when standing.  BP is highest when lying down, since it does not have to fight gravity.

The information received today through Dr. M’s analysis helps in a couple of ways.  Both Mary Ann and I perceived what he said in a positive way.  I feel a sense of relief that revealed just how down I had felt about her perceived decline.  We understand her to be pretty stable and on a fairly flat trajectory in the progression of the heart and kidney problems.  Another way that we are helped by having more clarity on where we are in this journey, is that we can use our ability to deal with the challenges more efficiently.  We can’t afford wasting our days fighting things we cannot change.   We can’t afford to waste our energy because we are in denial about the realities of our situation.  As I have said before, a certain amount of well-placed denial can be very helpful in living through our days as meaningfully as possible.  However, we need to know what to accept and what to fight.  We don’t want to accept something when we should be fighting it, nor do we want to fight something that it is time to accept.  Today helped us better discern what to fight and what to accept.

At least tonight, my assessment is that I had moved toward acceptance of a more rapid decline than is actually happening.  I feel more bold now about stretching the limits of what we are doing.  I will, of course, not be foolish about tackling things that put us at an unhealthy risk.  A certain amount of risk, however, is necessary to stay alive and well.  After so many years of practice, we have ways of dealing with most of the problems that arise when things do not go well.  If we try something and it goes badly, we will deal with it and try something else.

I guess it has been a good day!

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“Today I read an article in Web MD that male caregivers were more likely to leave their wives than female cg to leave their husbands, so kudos to all you guys that have stayed with your wives!!!”

That is a quote from one of those in the Caregiving Spouses group.  It started a stream of posts wondering why that might be so.  In that stream of conversation came the statistic that 40% of Caregivers in general are male.  I am reporting what was written about male Caregivers.  I have no formal verification that what was reported is accurate.

Assuming that more husband Caregivers leave their wives than the other way around, there are some things that I and others mentioned might be part of the reason that is so.  It is hard to talk about this without unfairly stereotyping men and women.  As is the case with most generalizations, it is not true that anyone is bound to be a certain way.  Each of us is unique and needs to be judged on who we are and what we do, not some external sterotype.

With that said, my generation and my parents’ generation grew up with certain assumptions about the roles of men and women that may play into how each does in the caregiving role.  I can remember my Dad standing in the kitchen, the room with the coffee maker, calling out to my Mom, asking for her to get him a cup of coffee.

Dad was not harsh and demanding, it was just the way it was.  Mom wasn’t meek and mild, she stood up for herself, but it was just the way things were done in our household.  By the way, even though I grew up that way, and Mary Ann did as well, I would never have gotten away with such a silly request.

The culture of roles in my experience was that men were often not raised to be caregivers.  Mom did the cooking and cleaning and child-rearing, and Dad went to work, took care of the home repairs and outside maintenance of the house and yard.  He also took care of the finances.  Mom and Dad talked about decisions.  It was not that Dad ruled.  They just each had roles like the ones they grew up with.  Dad was born in 1901 and Mom in 1907.

Dad bowled, golfed, watched boxing and wrestling on television (after we finally got one when I was eleven years old).  Mom did lots of sewing, was active at church, doing what then was perceived to be women’s tasks, most often serving others in some way or teaching children, singing in the choir.

For those men who grew up in that sort of setting, taking care of someone else was moving into pretty foreign territory.  I have to admit, that the caregiving model of behavior has been quite a stretch for me.  I grew up at least as self-centered as most males of my generation (again a risky generalization).  I am flying by the seat of my pants here.

I joke about not doing a good job of providing meals.  While I am a reasonably intelligent person and certainly am capable of cooking a meal, the pattern of what to do and when to do it when cooking is not in that portion of the brain that I call automatic pilot.  It is the place in which the “never forget how to ride a bike” sort of information is kept.  Every time I think about preparing a meal, I have to start from scratch, figuring out every element of the task as if I have never done it before.

Yes, I put colors and whites together, cram the washer full and just switch the dial to cold water only so that everything won’t come out the same color.  Sewing buttons on is a ridiculously challenging task.

I suspect that for some caregiving husbands who bail out on their wives, the difficulty of the tasks, their inexperience with doing them, their selfishness and stereotypical view of who should serve and who should be served, combine to overwhelm them, and they just run away.

It seems to me that whether male or female, there is one simple reality.  We made a promise out of love for one another.  We gave our word.  To run away seems silly.  To where would we run?  Our broken promise would go with us wherever we went.  What exactly would there be to be gained that would be worth having?

