New Beginning – Writing – Again

Hi there! I’m back.

There’s a row of Poplar trees behind our house. In winter, the branches are bare, and I can see through the trees to the scrub beyond.

Today it’s spring, and the Poplars’ foliage is filling in – once again.

As leafy life returns to the trees outside my window, I am returning to my blogging.

Small pleasures

The neurologist characterized Carl’s “progress,” along his rocky Alzheimer’s road, as “medium”.

Thinking about it later, I wondered what “medium” means – really. I must ask when I can.

I’m wondering whether Carl could be on the not-so-good side of “medium”. Or maybe even a bit beyond that.

Mocha Flavored Irony

As I was getting Carl settled this morning, on the couch in the livingroom, with his breakfast Cheereos, coffee, and newspaper, I thought about the several times, in our 33 years together, when he would playfully suggest that I make his coffee – or that I get him some fresh coffee – or whatever other amusing idea popped into his head.

I always declined. Completely apart from the fact that the suggestion was playful, I was wary of getting into that sort of pattern – with coffee – or with any other routine need.

The bitter sweet, ironic agony is that’s exactly what I’m doing today.

Psychologist, Neurologist, Management, Research

It’s been a rough road, so far. I fear we’re not even close to finished with rough – and then surely there will be even worse.

It’s fairly obvious that someone dealing with cognitive issues is going to be talking to doctors – to understand what they are dealing with – to find out if there’s a way to fix the problem. Or to find out how to make the best of the situation, if it can’t be fixed.

Alone & Confused

I get this withering alone feeling. When I try to share with Carl what’s going on in our lives, and I get an empty, blank response, I find myself feeling abandoned.

At times, I feel guilty about these emotional responses. It seems like maturity and society dictate implacably that I shouldn’t be worrying about these things, much less talking about them. I certainly shouldn’t be writing about them, for all and sundry to see. Sacre bleu!

But further thinking tells me that these feelings are real and substantial. They are a dangerous part of what I’m experiencing – and of what Carl is enduring. They are a grim part of what anyone in a similar situation is feeling.

We ignore them at our peril.

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.

I see him shutting down

My friend appears to be shutting down. Maybe Carl’s tired. Maybe it’s a temporary thing. Perhaps it will get better. I hope so.

Reestablishing/reinforcing routines seems helpful

Structure and routines were a significant part of Carl’s life. A prime example was his morning routine. It evolved as our circumstances changed, but it always included making coffee, feeding the cat (or cats), taking vitamins, breakfast, reading his newspaper, and then cleaning up and moving on with his day.

Sleep study results don’t mention sleeping on back vs. side

I’ve been thinking about the sleep test results, and it occurred to me that there is important information missing.

Carl has a pretty disturbed sleep pattern

Apparently sleep deprivation can look a bit like dementia – or it can at least make things a lot worse.