just the dog and I. All is quiet as the man is out at choir. I love Monday evenings. We have an early supper and he is gone by just after 7. Looking back on the day I feel I haven’t really done very much. I’ve made a sourdough loaf, played around with pieces of paper on a graph trying to get the easiest and most economical way to lay slabs to make a greenhouse floor. None of today’s tasks too taxing until I got to the hospital for my voluntary shift. For some strange reason today I struggled with the demands that dementia puts on people. One patient in particular has become more anxious since last I saw her.
‘Don’t leave me, I have so much still to do, the menu hasn’t been agreed!’ Another lady who has been there for months was due to go home today only for it to be cancelled due to flood water across her drive. One patient I thought I would never see again is brighter, talking, eating. Dying is a strange thing, you go when your time has come, she lives to see another day.
I felt drained as I walked up to himself waiting in the car to take me to the builder’s merchant to choose paving. Usually as I walk home I use it as a time of reflection, each footstep helping me to carefully shake off the pain of feeling helpless in the face of the gradual deterioration of others lives.
My ex neighbour, the very elderly lady who went into a care home last year, is now losing her marbles and it has become much more difficult to visit her. I struggle with stories to tell her, I try to remember all sorts of things to tell her but then I get there and she tells me she's in a hurry as she's somewhere to be or she tells me she was just about to visit me! I was last there three weeks ago, it was the last time we had some decent (dry) weather and I was out walking the dog and we passed the care home and on a whim I went in and asked if they would mind if I brought him to see her. They were thrilled and all the residents loved seeing him including my neighbour. Sonny is a very good natured dog and sat and enjoyed all the adulation. I now wonder if I should do that every time now, it certainly brightened everyone up and meant I didn't have to do the story thing! It's a strain dealing with dementia and old age in general, I suppose we subconsciously worry for our own future perhaps. I know I don't want to end up in a care home, thats for sure!! I hope you're all slabbed up now. I assume he's now agreed to the greenhouse?? xx
ReplyDeleteOur volunteer supervisor has suggested we bring in Ellie, she at this stage isn’t perhaps ready to meet her public. If I were you I’d do it every time, fussing and stroking a dog is worth a thousand words. Let Sonny do the talking!
DeleteThe green house is ordered the slabs are chosen, patience and hard graft is now the name of the game. I love a bit of navvying! Patience, now that is a skill I haven’t get mastered!
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You are a wonderful writer. Jean from Manitoba Canada
ReplyDeleteAah thank you Jean. Must say it gives me pleasure although at times my prose can be clanky and odd! I write my take on life, sometimes irreverent, always true and I love using words that are not quite right, although folk do seem to get the gist? I’m happy!
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That's a tough assignment you've given yourself. Thank you for taking care to notice these people. You make all the difference.
ReplyDeleteNever known to take the easy option Joanne! The good, the bad and the ugly... I love life... trite, but there you are. In the mix is the only place to be.
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I had hoped, when I had Alexi as a pup, over 6 yrs ago, that he might become a "PAT" dog, but it became clear as he grew up that he isn't particularly enthusiastic enough about meeting strangers. He is too " laid back"! I did take him briefly to a day care centre that my old lady was at, but he only went to anyone if they had a treat for him. I had a sad day yesterday too, as a friend's dog managed to impale herself on a branch and ripped her side open...30 stitches. Luckily I had departed the field before it happened as I sobbed just reading about it on our whatsapp group ! Apparently Juno, the dog had a reasonable night, but she must be in such pain. Sally thought she was a gonner when she first found her!
ReplyDeleteHow did it happen.. what a shock? Ellie bounds through the woods, if it happened just the same I now won’t be so laid back about it!
DeleteWe wait until Ellie morphs into the big brave dog we know is in there, then she will be on the payroll, as it were!?!
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Dementia is never easy to deal with from either side. I remember a Canadian journalist on TV (Michael Ignatieff?) saying what his mother told him. That it was like walking in and out of a cloud, and you did what you could when out of the cloud. Our neighbour over the road is caring for his wife who has serious dementia now.
ReplyDeleteOn good days she will get up and clean the house...but tire herself out completely. He has to be careful not to be seen visiting neighbours, or he is accused of having an affair. He hasn't been out of the village for two months.
On a lighter note, good to hear the gardening news.
I think the worst bit must be the realisation that you are walking in and out of the cloud that is dementia. The fear of the next cloud hoving into view must be immense. As the disease progresses you become less aware as the cloud embraces you deeper into its folds. A ghastly thing for all.
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