Showing posts with label demenita. Show all posts
Showing posts with label demenita. Show all posts

Monday, 8 September 2025

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. 




Sunday, 3 March 2024

Hesitant

 


Last night we sat and watched the Magpies in my friends backyard. They've gotten to know us and come right up to our feet to feed on the seed we scatter for them. Magpies have good facial recall and long memories, which is a contrast to my friends slowly declining memory. I find it interesting that the magpies presence is increasing during this time.

My friends facial recognition still appears to be ok with people he sees frequently. He's starting to recognise his friends from the day centre when he's with them. If I talk about them he has no clue who they are but as soon as he sees them he knows the face, he may not remember exactly who they are but the face is familiar. 

A week ago we had our quarterly appointment with the Geriatrician. After many questions regarding my friends progress she turned to me and said that I needed to take a break from my carer responsibilities. She told me that the #1 reason that people end up in aged care is carer burnout. She turned to my friend and said that sometime in the near future I needed to have a holiday away from him. He agreed but I don't believe he fully understands what it means.

I'm hesitant to take a break, the thought terrifies me. At this moment in time it's actually impossible, there's no one to step in. Maybe later his family will be able to help. But always in the back of my mind is the thought that if I'm not present everyday he may forget me. It's probably irrational, we've been a constant in each others lives for 29 years, but the fear is still there. 

There's also another side to this, I don't want to miss a second of all the happy moments. We have a lot of laughs together, his dry sense of humour matches mine. I want to stay present because I know all to well one day I'll be left with only my memories. The last few years I spent with my Dad and Charlie taught me that I have to savour the moments. 

I understand what she is saying about carer burnout, I've been at the brink a few times in the last 6 months, but with no other options I call on my inner resilience and keep putting one foot in front of the other. I have no choice but to be a superwoman and I want to be superwoman, I don't want to miss a day. 

I'll think about what she said, but for now I remain hesitant. 

Lib x


Monday, 19 February 2024

Wiping the Slate

 Originally this post was the introduction to 'Apron Strings" on Feb 1st. But I've since realised it is very much a separate post and requires it's own space.

Inevitably at some point dementia wipes the slate clean, sometimes for a few minutes other times longer.  All of this is the precursor to the dreaded day that memory is  gone for good.

I'd experienced it once before a few months ago when I called in at lunchtime to tell my friend the cleaner was coming. He was terse with me, like I stood before him accused of a wrong doing that neither of us knew was about. I asked him what I'd done wrong and he said he couldn't say anything until the lawyers got there! I replied that I was just there to tell him about the cleaner and left. I left in a flood of tears that he never saw, I was worried that he'd forgotten our friendship and was now seeing me as the  devil! It was a shock and a heartbreak combined. The grief of losing my Dad and my dog had left me less resilient. 

But I'd forgotten that it passes, I just had to wait for the switch to flip and all would be ok. And it was, I found that out quickly when the cleaner couldn’t work out how to get in and he wasn't answering her. She made me go back there, because she was from a care agency legally, she couldn’t  leave until she knew he was safe. I gingerly opened the back door and called out a few times, and he appeared and spoke to me like there was never an issue. I left and cried in relief. 

Today I had a phone call where it was clear that the slate hadn't just been wiped, it was momentarily obliterated. I'd been there earlier in the day, I'd taken him a coffee and we'd sat outside talking for a while. A few hours later I get a call all very formal announcing his full name and that he'd been in the house, which he's told is his, for months and no one had been near him. He has no money and he's not even receiving any bills. I said I'd been with him earlier, he replied "well I didn't see you". I said I brought you a cup of coffee. He moved on to say he's not having a go at me. I was in the next town, so I tell him I'm heading home soon and I'll come past and see him and we'll talk. He's happy with that.

Less than 2 minutes later the phone rings again and we have the same conversation. Except this time new information has been added to the situation he's experiencing. I tell him that I'll be there soon and will look into all of it for him. Then we chat about the birds chirping in the back ground. 

By the time I got to his house all was well again. I stayed for a while and got him dinner. He was as cheery as he was when I left him in earlier in the day. 

Moments like these are stressful, particularly when I'm a distance away. My immediate reaction is to fix it. But often with dementia you have to allow time for these moments to fix themselves.