Day by Day – August 2007

DAY BY DAY – AUGUST 2007

Saturday, August 4…

I volunteer at the local hospital in what’s called the ‘Adult Day Care Center’. Many caregivers bring their loved one, one to five times a week, depending on their circumstances and needs. Many participants, as they are referred to, have Alzheimer’s, dementia, are stroke victims, etc.

I have gotten to know some of the patients pretty well. Well enough to fall in love with them, at least.

I’d like to tell you about them, but am going to give them fictitious names, for obvious reasons.

There’s Gina and I think she’s one of my favorites. She had a stroke. She can’t do much with her right hand and uses a cane but she’s smart and quick witted. But today was a sad day for me, for every week that I have volunteered she has remembered me. Except for today. That broke my heart. Not that she didn’t remember me, but that she didn’t remember me. And that’s what broke my heart. But Gina still encouraged me, and the others that were there today – with her wit and her beautiful smile, even though she slept most of the day because she was so tired. And she taught me how to play one of the greatest card games I’ve ever played and we’ve played it together since, each time I go. Except for today. She was too tired. I missed my regular Gina.

Then there’s Jean. She’s soft-spoken, quiet, and so adorable. She needs help with most everything and says many things that don’t make much sense. But today she sat next to Gina and rubbed Gina’s hands so that they’d feel better, as they were very stiff and closed up. And Robert likes to sit next to Jean because she’s so sweet and kind and quiet. She also has the most beautiful smile ever. And she loves jewelry and can tell you where she’s gotten every piece she wears.

Robert is withdrawn, to a point, which is why he probably prefers people around him like Jean. He gets nervous. Today is the first time I’ve gone that I’ve seen him smile. And he also has a beautiful smile. He is always adorable in his white pants and shirt and suspenders. But today he was especially nervous because we had a new participant, Cheryl.

Cheryl is blind and has severe dementia and gets very distressed if she isn’t holding her ‘baby’ – a little doll, wrapped in a flannel blanket. She spent much of the day wandering and getting acquainted with her new surroundings, which she will most likely forget about and be distressed again when she comes back. But, she has a beautiful voice and sang all day long and knew every single song the little couple played, who so willingly come each week to sing and play for these special people.

Karen, one of our nurses in the center, is so sweet and took care of Cheryl most the day, trying to keep her as calm as possible, singing and humming along with her. Karen is merciful and so kind to these people and Steven adores her, even if he has to look at her badge to remember her name. From week to week, Steven may forget Karen’s name, but never her kindness towards him.

I think Steven is one of my favorites, as well. He is so thoughtful. He is very young, but has suffered a terrible accident that not only left him partially handicapped, but suffers from short-term memory loss as well, at the young age of 43. But he can tell you all about his experiences in the Marines and sing all the songs and Steven can light up a room with his smile and make your day with his sweet encouragements and kindness. And he’s so helpful and never misses a please or thank you and makes sure you get those thoughtful words, if someone else neglected to offer theirs.

Patsy has Multiple Sclerosis and has several other physical struggles that she deals with. There isn’t too much she can do on her own at 59 or so. But Patsy is so loving, so positive. And so grateful. She comes each day because she needs care and her husband still needs to work. And he comes right away after work each day to pick her up. And they love each other so very much. And there is not much she can do for him anymore, but oh how he loves her – just for who she is. That is unconditional love, I’d say.

And then there’s Harriet. Funny Harriet. Ornery Harriet. She is a riot and has been known to raise quite a ruckus. I’ve never seen Harriet dance but today she did. Holding on to the nurse’s hands, she got down big time and we all laughed as she had the time of her life for a few minutes today, as that’s all the energy she had for the time being. She loves her little stuffed dog Flopsy and doesn’t go anywhere without him. Threaten to take him, as one older gentleman did, and you take the chance of getting a beating. She’s short and little but feisty indeed! And while she has a definite will of her own, she is sweet and has a great sense of humor.

Jack however, has no sense of humor and has threatened not only Harriet, but Flopsy as well and almost got hit upside the head one day for doing so. By Harriet. Jack doesn’t like being there and it’s quite obvious by the way his arms are always crossed as he sits in the recliner all day long. One day I asked him why he never danced. He said he didn’t like to dance and he never went to any of his proms, either. I asked him why he never went to any of his proms. He said because he didn’t like to dance. I asked him what his favorite part of being in the Navy was. He said going to all the different countries, of course, but the two that he really wanted to go to, he didn’t get to. Oh, he added, he also liked going to all the ports. I asked what he liked the best about all the different ports. He said it was the women. I then went on that day to see how Steven was doing!