I have had the privilege in forty years of ministry to be allowed to see into the most intimate corners of the lives of many hundreds of people.  For the most part I have seen men and women alike who love and care for one another, honor their commitments and keep their word to one another.  It is the way to live with meaning and purpose the lives we have been given.

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Mary Ann’s day seemed to go reasonably well.  There was no napping, although a few times during the day her head hung pretty low, resting on the arm of her transfer chair.  Each time I asked her if she wanted to go in the bedroom and nap or stay out in the living room, she opted for the living room.

Zandra, her bath aide, came this morning, but she was pretty sleepy through the shower and getting dressed.   By lunch time, she was open to going out to get something to eat.  She did pretty well with a hamburger cut into quarters.  She let me cut it into quarters for her, but she would not have tolerated my putting it to her mouth to help her since we were out in public.

After lunch, we headed to the grocery store.  As tired as she seemed, she loves going to the store and reminded me that I had mentioned that possibility.  It is still a marvel to me how it is possible for us to go through so much food, as little as Mary Ann eats.  A few items on the list always seem to grow to a basket full.

After supper (Mary’s pork, dressing and gravy), Mary Ann watched television for a while, went to bed, got up again to watch some more televison in the living room, then returned to bed, where at the moment she seems settled.

In between lunch and the grocery, we drove up to Cedar Crest, and while Mary Ann sat in the car, I took about a mile long walk.  That is the first time I have walked for exercise since before the trip to Hot Springs.

My excuses for not keeping up with the exercise walking that began a few weeks ago are legion:

First, there was a break in the pattern that had developed.  The trip to Hot Springs was the first break — about a week.  Then came the hospital stay.  The walking was beginning to take on the character of a habit before the break.

Then, the hospital stay wore us both out.  I was pretty tired when we got home.  Mary Ann was dealing with such confusion and a lower level of functionality pretty much precluding my leaving her to walk.

Those first days back from the hospital, she slept pretty much all day long every day.  I couldn’t leave the house for a moment while she was sleeping.

After a while, she was and still is often getting up pretty early in the morning.  Before the trip she was doing so well that I felt comfortable walking for about a half hour before she got up for the day.  I always made sure she had gone to the bathroom, and I put the Lifeline button around her neck.  When she gets up early, walking is not an option.

When Volunteers have come recently, once I did take a walk.  The other times, the weather has been bad, or I just decided I was too tired to do it.

The last few weeks after the hospital stay have seemed especially stressful.  That is my excuse for returning to eating endless snacks to provide a treat, or just give me something to do to self-medicate.

It is true that working out times to walk has been more difficult in these past weeks.  The trouble with that truth is that it is not the only truth in this situation.  I am a resourceful person.  With enough commitment and will power, I should be able to figure out how to get regular exercise.

And, of course, no one is shoving the food into my mouth.   If there will be food in the house or food on the table, I am the one who will put it there.  It is not as if I have no choice about what ends up on that table.

My excuse relative to food, is that I am trying to give Mary Ann things she likes and she needs lots of calories.  Of course, I do not have to eat the same thing she is eating.  It is my choice.

I have cancelled, at least for the moment, the exercise and weight control program at the exercise therapy clinic that I was going to begin after the trip.  After the hospital stay, Mary Ann was doing so badly for a while that I didn’t think it would work to try to have her with me, sitting in on an exercise class.

Mary Ann is enough better that I should be reconsidering starting that program.  Now with the holidays looming, that excuse has kept me from making the call to set the appointment.

Under the best of circumstances it is hard to develop and maintain a good set of self-care disciplines.  We are not in the best of circumstances.  All sorts of excuses to avoid good eating and exercise habits are readily available.  The irony, of course, is that good eating habits and good exercise habits translate directly into feeling better and being better able to do the task of Caregiving.  Sometimes we are our own worst enemies.

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I knew it would happen!  It was not a disaster, just inconvenient timing.  In the middle of the prayers in the Evening Service at church tonight, Mary Ann whispered, “I need to go to the bathroom.”  That she did not wait for a more opportune moment to say something made clear to me immediately that we were not talking about a minor matter.

I have seen the dark cloud gathering the last three days as there was virtually no intestinal activity.  I know, are we never happy?  In some recent posts I have mentioned the bit of something close to diarrhea that came after the hospital stay.  That stopped and Mary Ann started eating better.  It was not rocket science to figure out that at some point, three days of eating well and producing little would at some point produce a lot.

