Monthly Archives: December 2020

Up on the rooftop, ho ho ho!

Posted on by under Childlike, Cleanliness, eye of beholder, Good news, Holidays, Thankful

What to my wondering eyes did appear yesterday, but my smiling husband, a grin ear to ear. Like a child on Christmas morning, Peter was obviously tickled as Santa climbed up and down a red ladder, accompanied by carols. When Leslie bought the toy she knew Peter wouldn’t be able figure it out himself, but she also knew it would make him laugh. Activities director Hailey set it up for him and arranged our FaceTime call as she does every week. When I answered, he was grinning delightedly at the clever Santa Claus.

What a thrill to be able to post good news today, a dramatic change from my previous post which oozed gloom to rival Charles Dickens’ stories. Peter eyes twinkled and he looked more lively. A right jolly old elf. He’d had a shower, his hair was clean if badly in need of cutting, his nails had been trimmed, he wore clean clothes and his new slippers and socks. Joy to my world!

Cheers to whoever prodded my husband to bathe and endure a manicure. He’s a real bear when he doesn’t want to do something.

Unlike the previous few weeks’ calls, Peter was just more present. He was able to converse a bit and he laughed at my pathetic attempts to sing “Jingle Bells.” He even appreciated my sparkly green Christmas ball earrings and was surprised I had two of them. “I do have two ears you know,” I said.

When he asked what I’d been doing, I said I’d baked my annual whiskey cakes. “Remember them? You and your dad loved them,” I said. “Both of you complained I didn’t use enough whiskey.” He shook his head. “No? Oh well, I won’t bring you any then,” I said.

I switched topics and named some old pals from his days at “Generous” Electric. “Do you remember Gary…Dick…Jerry…Vince, Joe or Bill…?” I asked. He nodded. “Of course I remember them!”

“Hmpfh, you remember your old buddies but you don’t remember my whiskey cake! That’s it, I’ll eat it all myself,” I teased.

Quick as a wink, he came back. “I remember now. Never enough whiskey in it though.” His sly smile said he knew I would never eat it all and that he would get his share.

If I were to talk to him today a different scene might be in play. But I like to think that a combination of the clever Santa, a spruce-up and, yes, perhaps the change of meds, all played a part in Peter’s better yesterday. I know, it made my day!

Photos: For all his wild gray hair and beard, Peter looks like a child on Christmas day.

Laughs aren’t always funny.

Posted on by under Childlike, Dementia, Laughs lost, Laughter, tears, Problems, Remember, tears

Writing in the time of Covid has been tough. My mind is as scattered as the wintery mix that bounced on my windowsill all day. It has been so long since I posted here that I struggled to remember how to sign on!

The past several weeks were fraught. Calls from the facility where Peter lives rattled me. He’s become disruptive, combative, with staff and residents alike. This is not the man I married 39 years ago. No, this is a man who has lost his links to the outside world as have so many others imprisoned by both the Covid pandemic and the effects of dementia.

Prior to the March shutdown, Peter’s companion Mark took him for outings several times a week. I visited at least four afternoons. We’d play dominoes, watch sports on t.v. or walk outside. Sometimes we’d go for a drive or an easy hike and we celebrated holidays and birthdays with Leslie and Martin. Not so this year.

Is it any wonder Peter has not been the eccentric funnyman he was when he was admitted more than two years ago? He’s fed up with being locked in. Bored. All along I’ve told him about the pandemic and tried to explain why he’s even more confined than previously. He doesn’t remember what I’ve said. Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? Remembering.

I had to laugh when I learned my husband had sneaked into a resident’s room and tried to put her clothes on. I laughed when I heard that he removed the laces from his shoes and tied them around his ankles for some reason. Not so funny is that he’d taken he laces out of other residents’ shoes. And not funny at all are other offenses that are totally out of character for my toe-the-line, proper English husband.

Combativeness is also unlike him. I’ve read that some dementia patients possess shocking physical strength. Peter is one of them. As a result he’s been prescribed a medication to calm him. It makes him so dopey—stoned, my daughters say—that he can barely talk. I realize his behavior could harm someone, but I wrote a letter to suggest alternative ways to redirect him. A cup of tea, favorite jazz on his “radio,” English football on his t.v.

Now it could be that during these nearly ten months since March that Peter has moved further along the dementia continuum, or it could be that the long isolation has had the debilitating effect that so many elderly residents suffer.

At last though, vaccinations for nursing home residents will begin soon in our area. With that, face-to-face visits might be permitted before too much longer. Maybe the “old” Peter will materialize, at least for a while, and we’ll be able to share genuine laughs once more.

Header photo: During a recent FaceTime chat, Peter wore a hat that he probably “borrowed” from someone’s closet.