It has been another of those lazy summer weeks. Not much really happens. Today we took Dad to a birthday party for a friend of ours who is turning 80. He knows her. She goes to our church. I don't think he has it figured out yet whose birthday party it was. He asked someone else if it was a big surprise (like it was their birthday and were they surprised) but they assured him it was the other lady's birthday. That didn't make much of an impression. Oh, well, he got to socialize for a while with someone other than us and we got to go to a friend's birthday party.
Last Sunday at church a number of volunteer options were being presented. At each one he eagerly raised his hand. He was miffed when he asked me later what it was he could do at the church and I told him there weren't many options for him. He really wants to teach Sunday school, but of course, that is not even a remote option and so he was rather angry. It didn't last long. By Sunday night he had apparently forgotten his desire to do something and hasn't mentioned it again in any fashion since. That leaves the bottom line that not much has really been happening. Just a lazy week of July, hot and slow, like July should be. A bit of normalcy in his descent. Oh, and he is still happy.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Slow week for Joe
If you remember the Nat King Cole song "Those Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer" then you are the right age to appreciate being a "Tweener" like myself. As a point of review a "tweener" is an adult who is the primary caregiver for an older adult while still having children at home. That's me. Two jobs, one child left at home and taking care of my dad. Anyway, that's not the point. The point today is that we are in those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer. The emphasis is on lazy this week. Other than my birthday notching me up another year, not much has really been happening. I am a new grand-uncle. That happened on my birthday. That makes my dad a new great grandfather for the 5th time. He really didn't have too much to do for that. He enjoyed the company that came for my birthday. He likes company. My brother sat and visited with just him until Dad got too tired to stay up any longer and went to bed. Personal attention is always a big hit. Aside from that it was same ol', same ol'. Routine is good for people with Alzheimer's, so this was a good week for him. We did take him to the store one day and his card playing companion came as always on Tuesday. Nothing else. He has rebounded a little from falling off the edge as reported last week, but his rebound is not nearly as high as the distance from which he fell. That's OK. That is the way it will be and he is still happy.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
A Little Confused Joe
There have been signs of Dad's Alzheimer's for many years. Confusion is one of them, and it becomes more pronounced as the disease progresses. The way that it suddenly makes a leap from little apparent confusion to much greater confusion is always astounding. One of those sudden leaps occurred this week. We have to remember that Dad has been struggling with his words more and more for some time. This week it was like he lost the battle.
At his day care center they have activities for the clients all day long. The only ones he usually remembers, however, are the ones most immediately before he comes home. This past Friday he was trying to tell us about an activity that they had done that he had seemingly enjoyed a great deal. Unfortunately we are still not completely certain what it was. Words seemed to stream from his mouth without saying anything. Maybe it was "hangman" or maybe it was a group word search, I suppose it doesn't really matter. He would sputter and speak syllables and then word groups that made no sense while my bride and I played 20 questions to elicit an answer that made sense. It never came. I then asked him if it was the last activity of the day. He had a hard time with that so I repeated the question more slowly. His answer, at least the answer that I heard, was, "It was before the chicken coop." My bride who is much smarter than I am knew that he said it was before the bus came.
Saturday morning at breakfast we could hear the neighbors installing a new front porch. I said, "The neighbors are putting on a new front porch today." He said, "What is that?" I explained it and he asked "Why?". Again I explained, but I didn't know what he was thinking. After he finished eating he went to the front door and looked out the window. "You have a nice front porch." He thought it was our front porch and he wanted to help build it. Then he started saying another group of nonsense syllables and then he asked me if I "wanted a blue march." Now, I know what he meant by "march", but what did he mean by "blue"? Readers summit your comments. Again, my bride knew.
Later that morning I was outside painting windows when he stuck his head out the door and asked, "Do you have medicine for go fast behind?" Readers? I am getting into his lingo a little and knew what he wanted and sent him in search of my bride who would both know what he wanted and give it to him. He has had much greater conceptual problems since Friday night. It just seemed to happen, and it hasn't cleared up even a little. One more piece of the puzzle fell out. But he is still happy. Happy is good.