At certain points in the prayers tonight, when information on the next petition request was being gathered, I moved to the lobby area, got the wheel chair and returned to the pew.  As soon as the prayers were done, a seemingly interminable length of time, I got Mary Ann into the chair, and we burned rubber taking off to get to the women’s rest room.  Mary (who schedules the Volunteers from church for Mary Ann) was available and willing to guard the door to the restroom.

While we were in the the women’s room together, Mary Ann can’t deal with that particular matter by herself, a number of ladies needed to be turned away.  Gratefully there are rest rooms on the lower level also.  One person was in such need that she headed into the men’s room while Mary watched the door for her.

Actually, I had anticipated this problem earlier in the day. As the dark cloud loomed, I expected two or three days of work getting the job done.  I thought it might begin soon, so I added a package of flushable wipes to the contents of Mary Ann’s purse when we left for church this evening.

The time at church began with a Thanksgiving dinner provided by our Junior Youth program.  The food was great.  The two youth at our table, Trina and Makynna, did a great job of serving. They also participated in the table conversation, noting afterward that the two men at the table seemed to do all the talking.  Eddie and I just have lots of things that we are convinced need to be said!

The meal was followed by the worship service.  I thought that being out for such a long time this afternoon/evening would increase the likelihood of her intestines becoming active.  As inconvenient as was the timing and how long it took, the activity seems to point to a return to more normal and regular production. That is a good thing.

Those of you who are Caregivers can appreciate the observation that intestines rule.  One of the main reasons we make virtually no commitments that can’t pretty easily be cancelled at the last minute is the unknown of when intestinal activity will happen.  One of the earliest posts I wrote last winter described one of the areas of responsibility in a Caregiver’s portfolio as waste management.

I guess the counsel for Caregivers is that we learn to take in stride the duties that  come with the the role of Waste Manager.   We may as well concede that the colon has been crowned king.  Otherwise we will squander precious time being frustrated, grumpy and feeling sorry for ourselves. I suspect we have already spent enough of the few days we have on such self-defeating pursuits.

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Mary Ann got up early this morning since she had no supper last evening, other than a couple of snacks during the night.  She ate a good breakfast with help, took her pills and ended up back in bed for almost four hours. 

She ate a pretty good sized lunch, and we spent a while just sitting with the television on.   Actually, I tend to be up and about doing anything I can think of to keep from just watching television.  I was back and forth to the computer, outside to check on the birds, got the mail, paid some bills. 

Finally I asked Mary Ann if she would be willing to head out for a bit, even if she just sat in the car while I did a couple of things.  I had mentioned that I wanted to visit a small but nice art gallery on a local college campus.  Our deal was that I would just go in for a short visit, assuming she wanted to stay in the car.  That seemed to be her intention.

I had reached the point in the day that I just could no longer tolerate sitting around the house on a warm day, cloudy, but warm enough to be out.  Gratefully, she decided she would go into the art museum with me.  It took a while to find the handicapped entrance, on the opposite end of the building from the handicapped parking places. 

Once inside, there were two major exhibitions that were very interesting.   One is called “Stickworks.”  It is pretty much indescribable.  There are huge sort of huts on the lawn of the museum.  People can walk into and through them.  They are made from intertwining saplings into surprising shapes and structures. 

Inside the museum are photographs of one after another sculptures made with willow branches and saplings, each stretching the imagination more than the last.  Even though they are two dimensional photographs, the sculptures seem almost living.  That room in the museum left me wondering how someone could even imagine creating such unusual pieces.  The link for the artist is http://www.stickwork.net/news.php

The next exhibit made the one I just described seem quite ordinary.  It was called “Hybrid Visions” by Ken Butler.  An article online from the university described what he does in this way:  “He is internationally recognized as an innovator of experimental musical instruments created from diverse materials including tools, sports equipment and household objects.”

This exhibit has to be seen to be believed.  Ken Butler takes everything from the backs of old wooden chairs to a laptop computer and creates musical instruments that, apparently, can be played.   This is impossible to describe because no one who has not seen it would have existing in their minds reference points to which to relate the descriptors. 

While this has nothing to do with Caregiving other than our getting out of the house, doing something stimulating to keep this Caregiver from going crazy, there is an odd sort of metaphorical implication for framing our existence in terms of the exhibit.  If it is possible to piece together found items that appear to have been gathered from dumpsters and front parkings on garbage day, add some guitar/violin/cello strings and make music, maybe we can piece together a life of good quality and make our own sort of music. 

I think that interpretation is a little contrived and heavy-handed for something so whimsical as “Hybrid Visions.”  Oh well, remember, I spent forty years looking for sermon material wherever I could find it, so that the message of the Scripture readings could become more accessible in contemporary terms.  It is an occupational hazard.

