Routines and Touching

Photo by Les Lawrence

Routines work. They were important to Carl in the past, and it’s possible that they are even more important to him now.

In an earlier post here (Reestablishing/reinforcing routines seems helpful), I explored my growing understanding of how Carl’s routines had suffered, and how, in this difficult time, routines seemed to help. Today I see more clearly that encouraging and focusing routines is helping.

So far, I’m only going on my gut impressions and reactions. And the medical exploration of the situation has only just started – it hasn’t yet progressed beyond an initial assessment that what appears to be happening is unusual at Carl’s age, and ordering blood tests to identify – or to rule out – underlying disease processes.

But it seems that my effort to gently press routines is having a positive effect.

With Carl’s morning routine, I press for the same steps, in the same sequence, when he makes his coffee. I sometimes get resistance – pushing back. But I try to gently insist. And I try to remember to explain – but sometimes my explanation seems to further confuse.

Persistence has always been a strong underlying character trait for me, and I think it’s yielding helpful results here.

I find similar results with our shower routine. I set the same sequence of steps – wash the body first, then shampoo, then face, then shave. It seems that Carl gets less confused than before.

And the shower routine is where another idea occurred to me. I thought that as routines and surroundings become progressively more strange and confusing, that Carl could grow to feel more isolated and alone. If I accept this idea, then it seems reasonable to see it as a process which could become more problematic.

It seemed to make sense that it could be helpful to include more physical closeness and intimacy in our lives. And the shower seemed one perfect opportunity to do this.

Now I make it a point for the two of to hug for a while – head to head, heart to heart, and toe to toe – after we’ve rinsed and turned the water off. And sometimes earlier in our shower, soap makes our hug silky – and even closer.

I try to remind myself to include touching and hugging at other times – and in other places.

I understand that Carl needs to feel that he’s not alone. He needs to sense that someone will be with him, and take care of him, always.

As I type these words, it only just now occurred to me – this is exactly what Carl did for his sister. The very same thing.

It was in ‘97 – his sister was dying of adrenal cancer.

Carl and I had just relocated from Columbus, Ohio to Wilmington, Delaware – a job related move. Shortly after we got settled, Carl went to Illinois to visit with his sister, for several days. Nearly immediately after Carl got back, there was a phone call saying that things did not look good, and Carl flew back.

At one point, Jane emerged from her analgesic induced stupor and asked, “Weren’t you just here?”

And Carl said, “Yes. And I’m back – for as long as you need me.”

You know, that’s what I’m doing. Whether it’s Carl’s routines – or touching – or anything and everything else – in a very real sense, I’m returning to Carl the love that he freely gave to Jane.

For as long as he needs me.

And remember the truth that once was spoken

to love another person is to see the face of God

Les Misérables