I can't go back to sleep.
It's four am, and Dennis is chasing prairie dogs in his sleep. I don't know why those pesky prairie dogs keep nipping at his ankles, but they do. At least 3 nights a week he is fighting them off, swearing at them and they just keep biting away. It's quite a noisy dream and his legs and arms flail around in stiff and abrupt motions. It's not easy to stay asleep, or fall back to sleep when he is dreaming out loud.
One of his doctor's suggested that he take an extra sleeping pill midway through the night. In theory, it should work. In actuality, this would mean waking him up, propping him up, giving him the pill, unpropping him and readjusting him to a sleeping position. This would be a 30 minute process, and I would be so wide awake by the end, I still wouldn't be able to get back to sleep.
I tried putting my arm around him, but he is wearing his dinner from the night before, and his chest is sticky. I talked to him and let him know that I chased every last one of those critters away, but he must not have believed me, because he just kept flailing and yelping.
Finally, I got out of bed, cleaned up the kitchen and sat down to write this blog. Naturally, now that it almost time for the alarm to go off, he has quieted down. Oh, well, yesterday his PCA wasn't able to come and we slept in until almost 11:00. I can't complain about a lack of sleep.
I would, however, like to figure out why he dreams of prairie dogs. Is it just me, or is this an odd animal to have in a dream?
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Another Poop Story
This is another issue of poop problems, so quit reading now if you have no interest or a sensitive constitution. I will not be insulted, I promise.
A while back I mentioned that Dennis had started using Activia, the yogurt enhanced with some fancy term that basically means a gentle diuretic. In plain old English, a poop mover. He ate it for the recommended 14 days, and Voila!, he pooped. We were sold on this stuff.
Unfortunately, a few days after the 14 day challenge, he started up with the diarrhea. By now you all know, that nothing is normal with Dennis. Constipation is not normal and diarrhea is not normal. When he is sitting on the toilet, he somehow manages to get poop all over, inside and out and even on the shower curtain. The floor, of course, needs a good scrubbing each time, too. Then there are those times, when he is not sitting on the toilet, but he is, unbeknownst to himself, still pooping. Right now he is wearing double diapers to prevent massive leakage, but yesterday he still managed to end up with a pair of shorts that we both agreed would best be tossed in the garbage.
One of my favorite times, though, is the poopy butt shower. It seems the scrubbing of the poopy butt, encourages the butt to let loose. I have barely missed being pooped on more than I care to mention, while giving him a butt side up shower.
Like the urination issues of yore, the daily changing of sheets, and the hourly changes of diapers, we are becoming used to dealing with this with humor. And I suppose, love. If these problems are a test of our love and our ability to laugh, then we are both passing with flying colors. But hey, already. Enough testing. We do not plan to fail.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
A while back I mentioned that Dennis had started using Activia, the yogurt enhanced with some fancy term that basically means a gentle diuretic. In plain old English, a poop mover. He ate it for the recommended 14 days, and Voila!, he pooped. We were sold on this stuff.
Unfortunately, a few days after the 14 day challenge, he started up with the diarrhea. By now you all know, that nothing is normal with Dennis. Constipation is not normal and diarrhea is not normal. When he is sitting on the toilet, he somehow manages to get poop all over, inside and out and even on the shower curtain. The floor, of course, needs a good scrubbing each time, too. Then there are those times, when he is not sitting on the toilet, but he is, unbeknownst to himself, still pooping. Right now he is wearing double diapers to prevent massive leakage, but yesterday he still managed to end up with a pair of shorts that we both agreed would best be tossed in the garbage.
One of my favorite times, though, is the poopy butt shower. It seems the scrubbing of the poopy butt, encourages the butt to let loose. I have barely missed being pooped on more than I care to mention, while giving him a butt side up shower.
Like the urination issues of yore, the daily changing of sheets, and the hourly changes of diapers, we are becoming used to dealing with this with humor. And I suppose, love. If these problems are a test of our love and our ability to laugh, then we are both passing with flying colors. But hey, already. Enough testing. We do not plan to fail.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Virtual Friends
Ten years ago, or so, I began to keep up with my relationships by email. When I would vacation, I would send home emails about my adventures. I remember first starting this when I went to Guatemala to study Spanish.
Eight years ago, I met Dennis online. Well, actually, we were introduced online and met in person a few days later. When we met, we knew that both of us were honest about who we were online, and that we had so very much in common.
Nowadays, I have several virtual friends and acquaintances.
There is Iva, in Sweden, who reads my blog frequently and comments often. Iva has a heart of gold and always is here to give me as virtual hug.
