One More Bird

 Three and a half weeks ago my friend went for a big walk around his local area to the park. When I arrived at his home after work I made him dinner and settled in for a chat. He started talking about the  dead bird he'd found and was wondering where he put it. I looked around the house and then decided he must have been remembering one of the previously deceased birds that I had said I would take to the taxidermist.... 

The next morning as I walked through his gate I looked at the small barren tree ahead of me and there carefully placed across some of the smaller branches was a very deceased green parrot. It had rained heavily overnight and it was saturated. I quickly walked back to my car and grabbed a paper bag and some tissues and collected it. It went back in my car to put in a bin on the way to work.

They say things come in threes and we now had a trilogy of deceased birds. The circle was complete and ending of sorts. But now I see it as a sign from the universe that things were about to change.

Less than a week later he was in an ambulance on the way to the hospital. Something had made him very ill. He was taken to the local hospital and then transferred to the next larger regional hospital over 100kms away. They couldn't find anything structurally wrong, it may have been a virus, but it was the trigger that decided that he could no longer live independently. After 9 days he was transferred to the hospital in the next town closer to home. And there he will stay until an aged care bed becomes available.

I'd been holding my breath for the months leading up to this point. His wandering had increased as had the sundowning and we'd had some very interesting moments that tested me. I knew it was getting increasingly unsafe for him to be at home. Fortunately on the day he became unwell he was at the day respite centre and they looked after him until I got there. Had this happened at home after I had already left for the evening it could have been awful. He wouldn't have died but he would have been at the risk of dehydration and would not have called me.

As difficult as the last two and a half weeks have been I see the events that have transpired as a blessing in disguise. My prayers have been answered, I'd been concerned about how he'd react when a room came up in aged care, how would I get him in there. But now being in hospital creates a stepping stone of sorts, it will be a gentler transition. And he's safe and well looked after and I don't have the same level of worry that I did. I'm much more relaxed and now when I go to see him I spending quality time with him. even at the stage he is at I still enjoy his company. It's nice just to be with my friend.

Caring takes a lot out of you and it completely changes the dynamic of the relationship. I'd been searching for ways to find the space where I could put down the carer role and simply be his friend. I found that in moments when we were at my house drinking cuppas together. 

I still need to be both his primary carer and advocate but there is now more time to hold his hand and simply be his friend. Despite the age gap our friendship of over 30 years has developed a very deep bond between the two of us. We are each others soul mate with out the romantic ties. And it's lovely to be able to sit and enjoy just being with him. 

busy

Sorry, it's been a while since I last wrote. It's been kind of busy here..... The days are all rolling into each other. My friends condition is slowly progressing and all my time and effort is directed into keeping him healthy, happy and safe. We made it through spring but it was nearly the end of my sanity, the layer of protection of inclement weather keeping him home was lifted and he became very mobile. When the sun is out he likes to walk. 

Walking is fine when his favourite cafe on the main street of our town is open. It's fine when the town is not over run with tourists during school holidays and there's not an event in that area. But when summer hit we we're barrelling towards moments where I would want to hold my breath.

But it was all ok, initially there was a lot of walking but as the days got warmer he began to stick closer to home. His confusion increased and I'm left wondering if this is what kept him home or if he unconsciously realised it was too hot to walk his precious canine companion. So instead of being the month that I dreaded January actually offered some respite and it continued all the way through to mid April. Now we're back to milder days and he has found his feet again and I find myself praying for rain. 

For a while now I've noted  that there is a time limit to the amount of time he can tolerate being out in the world. It's about 2 hours after that as his brain tires, he gets cranky and confused. He doesn't process the world as he used to and remembering faces and how he knows people as well as making sense of the world around him is tiring. I liken it to starting a new job with so many new things to learn it's tiring even if you are in the same field as before. Remembering names, places procedures can leave you brain tired and ready for bed as soon as your dinner plate hits the sink. 

