So over

Well, well, so I've come here to blog.  I had to take a break from it all.  The nonsense, same ole' same ole', and, the Alzheimer's.  Sometime, it's just too much for me.

We had a very rough week last week.  Husband had hallucinations day and night.  Did I mention the anger?  He became angry with everything.  I, for once, didn't think I would make it through.  It was rough.

Sitting in the shower the other morning, he seemed to calm down while water was running on him.  I chose that time to get his clean clothes ready.  I heard a bam, ran into the bathroom and there he was, sitting sideways, falling out of the shower with his shower seat falling with him.  After helping him back up, I asked him what happened?  He spoke, in broken words, saying he didn't know what had happened, but, it was my fault because I left him alone.  Of course.

I'm so over all of this. 

Since Friday, he has gotten through this angry stage and it has been much more pleasant.  Not great, but, pleasant.

I am not in the mood for all this Thanksgiving stuff.  Thanks to Alzheimer's.  I bought a turkey.  Nothing else.  Just a turkey that is now completely thawed in my fridge.  No apples for pies, no bread for stuffing, no nothing.  When is Thanksgiving?  Oh yes, this Thursday?  Great.

I am supposed to get festive for the Holidays, remember?  Someone,  please remind me of that.

Husband is waking up.  He didn't sleep well.  Coughed all night.  It's his bath day.  Have to make sure the house is warm for him.  Lay his clothes out, before he gets in the shower.

Yes, I am so over it all.

Marching on

I can't believe it's been almost a week since I last posted.  Time seems to be getting the best of me lately.

Husband has slipped, but, not too bad.  He seems to be OK with all that he has lost.  It's probably because he doesn't even realize what's going on anymore.

His sleeping has been good, with few interruptions during the night.  Hallucinations are a daily thing now.  I have learned to just go with it.  They still bother me, but, for him, I can't show it.

I bought a scale a few weeks ago and now weigh husband once a week.  He is losing weight.  When I weighed him last Sunday, he was down another 1/2 pound.  It's hard for me to not weigh him more frequently, but, Dr said only once a week.  We go back to the Dr on the 2nd of December for a weight check.

The weather here is turning pretty cold.  I've had more fires in the fireplace, sometimes during the day.  I am glad we moved here.  There, I said it.  Even though the real reason was for husband, it's so much better here.

I am still playing with the idea of completing the book I began over a year ago.  Blogging, for me, used to help me, mentally.  While it still does, with husband having mere months left here on earth, I come here and find myself repeating the same thing.

Being that this will be husband's last Christmas, it will be a Christmas to remember.  I plan on decorating, getting a tree, playing Christmas music, lights up around my patio, the works.  I am planning on taking pictures daily once the decorations are up.  Of husband.  I want to look back on this special time and think I did the right thing.  For husband.

While there will be overwhelming sadness, he will not know it. 

Thanks to Alzheimer's, I've become a great actress.

Packs of dogs in the city?

Not too much happening here.   It's another "holding pattern".  Waiting, just waiting.

Husband seems to hallucinate a lot lately.  It comes and goes.  Take for instance, the other day.

I had to run an errand and decided to take husband and the dog with me.  Husband doesn't get out much, it's just too hard on him and me.  But, this day, I did.

I left husband and the dog in the car, was gone for about 10 minutes.  When I got back to the car and opened the door, husband was waving his hands and said, "Be careful, don't let the dog out.  I just saw a pack of dogs run by and I don't want them getting our dog."

There were no pack of dogs.  We were in the middle of the city.

He doesn't like to go in the bathroom when he first wakes up.  Says he doesn't like to pee in front of other people.  Argued with me yesterday, after telling him where to go to the bathroom.  He told me, when I pointed out where the toilet was and how to lift up the seat, that that was disgusting and how dare I even suggest him using that thing to pee in.

Was twisting the door knob on the hall closet the other night.  I asked him what he was doing.  Said he was trying to turn on the bathroom light.

I'll be in the living room with the dog on my lap.  He will stroke the bed and talk to the dog in the bedroom.  Almost every night he thinks the dog is with him, when, in fact, he is on my lap in a different room.

I could go on and on.

I've noticed the tremors are more present now.  Legs and arms.  When I see it, I turn my head.  I don't like looking at him when he has these tremors.  It's not pretty.

Time to wake husband up.  It's bath and shave day.  When I do this, I never know what to expect.  We can go anywhere. 