A woman, whose mother has MSA/SDS, or something Parkisonian, that was so thoughtful to send me an ecard when dad died this month. We have corresponded a bit, and I find some relief in her emails, as she finds some relief in my blog.
Lola, and Poppie, in London, who we have been lucky enough to meet. We both love them to bits. We would never have met them had it not been for this darn thing called Internet.
I keep up with my family and friends via email, or texting, even more often than telephone. I doubt if my nephew has ever handwritten a letter and sent it via postal mail, but that doesn't mean we aren't in touch. There are those (over the age of 100) that would argue, that virtual friendships are not as deep as real friendships. I, being my obstinate, stubborn self would argue, that some of my very deepest relationships are virtual.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Eight years ago, I met Dennis online. Well, actually, we were introduced online and met in person a few days later. When we met, we knew that both of us were honest about who we were online, and that we had so very much in common.
Nowadays, I have several virtual friends and acquaintances.
There is Iva, in Sweden, who reads my blog frequently and comments often. Iva has a heart of gold and always is here to give me as virtual hug.
A woman, whose mother has MSA/SDS, or something Parkisonian, that was so thoughtful to send me an ecard when dad died this month. We have corresponded a bit, and I find some relief in her emails, as she finds some relief in my blog.
Lola, and Poppie, in London, who we have been lucky enough to meet. We both love them to bits. We would never have met them had it not been for this darn thing called Internet.
I keep up with my family and friends via email, or texting, even more often than telephone. I doubt if my nephew has ever handwritten a letter and sent it via postal mail, but that doesn't mean we aren't in touch. There are those (over the age of 100) that would argue, that virtual friendships are not as deep as real friendships. I, being my obstinate, stubborn self would argue, that some of my very deepest relationships are virtual.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Listening and Talking
When I arrived home today, Dennis shared the good news that he was up at 8:30 this morning. In addition to getting out of bed early, he ate a huge breakfast, did some weight lifting, walked outside for a while and was cheerful. A nice change from yesterday.
His drooling is getting beyond pesky again, though. His botox has worn off, and his nurse practitioner is reticent about receiving another injection. She is afraid that his pneumonia last month was, at least in part, exacerbated by the injections. This was disappointing news, as his speech is so difficult to understand under the best of conditions. The more saliva he produces, the more difficult his speech is to decipher. The injections were the first intervention that helped even a little bit.
What all of this means for me is, simply, we are not communicating as easily. Dennis is the talker and I am the listener. Okay, those of you that know me well, know that I love to talk, too. But, I am basically lazy, and if I am around someone who likes to talk more than me, I easily acquiesce. Dennis likes to talk more than I do, so I have become the listener. It isn't easy being a listener, however, when the talker is so difficult to understand.
We have played these roles for so long, it is difficult to change. I simply need to become the talker, once again, as Dennis takes on the role of listener. I have a feeling, deep down, that the transition will be much easier for me, than it is for Dennis.
Until tomorrow,
Ann and Dennis
His drooling is getting beyond pesky again, though. His botox has worn off, and his nurse practitioner is reticent about receiving another injection. She is afraid that his pneumonia last month was, at least in part, exacerbated by the injections. This was disappointing news, as his speech is so difficult to understand under the best of conditions. The more saliva he produces, the more difficult his speech is to decipher. The injections were the first intervention that helped even a little bit.
What all of this means for me is, simply, we are not communicating as easily. Dennis is the talker and I am the listener. Okay, those of you that know me well, know that I love to talk, too. But, I am basically lazy, and if I am around someone who likes to talk more than me, I easily acquiesce. Dennis likes to talk more than I do, so I have become the listener. It isn't easy being a listener, however, when the talker is so difficult to understand.
We have played these roles for so long, it is difficult to change. I simply need to become the talker, once again, as Dennis takes on the role of listener. I have a feeling, deep down, that the transition will be much easier for me, than it is for Dennis.
Until tomorrow,
Ann and Dennis
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Restlessness, Perhaps?
It was a crazy day at work with 12 substitutes and a whole lot of restless students. It was the second day of over 90 degree temps outside, and the barometric pressure was in the middle of a huge change.
About an hour before the end of the day, Raquel called. Dennis had refused to get out of bed all day. She had tried at 9 AM to rouse him, again at 11 AM and once more at 1 PM. He finally said he would sit up and eat ice cream before she left at 2:30.
He decided to get up and sit in his chair when I came home. He said he wasn't feeling well, but wasn't able to put his finger on what was really wrong. He was dizzy. He was tired. He was depressed. But he couldn't say any one specific thing.
I think he is feeling the same thing all the kids and teachers were feeling today. Antsy to get up and out and have fun, yet knowing it just isn't the right time, yet.