With the increase in care required it's left little time for me. I've taken a back seat in my own life. I long for a day to myself, a day where I don't have to leave the house. But on the flip side of that it will mean that I've put someone else in the drivers seat and that will be a shift to residential care for my friend. 

The wheels are already in motion for this move, we're slowly edging to the point where staying at home will no longer be safe for my friend.....

Photo by Jeremy Thomas on Unsplash

Another Day, Another Bird

 

It happened again, I thought I'd passed the test the first time, but it appears that was just a warm up.  Remember a few months ago the episode with the dead pigeon, well yesterday it was a beautiful Western Rosella.

I called in to check on my friend on the way home from work. As I entered his house I asked him how he was. His reply was "I'm both happy and sad" and with that he walked me to the kitchen and drew my attention to the very deceased Rosella resting in an empty plastic food tray on the sink. We talked about how pretty it was and he mentioned that he thought that a hawk may have knocked it out of the sky. 

So I suggested that we bury it to which he responded that he'd like to get it stuffed. "It's a good specimen and you don't see many of these anymore" I said I'd take it to someone and that we should put it in a paper bag and I'd find someone who could stuff it and drop it off to them. So the bird along with the tray it was resting in was carefully lowered into a paper bag and placed in the boot of my car. 

He thanked me for being so gracious and helpful! I suggested that we go to his favourite cafe for a coffee. By the time I took him home the memory of the bird was gone. 

Given the state of the bird and the lack of taxidermists nearby on the way back to my house I detoured past a bin at a local dog park, which I knew would be emptied first thing in the morning. As I walked towards the bin, I thanked the bird for its beauty and apologised for it's method of disposal. 

I wonder how many more deceased birds he'll find. But as long as he still sees the beauty in them and has the capacity to care enough to take them home, I'll keep dealing with them.

Lib xxx

Photo Credit:  https://rewildperth.com.au/resource/western-rosella/

Learning to Fly

 Bob's been learning to fly, he's gradually spending more time out of his cage in the evening. Once I'm home he gets quite bossy, climbing around the door of his cage looking for the the way out. When I open the door he climbs on top and around the outside of the cage and when he's got his bearings he takes flight. His first couple of laps of the living room were a bit hair raising but he's got used to his wings now and can navigate shorter distances and land decisively.

It was a proud mum moment 2 nights ago when he flapped his wings and flew a short distance from the top of the cage to my shoulder. I'm now one of his favourite places to land. I'd always hoped that I would be able to let him have his wings. Now 2.5 months into our journey together I'm happy to report that I haven't had to clip his wings and that all they've done since his been with me is grow.

Tonight he's spent a few hours out of his cage, it at times has been challenging to type as he keeps walking around my laptop. For a moment it reminded me of all the times that Charlie would rest her chin on the keyboard as if to say " enough mum, I want your attention" Looks like furry or feathered, animals have a similar reaction to laptops and smart phones. 

Lib xx

The Era of Walking and Shifting Time

 My friend has gotten a lot more active of late. We live in a regional town and his house is about 20 mins walk from the main street and his favourite cafe. We now have a GPS watch which is my back up for when his phone goes flat or he forgets to put his phone in his pocket. 

His favourite Cafe is owned by an Italian family and in the evenings it is an Italian Restaurant. They love him and are so kind to him when he's there which is why he keeps going back, sometimes 3 times in one day. His short-term memory is poor and he'll often forget that he was there an hour earlier. But the beauty of a small town is that he is for the most part in a protective bubble and 5 days a week I'm never too far away. 

There's also another attraction to this business, one of his current stories is that I own the cafe and he's coming to see me. In reality I work at a resort 1 kilometre from the cafe but no amount of reminding him where I work has stuck.

Being active and walking is fabulous for his brain and his mental health. But I will admit when the increased activity first started a couple of months ago it stressed me out. I'm learning to loosen the reigns and let things flow. I'm never far away if he gets a bit lost and I keep an eye on where he is via his phone and the watch. I know the trigger points of where he starts to get lost, and I phone him as soon as I realise he's at that point. 