My life.  I'm still here, still trying to find something to laugh about each day.  Most days, I can.  Other days?  Uh, not so much.

A very bad taste in my mouth

Here we go again.  Sorry for the lack in posts.  It's just that lately, days seem to melt into one another, and, I find myself coming here to post, with the same ole' subject.  Alzheimer's. 

Leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Husband is holding steady.  No drastic decline.  He wakes up in a confused state.  Does not know where he is, who he is, or, who I am.  He will go to the bathroom by himself, but, I have to tell him where the toilet is.  He can no longer distinguish the difference between the sink, bathtub or toilet. 

I look in on him and he is sitting there with a look that says, "Where am I?"  Once he is done, I clean him up, (if it's not bath day) and guide him back to the bedroom where I dress him.

He will come to the dining room table and I have to tell him to sit and I fix his breakfast.  While he eats, he is still in a stupor.  He does not speak, at all.  He eats, making a mess.  He takes his meds, and, I guide him to this chair in the living room where he will stare at everything, not knowing what anything is.  I turn on the TV, making a distraction for him.

He will doze off and on the entire morning.   I do breakfast dishes, make beds, straighten up around the apartment.  Take the trash out, if needed, take the dog for his potty runs, all the while, checking on husband.

By noon or so, he seems to be more aware of his surroundings and will attempt to make conversation with me.  Trying to remember words is hard on him and the spinning of his hands will begin. 

Dinnertime rolls around and he eats a good dinner.  He will go to his bed after dinner.  I turn on his lamp and his TV.  By 7 PM, it's time for more meds.  He takes that and I get him undressed and under the covers.  By 8-9 PM, he is very sleepy and I have to get the last pill to him.  Once he takes that pill (I have to give one pill and wait at least an hour for the other pill) he is usually out within 15 minutes.

It is then that I come to my chair and am left alone with my thoughts.  I run through the day.  Was it a good day?  Did he eat well?   Did I do well with him today?   I also take stock in what he has lost, if anything.  I make a mental note of his tremors.  Did they appear to be more or less today?  How many times did he wet his pants?   My, he looks thin today.  Did he lose more weight today?

Just another day in my life.  A day with Alzheimer's.  A day where nothing really happens, but, everything changes. 

Ah, yes, no wonder Alzheimer's leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

A certain smile

Happy Halloween.  The apartment complex sent a monthly newsletter here last week.  In the letter, they provided a sign you can put on your door knob if you want trick or treaters to come to your door.  If you don't put this sign on your door knob, you won't have any trick or treaters knocking on your door.  I thought this a great idea, because, I did not plan on buying any candy.

In taking the dog out for his morning walk, I noticed residents have already placed this sign on their doors.  As I walked back to my door,  it looked so bare and cold.  The door with no sign hanging from the door knob screamed what my life is like now.  Almost as if mocking me. 

I have this sadness that won't go away.  Such a heaviness in my chest this whole week.   And now, my barren, cold door knob, with no sign hanging from it has only made it worse.

Husband is doing poorly.  His awareness is fading.  He is sitting in his chair now, head dropped, occasionally talking to someone, using his hands as he attempts to speak.  He has been hallucinating all morning. 

I am thinking of putting up a tree shortly after Thanksgiving.  Just in case.  I will have to get an artificial tree.  I didn't want an artificial one, I wanted a real tree.  But, now, with circumstances being what they are, I want him to see a Christmas tree.  Real or not, I feel this need to get one up, fast.

While I am praying his journey is almost over,  I don't want it to be in December.  Please, not December.  January.  Yes, January would be better.  Please God.

His voice is also fading.  You can barely hear him.  I have to really strain my ears to hear him.  He doesn't know words, spins his hands while trying to remember a simple word.

The trees are mostly bare now.  The leaves lay on the ground, once green and full of beauty.  They are now brown and crisp.  Crackling under my feet as I walk the dog. 

I feel different now.  Lonely in a way.  Sad.  Scared at what life will be like once husband is gone.  Will I be OK?  I know I will be a different person, for sure.  Not the carefree person I used to be.

I look at life differently now.  I look at death differently as well.  When husband is hallucinating, he looks up and smiles the sweetest smile.  I feel in my heart, he sees God, or, Angels, speaking to him.  It's that smile, so pure and simple.  It's hard to describe.

He knows he's leaving.  And, he's OK with it.  Because the smile tells me so.