Mary Ann has gone to bed and seems to be settled for the moment.  We will again hope for a quiet night.

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.

Who knew there was a word for it?  The online caregiving spouses of those with Lewy Body Dementia (or some form of it) recently contained a line of posts titled Anosognosia.  Wikipedia defines it this way: Anosognosia is a condition in which a person who suffers disability seems unaware of or denies the existence of his or her disability.

Actually, those who have been reading this blog for very long, have heard me describe a variety of behaviors that could be described with the word Anosgnosia. 

When anyone asks Mary Ann about cooking, her response is always: “They won’t let me in the kitchen any more.”  What she seems to be saying is that she could cook and chop and handle hot pans and sharp knives and prepare meals, if only we (I) would let her. 

Mary Ann will often start to undress while standing up, even though for a number of years now, her balance and coordination have not allowed her to do so without falling. 

She has headed into the bedroom to get sewing paraphernalia to do repair work, most often on something that ends up being a hallucination. 

While I sometimes do it, I dislike reminding her that what she is attempting  is something she can no longer do on account of the Parkinson’s.  I think the better choice when confronting some attempt at doing something no longer within her capability, is to redirect her attention to something else. 

As troublesome as are the times she acts as if she has no limitations on account of the Parkinson’s, I can’t help wondering if they are not part of the reason she is doing so well.  As much as she has been through, it is hard to understand how she is able to do maintain such a high level of functionality in so many areas. 

Today went pretty well.  She slept in late, essentially tacking her morning nap on to the end of her night’s sleep.  She had a good breakfast, a fairly substantial lunch.  We went out for a ride to Ensley Gardens (I walked through them while she chose to stay in the car) and a treat at the Baskin and Robbin’s on the other side of town. 

Mary came over, brought the promised pork, dressing and gravy, and spent about an hour talking with Mary Ann while I worked at the computer.   Since I tend to be quick to respond in conversation, my presence makes it hard for Mary Ann to be engaged in conversation.  My leaving the room for a time allows her to interact more freely with friends. 

Again, she has gone to bed early, without supper.  I guess by now I should know that a mid to late afternoon ice cream treat is going to interfere with her eating supper.  I suspect she will be up to have snacks during the night.  I will, of course, need to assist in that activity. 

The last couple of afternoons (before today), I have left the house for a time while a friend spent time with Mary Ann.  I have spent the time in a different way from usual.  Rather than sitting in the car in some natural setting to read or listen to music, or going for a walk, I have visited a number of small art galleries here.  I am pretty much devoid of any knowledge in the area of the visual arts, but I am intrigued by them. 

At most of the stops at galleries, there has been a docent or artist or owner there who was willing to spend some time in conversation.  I have learned a bit about the art scene here, and how some of the artists have approached their subjects, what processes they have used.  It has been very interesting, opening a new window on reality for these well-worn eyes. 

The conversations have nourished a discovery I made decades ago.  There is more than what first meets the eye in most of what we see.  Whether it is a landscape, a city street, buildings, trash, telephone poles, growing plants in any stage, people, there are many ways to see them.  What artists often do is provide new ways to see the ordinary.  While I have no natural ability or inclinations in producing visual art pieces, my interest has been piqued. 

One of the artists described her fascination with shadows on the water in a pond or stream or lake.  The shaded area of the water’s surface reveals what lies beneath the surface.  Lighted areas show a reflection of what is above.  It is a phenomenon I have noticed when out walking with my binoculars around my neck.  Often I will look for those shaded areas to see if I can locate fish or turtles or frogs. 

In a couple of the visits yesterday and the day before, the descriptions of a particular art piece triggered the impulse to write and preach a sermon using the piece as a visual aid.  I had enough sense to spare the poor person describing the work from my launching into three part homily on the implications of that piece for their spiritual growth. 

One of the artists described her fascination with shadows on the water in a pond or stream or lake.  The shaded area of the water’s surface reveals what lies beneath the surface.  Lighted areas show a reflection of what is above.  It is a phenomenon I have noticed when out walking with my binoculars around my neck.  Often I will look for those shaded areas to see if I can spot fish or turtles or frogs.   That thought caused my sermon muscles to twitch for a moment. 

Maybe I can convince Mary Ann to consent to a trip into KC to the Nelson again.  There are rooms filled with art pieces, some incomprehensible, some boring (in the eyes of the beholder — me), some exciting, some very thought provoking.  They also serve a great lunch in the Roselle Court.  We will see.

After such a tough time post hospital stay, this one has been a pretty good week. 

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.