Today I asked Jack how he was doing and he said not very well. He didn’t really look any different than the other times I’ve been there so I asked what was bothering him. He hated being there. I asked him why. “It’s a waste of a good eight hours.” I asked him where he’d rather be. “At home watching TV,” he responded. I wondered how that was different in regards to a wasted eight hours…. I then asked him how many years he had been married – 31. He said he didn’t have any kids – which he knew of. My cue to get up to visit Gina!

Rick was there today and I haven’t met him before. He slept most of the day. He was a kind, considerate older fellow. When Jean asked who he was, he told her he was her husband’s father. I think that made her more confused….

A few weeks ago someone wanted to eat lunch outside. It was a beautiful day and so we did but beforehand, Steven insisted it was a bad idea with snow on the ground. The others tried to convince Steven that there was no snow on the ground in the middle of July and 80 degree weather. Steven said if we went outside with him, he’d prove it by throwing a snowball at us. Then later he suggested that we go outside. I told him we couldn’t because he said there was snow out there and we’d freeze. He laughed and said I was crazy.

I haven’t seen Lulu for a few weeks. She is the sweetest little lady. She used to be an art teacher. She sits and draws beautiful pictures and writes as many different words as possible out of sentences to stay as alert as she can and sharpen her mind.

And then Renee is physically in tip-top shape but her memory has faded a lot. She has beautiful hair and loves to sing and dance and loves to hear the men come in and sing, especially the ones with lower voices. When Renee hears them sing, it is like being with someone who is experiencing something new for the first time. She is so excited and thinks it is all so wonderful.

Some days I feel like life is overwhelming. Some days are hard to get through. But then I go to the Center and I realize how good life is. Good because I have so much. And one thing I have is the gift of having these dear people in my life. It makes days easier to get through and you realize – it could always be worse. But today, it isn’t.

Tuesday, August 14…

I have been smiling all day today, thinking about yesterday.

I woke up at eight. I had been up late the night before, working on a novel I am writing and revising and revising and revising and… you get the picture. I got up, showered, got dressed and my daughter drove me to church. I had been there about ten minutes, and realized suddenly that my new medication didn’t like me. Or vice versa. After making a beeline to the restroom, I finally returned to my seat, next to my daughter and listened to the others in the building sing and it was heavenly.

The guest speaker got up and delivered his message – one of hope – and then we all went out to where the skeleton of the new worship center stood, surrounded by bulldozers and dirt and rocks. But, tucked inside the walls of that new structure, were two by four studs with names written all over them of loved ones who are lost. And on one of those studs there is written the name of my son.

The pastor spoke of a little girl in the Friday night service who found the names of her parents that she had written there two years ago, when those studs lay on the ground, waiting for the day they would be used in this building. She sobbed and he asked her grandmother why she was crying. The child, now nine, didn’t know her parents, as she had been abandoned by them when she was only three.

I stood there in awe. One of the characters in my book, that I had just inserted the night before, was nine, lived with her grandmother and had been abandoned by her parents at birth, never to see them again. I felt confirmed that I was on the right track. Or is that the ‘write’ track?

Anyhow, I went home and changed and then went to a church picnic with another church family, where five kids I knew were being baptized. One little girl I mentor, two others are dear to me and another, the son of a dear friend. I watched each take a step of faith and in obedience, get dunked by the pastor. Total, nine were baptized yesterday on a beautiful Sunday afternoon in the lake. I am certain there were angels singing.

I then went home and had a nap and slept for over an hour, which is long for me, but still feeling woozy from my medication.

I fixed a quick dinner, as we were expected at my son and daughter in-law’s house for dinner. So at 7:30 we arrived, right on time and joined the rest of the family – my daughter in-law’s mother, who is a very dear friend of mine, and her father, her sister and brother in-law and my other two grown children were there, as well.

After finishing our ice cream, an announcement was made to all that I am going to be a grandma. Wait, no. They are going to be parents. Yes, that’s how it went. But all I heard was that I am going to be a grandma and I grinned from ear to ear. At least.