Cauliflower

What is there to say now?  This new Dr we saw today was good.  Really good.  I am concerned with the weight loss.  Dr said to watch it closely, get him to drink some Ensure.  Might help but might not she said.

I had taken husband's June MRI.  She said she didn't need it.  After she was done, she leaves the room and I am feeling very uncomfortable about this MRI I have on disc.  I felt like she needed it to see where we are at. 

The nurse comes in and I tell her how uncomfortable I am in the Dr not even interested in the MRI disc.  The nurse says she will scan it into their computer and goes and gets the Dr.  Dr K comes in and asks me to step out with her.

We go to the computer.  She shows me the MRI results and then says, "Mrs Lucero, the reason I don't need this is because it is obvious your husband is grave.  His illness is beyond help anymore.  There is nothing anyone can do.  You are doing a wonderful job in caring for him.  I am so sorry you didn't understand.  It's not that I don't care, but, look at his brain.  It looks like cauliflower now."

I started to cry and she puts her arm around me and says, "Oh, I am so sorry.  I feel so bad for you right now.  I know, I wish I could give him a magic pill to help, but, there is nothing I can do.  I am also sorry there are other Dr's out there who will prescribe a pill, just to keep you quiet.  I am not that kind of Dr.  Take your husband home, care for him the way you are doing now, make his last days, however long that is, filled with love."

She said she will follow him closely.  We go in 1 month to check his weight, and she will see him every 3 months until the end.  She also has put in a referral for a Primary Care Physician, who will then get us Home Health Care, or, Hospice.

So that's it, in a nutshell.  I don't know what I expected, but, am glad I got him in to this Dr.  She shoots straight from the hip and doesn't mess around.   I feel as if I made the right choice in getting a new Dr here, in the Springs.

All I could think of when driving home was what she said about his brain.  "Look at his brain, it looks like cauliflower."

I would look over at husband sitting beside me in the car.  His head bobbed, he would look out the window, no recognition of nothing.  Nothing.

I will never eat Cauliflower again.

Ever.

Who was that?

Boy, I have really been slacking in posts.  So much has changed in just a month, it's hard to keep up.  I guess Dr F was right when he said the last 6 months would be a rapid decline.  He knows his stuff.

In June, Dr A told me 6 to 9 months.  In September, Dr F said 6 months, give or take.  Now, on Monday, this new Dr K will give me a timeline.  I wonder what it will be? 

Husband has been slipping in an alarming manner.  The other night, he came out of the bedroom and stood, holding on to the walls, just staring ahead.  Finally, I asked him if something was the matter.  He looked over to where my voice was coming from and said, "Where am I going?"

His voice has become so soft, I can't hear him at times.  Dr F told me that is one of the signs of the beginning of the end.  How strange.  His voice is like a whisper, mumbled and ever so soft.  It reminds me of someone who is so exhausted, they talk softly right before they fall to sleep.

I am finding myself repeating things to him all day now.  I can say something to him and in the next moment he will ask me again.  His memory is completely destroyed now.

Eating dinner the other night, he began to tell me about his neighbor he had as a little boy.  In that new soft voice, he told me how mean this neighbor was and how he didn't like kids playing in front of his home.  Of course, I had heard the story before, but, I was amazed at how he could remember this neighbor, but, can't remember anything else.

At the end of this conversation, he hung his head and said, "And then, he died."

I also think it's time to put him in the wheelchair, doing away with the walker.  His legs have become so stiff and his brain can't tell him to move the legs, making it scary for me.  It will be hard, I know, but, being that I have to make these decisions, I feel comfortable about the chair.

Speaking of decisions, I often wonder who signed me up for this?  I sure didn't. 

I have been thinking of finding a new Church.  I miss going.  The other day, standing on my patio, a young man came from nowhere, walked by, hesitated, then turned towards me and said, "Would you like to come to Church?"

Stunned, I said, "Yes."  He then handed me a brochure of a Church and walked away.  I glanced at the brochure and looked up to thank him.  He was nowhere in sight.  Now, it was a matter of seconds that he had just handed me this brochure, there was no way he could've walked that fast to the parking lot.  He was gone.

As I walked in the house, I got this warm, fuzzy feeling.  It felt like God had put His arms around me, comforting me.

God did this.  He sent a messenger to me.  That "person" who handed me this brochure?  He wasn't of this world.

Since then, every time I walk by that brochure, on my fridge with a magnet, I feel the love of God.

And yes, I plan on attending next week.