At his day care center they have activities for the clients all day long. The only ones he usually remembers, however, are the ones most immediately before he comes home. This past Friday he was trying to tell us about an activity that they had done that he had seemingly enjoyed a great deal. Unfortunately we are still not completely certain what it was. Words seemed to stream from his mouth without saying anything. Maybe it was "hangman" or maybe it was a group word search, I suppose it doesn't really matter. He would sputter and speak syllables and then word groups that made no sense while my bride and I played 20 questions to elicit an answer that made sense. It never came. I then asked him if it was the last activity of the day. He had a hard time with that so I repeated the question more slowly. His answer, at least the answer that I heard, was, "It was before the chicken coop." My bride who is much smarter than I am knew that he said it was before the bus came.
Saturday morning at breakfast we could hear the neighbors installing a new front porch. I said, "The neighbors are putting on a new front porch today." He said, "What is that?" I explained it and he asked "Why?". Again I explained, but I didn't know what he was thinking. After he finished eating he went to the front door and looked out the window. "You have a nice front porch." He thought it was our front porch and he wanted to help build it. Then he started saying another group of nonsense syllables and then he asked me if I "wanted a blue march." Now, I know what he meant by "march", but what did he mean by "blue"? Readers summit your comments. Again, my bride knew.
Later that morning I was outside painting windows when he stuck his head out the door and asked, "Do you have medicine for go fast behind?" Readers? I am getting into his lingo a little and knew what he wanted and sent him in search of my bride who would both know what he wanted and give it to him. He has had much greater conceptual problems since Friday night. It just seemed to happen, and it hasn't cleared up even a little. One more piece of the puzzle fell out. But he is still happy. Happy is good.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Major League Joe
The 4th of July gave us all a chance to get away for the day. What a wonderful break. We went to visit two of our sons in another town. Dad had seemed to be a little confused about what was going to happen, but he was excited to not have to go to the adult day care for a day. So we all set off for a fun filled day. He, of course, wanted to talk all the way there (two hours), but he mumbles so badly that it was almost always impossible to answer him. If you ask him what he said, he usually doesn't remember. I told him before we started that I couldn't hear him while I was driving, but that has no effect, so he yakked on anyway.
It was hot on the 4th, but we had a very nice picnic lunch. Then we went to the park to play whiffle ball. We took along a lawn chair for Dad to sit in the shade and watch the game. He hates, and I mean he literally detests, anything smacking of exercise. But he said, "No, I am not going to sit here and watch. I am going to play, too." Surprise, surprise. I feared he would just keel over dead in the heat, but I figured that if he died doing what he expressly stated he wanted to do that he would at least die happily.
But what position was he going to play? We decided that he would always be on offense. We only had 7 players, so he could bat clean-up for both teams. He also wanted to be the catcher, so that was fine. We agreed there would be no plays at the plate. He had a difficult time with the concepts of playing with only 7 total players. He had a hard time keeping track of outs. He had a hard time with the concept of ghost runners (when the bases were loaded and someone had to leave 3rd base to play catcher). But most importantly, he had a good time. He got 3 hits and ran the bases by himself. That was astounding. He never seemed to be worn out for even a minute. It was a shining day for Dad: a day of sunshine in his descent.
It was hot on the 4th, but we had a very nice picnic lunch. Then we went to the park to play whiffle ball. We took along a lawn chair for Dad to sit in the shade and watch the game. He hates, and I mean he literally detests, anything smacking of exercise. But he said, "No, I am not going to sit here and watch. I am going to play, too." Surprise, surprise. I feared he would just keel over dead in the heat, but I figured that if he died doing what he expressly stated he wanted to do that he would at least die happily.
But what position was he going to play? We decided that he would always be on offense. We only had 7 players, so he could bat clean-up for both teams. He also wanted to be the catcher, so that was fine. We agreed there would be no plays at the plate. He had a difficult time with the concepts of playing with only 7 total players. He had a hard time keeping track of outs. He had a hard time with the concept of ghost runners (when the bases were loaded and someone had to leave 3rd base to play catcher). But most importantly, he had a good time. He got 3 hits and ran the bases by himself. That was astounding. He never seemed to be worn out for even a minute. It was a shining day for Dad: a day of sunshine in his descent.
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