One day when the era of walking kicked off, I was half an hour away and noticed he'd walked into town, I called him and he'd said he was going home. I checked in a few times and after noticing he'd taken a wrong turn out of the dog park, on the way home, I proceeded to spend 20 mins on the phone with him, talking him home. 

We're working on keeping him independent for as long as we can and as long as he doesn't go looking for me in the middle of the night, we're ok.

Which leads me to time, he has no concept of it. This evening after I left work, I picked him up from one of his walks. I had some jobs to do at his house and decided to stay until it got dark as there was less chance of him going for his 3rd walk of the day if the sun was down. 

I looked out the window and commented that the sun was going down, his response was " it’s a bit unnatural, isn’t it?" I questioned what he meant, and he asked me what the time was "it's evening 5.30pm. His response " oh I thought it was mid-morning" 

20 mins later he said "I might go for a walk" I replied "no it's getting late" he responded " it's only morning isn't it? " I responded to him and said he was shifting time!

Needless to say I held my breath as I left and I've been checking that he's phone and watch are both saying he's home ever since.

Winter is finally descending on us, and his wings will be clipped for a while. But that then creates the challenge of how to keep his brain active and stop him going stir crazy through the winter months. I have some plans in place and we'll pivot as we need to.

Lib x

Photo by Jérémie Crausaz on Unsplash

Bob

 

This is Bob, well that's his working title that kind of stuck! I had planned on maybe giving him another name like Ziggy or Claude, but Bob just kind of seemed to fit his personality. We're about 8 weeks into our adventure together. He's hand trained and he's been slowly getting used to me. 

I have thought about getting another dog, but I've been indecisive about what breed and then there's an inner resistance that tells me I'm just not ready. Saying goodbye to Charlie was massive and I really don't know at what point I'll be ready for a new fur child. I guess it will all happen when it's supposed to, so for now it's just me, Bob and 5 goldfish. 

Lib xxx

Self- Doubt

I have something that I could be doing that would solve a lot of financial issues and be potentially life changing. But I find myself sitting in self-doubt, not wanting to move forward incase I let someone down. 

The evidence to the contrary however is constantly building and it's very evident that where I fail is in not giving myself enough credit. If I step back and view my current reality with a wider lense it's pretty clear that I can do hard things, I have the ability to be creative and pivot at a moment's notice. Being a dementia carer is honing those skills. It's just that I automatically apply those skills in my role as a carer for my friend, so rather than standing out to me I just see it as the norm. 

It reminds me of job interviews when they ask you how you would handle a certain situation and your mind goes blank. Because so much of what we do is day to day and is literally done on auto pilot. There is no narrator of your actions, they just are.

The answer to fear is being brave and as I've said in an earlier post because we don't analyze our actions on a daily basis few of us realize how brave we actually are. Most of us tackle the hard stuff on auto pilot and it's not until something new that we have time to ruminate on comes along that we throw ourselves into self doubt. It's the contemplation and the stories that we tell ourselves that are what sink us into fear.

I may have mentioned it before but there is something that being a dog mum taught me. Dogs lack the part of the brain that creates story. It's how you can yell at them one moment and the next moment they're giving you kisses.  They are so in the moment that their brain says I'm being yelled at and then they move on. As humans we would attach the story about why we're being yelled at, how it makes us feel and how mean the other person is. Dogs don't do this.

In the last few months in order to get through the sadness of loss and be able to function I've used this as a technique. I can think of what happened even tell someone about it and I'm ok as long as I don't attach the story and the emotion. The only thing that cracks me when I'm doing this is when someone is being compassionate to me.

Which leads me to think that this concept could be useful for facing up to situations that provoke a fear response and hold me back. Maybe if I be 'like a dog' and drop the story I may be able to push through and maybe that thing that I need to do may actually get done.

Lib xxx

Photo by Kelli McClintock on Unsplash