Archive for May, 2009

We visited a large bedding plant centre – he loved walking along with me, helping  load plants and pull the cart.

Only one little glitch there – he was about to set plants on the cart when a 30′ish lady walked up. He looked at her and asked if they were hers. ***Cold stare***

If I had the chance, I would have explained we are dealing with AD – but he stayed right at my arm.

Commenters  mentioned they maybe look at people/situations in a different light after reading our blog – if so, it’s been worth it.

As usual, thanks for all your support.

He is such a dear

I feel so, so guilty

It’s just so frustrating

What is it like

How does One function

In a fog all day?

I listen to myself

Sound like a recorder

Turn on the light

Yes, you wanted the bathroom

No, don’t come back here

Go down the hall

Why? Cause you need the bathroom

Yes, Buddy’s been fed

A thousand times “yes” to myself

I just had a bath. No, it was Friday.

Take your jeans off for bed

Take your slippers off

Mark’s in Vancouver with MiHwa

Let me help you with your runners

We fed Buddy, did we?

No, get in the front seat

I’ll help you get the grocery cart

Come here, let’s wash

I just washed

No, that was this morning, let’s wash

No, Brian is at his home

Buzzzzzzzz – my brain is buzzing, my heart is hurting, his brain’s not working

Why is my heart racing

What is that stabbing pain

Why the nausea

Time to go to bed, sleep it off, so to speak. Get up and start all over again. Tonight I listened to “us” – Lordy, sounds like a tape recorder. The poor guy can’t do anything on his own. I really don’t mind, he would do this and more for me. I’m afraid I could crack and not be able to function for a bit. I’ve always been known a wimp, physically. At what point do I say “enough” even tho I want to carry on?

There is guilt for home care – he is cooling toward the care aids

Guilt for day care – he hates it

Guilt cause I feel guilty

Guilt cause we had respite, well, I did. He was so hurt to be put in a care facility

He is funny, kind and gentle. Feel so sorry for him, sorry for me. Someone mentioned that they  “miss us”  and the things we used to do – I miss us, too.

But, tomorrow is another day, we’re planting pots for the deck. Maybe that will kick start me again.

As I moved the cursor to hit publish, he asked, “So we fed Buddy, didn’t we?” The poor guy.

Our stage in this (awful) disease is rather like having a very kind, obedient, “trying to be helpful” child. I mean absolutely no disrespect toward Wayne – the disease has done it’s dirty work. (I guess I’ve told you over and over – I hate you Alzheimer’s)

We shopped using only a basket today – he laughed and teased me about how heavy it was etc. My heart raced, “Is he being totally normal? Is it fixed?”

Get to the cashier and we are second in line. “Stay right here and you may unload the basket.”

I ran about 8 or 10 feet to grab an item – upheaval. He emptied our basket into the stack of baskets on the floor. We did not hold anyone up but the curious looks broke my heart for him.Thank goodness he was oblivious as was so busy trying to figure it out.

Just started emptying that basket and placing everything up for the cashier.

A wonderful young fellow, about 25 years of age, stood behind us with one item. Told him to go ahead of us. He refused kindly and our eyes met. I honestly want to think he was the only kind and compasionate person in the line.

Will I ever learn – - -

Buddy “starts” at 5 a.m. – he knows it’s useless to bug Wayne – a freight train could barrel thru our bedroom – maybe he’d roll over.

Anyway, Buddy crawls up on Wayne to try to out stare and intimidate me – as if, Buddy. Today was funny, Wayne’s so asleep that he’s patting and stroking the pillow, not Buddy.

Buddy follows Wayne’s hand, then appears to stare at the wall trying to digest what’s happening, looks at me, “What’s going on, Mom?” It was all I could do to not burst out laughing.

Wayne always defends Buddy saying he has a brain the size of a pea (so forgive him for whatever) – think “Dad” was right, Buddy.

What always amazes me is how Buddy hangs on to Wayne -  like a small ship in a storm – on nights when his body is suffering from extreme spasms, Buddy rides it out. I think it may be called love or being a true buddy.

We have a husband/wife team in spiffing up the place and also doing some renos.

Today, the guy called Wayne down to see the deck and ask if he’s happy with it. I was keeping an eye on the situation and next thing, they have Wayne holding wood, generally helping.

You guys will never know how wonderful it must feel for Wayne to know he is helpful and needed.

Bless your hearts and hopefully you will be repaid a hundred fold.