After visiting a while longer, I went home with my son and took a blanket from off of the chest against the wall and my daughter and I went out to the back yard, crawled up on the trampoline and watched the meteor shower. It was awesome.

There are not that many days anymore that are that full. There are not many days when I don’t hurt. There are not many days that I find out that I’m going to be a grandma. It was wonderful.

Wednesday, August 15 -

Don’t you just get tired of taking medicine? I mean, you wake up. You’re shaking. Okay, so you have a shower first and can’t shower the way you used to because your body isn’t listening to what you’re brain is telling it to do.

So you then get dressed, or attempt to. Other people we meet in the course of the day smile and say, “You look so good. You don’t even look like you have Parkinson’s.” So what is Parkinson’s supposed to look like, anyhow? The guy, who shared his story flippantly in the local newspaper, said that for him he is so out of control people think he’s trying to choke himself. I think he needs a new doctor.

I’m sorry, but Parkinson’s looks different on each person. It’s like putting the same shirt with the same print in the same size on five different people. It’s going to look different on each and every one. No one will wear it the same. And no one wears the same disease the same, either.

So I ‘look good’. That makes them feel comfortable. At the moment, there’s no shaking for them to stare and wonder all the things they wonder about. But on the inside, there’s a battle. A battle to claim my spirit, my will, my mind, my joy, my calm, my peace and on days like today, it gained ground. But on days like today, I remember that I have a God who sees the inside. The places that no one else can see. The places that don’t look or feel so good. He sees the battle and He calls for a reprieve, if only for a moment.

A reprieve from those who tease at my expense. A reprieve from stares that you ignore, knowing they stare out of ignorance, like I once did. A reprieve from the weariness, the tiredness, the pain. A reprieve from discouragement.

But, there is no reprieve from the medicine and so you take the pills. One, two, three, four, five… seventeen a day now – more if you have pain or a headache. Sometimes they make you tired and sometimes they make you sick. Sick and tired!

I wonder if I didn’t take the pills if I wouldn’t ‘look good’ but ‘feel’ better? Or maybe I’d start choking myself like the man in the newspaper.

I don’t know. What I do know is that I don’t like taking all that medicine but I do like being able to live life to the fullest and if taking those pills help, then I’ll swallow number thirteen, quit complaining, and enjoy my afternoon nap.

Friday, August 24…

The other day I had breakfast with a friend. We sat outside where sparrows hopped on nearby tables, hoping for a crumb or two. And I learned something:

Optimism says: Can you see all the colors of that little bird?

Pessimism responds: It’s on the table. Yuck.

Optimism sees: There must be eight different colors in that little bird!

Pessimism says: It’s just a sparrow.

I want to be an optimist and see all the colors in every sparrow and thank God that he took the time to do something so wonderful for me to enjoy.

And then an optimist will throw more crumbs for the other eighteen sparrows hiding in the bushes while the pessimist comments on what a mess it might be when they all take off over our heads.

Let them take off. I’ll watch them fly and be reminded that if my heavenly Father cares for these little guys, how much more He cares for me!

May you see a sparrow today and smile!

Sunday, August 25…

What do you say to someone who’s lost their mother?

Sorry?

Sorry seems so lost in the midst of the pain and the void.

Sorry seems so… empty.

Perhaps nothing is best.

Absolutely nothing.

And just hold them as they hurt.

And cry too.

Sunday, August 25, again…

I left my ‘baby’ at college.

Again.

It is bittersweet.

Again.

And the grief is going to swarm over me when I get home – again.

I just know it.

I feel like crying but there is too much going on as I try to make my way back home. Too much.

I should be home tomorrow night.

When crawl in my own bed and I put my head on my own pillow, I’m going to cry till I fall asleep.

Again.

I just know it.

Sunday, August 25, third time…

I didn’t sleep well, but we’re almost home.

Spent the night tossing and turning. Dreamt about the characters in the book I’m writing. That’s a first. Didn’t sleep well. A lot on my mind and couldn’t get comfortable.

Should be home by 10 PM, God willing.

Thursday, August 30…

It’s Thursday and it’s looking like rain. I hope so. A great reason to stay in and get things done I don’t want to do… I guess that wouldn’t make it so great! But, they need to be done. Ah well. Here’s hoping that whoever might read this has a great sunshine filled day from the inside out.