Hang in there, Dennis. I will be home to entertain you very soon. We will fly to Ireland for a couple of weeks, and practice drinking Guinness. You will rise to the occasion and have lots of fun. Just be a little patient, my dear.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
About an hour before the end of the day, Raquel called. Dennis had refused to get out of bed all day. She had tried at 9 AM to rouse him, again at 11 AM and once more at 1 PM. He finally said he would sit up and eat ice cream before she left at 2:30.
He decided to get up and sit in his chair when I came home. He said he wasn't feeling well, but wasn't able to put his finger on what was really wrong. He was dizzy. He was tired. He was depressed. But he couldn't say any one specific thing.
I think he is feeling the same thing all the kids and teachers were feeling today. Antsy to get up and out and have fun, yet knowing it just isn't the right time, yet.
Hang in there, Dennis. I will be home to entertain you very soon. We will fly to Ireland for a couple of weeks, and practice drinking Guinness. You will rise to the occasion and have lots of fun. Just be a little patient, my dear.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Night Time Sleep
I take for granted, night after night, that I can roll over, move around, and adjust my pillows at any time I want or need. I prefer not to wake up and feel the desire to move about, but when I do, I know that I am able to fulfill my middle of the night needs easily.
Dennis is not able to adjust himself, or his pillows, or his covers any longer. He is also not all that understandable in the middle of the night. So we have developed a code, of sorts, for what he needs. These code words, or sounds, keep both of us from wanting to kill each other in the middle of the night.
"Turn me." Or, "R E." takes me about three or four tries to comprehend. It takes more time than necessary in part because I am often pretending not to hear him, and in part because I am a sound sleeper. When I have figured out that he needs to turn, we then need to communicate which way he wants to move. Is his right or left hip bothering him? Towards the window or towards the bathroom?
Each move has it's own specific problems. There are the placement of the pads beneath him, which are an incredible help in moving him. Are they far enough to the right or left to pull or push? Will they still be underneath him after the move? And, if he wants to move towards the window, will there be enough room left over for me to lay in bed? Or towards the bathroom, is there enough bed left to keep him from falling out of bed?
Then the pillows become yet another issue. Each move requires the lifting of his head and neck and tucking of the pillows underneath him. Finally the covers. Covingtons we affectionately call the whole business. No covingtons, more covingtons, or "ah ing tn, please."
I really take for granted the ability to be completely comfortable all on my own. For Dennis, he needs help and lots of help. Sometimes I begrudgingly give him the help he needs, other times, I am more understanding. And then there are the nights that I just pretend that he has not woken me up from a deep sleep.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Dennis is not able to adjust himself, or his pillows, or his covers any longer. He is also not all that understandable in the middle of the night. So we have developed a code, of sorts, for what he needs. These code words, or sounds, keep both of us from wanting to kill each other in the middle of the night.
"Turn me." Or, "R E." takes me about three or four tries to comprehend. It takes more time than necessary in part because I am often pretending not to hear him, and in part because I am a sound sleeper. When I have figured out that he needs to turn, we then need to communicate which way he wants to move. Is his right or left hip bothering him? Towards the window or towards the bathroom?
Each move has it's own specific problems. There are the placement of the pads beneath him, which are an incredible help in moving him. Are they far enough to the right or left to pull or push? Will they still be underneath him after the move? And, if he wants to move towards the window, will there be enough room left over for me to lay in bed? Or towards the bathroom, is there enough bed left to keep him from falling out of bed?
Then the pillows become yet another issue. Each move requires the lifting of his head and neck and tucking of the pillows underneath him. Finally the covers. Covingtons we affectionately call the whole business. No covingtons, more covingtons, or "ah ing tn, please."
I really take for granted the ability to be completely comfortable all on my own. For Dennis, he needs help and lots of help. Sometimes I begrudgingly give him the help he needs, other times, I am more understanding. And then there are the nights that I just pretend that he has not woken me up from a deep sleep.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Monday, May 18, 2009
Diarrhea or Constipation?
Okay, it's back to the poop story again. Dennis found Activia, which seems to control his constipation. Unfortunately, it brings on massive diarrhea, and loss of bowel control. It ain't pretty.
I don't believe that by eating Activia on a daily basis, he has changed this drastically. He has gone from sitting on the toilet, grunting, for hours on end to now messing himself all day long, day after day.
I left a message on the nurse line today. This isn't normal. This does not bode well for future bathroom problems. I think I am about to learn something new - something I wish I could live without knowing.
He is not feeling good about himself. Of course he is not. But it doesn't do either of us any good to pout about what we are unable to control. Perhaps there is an easy answer to this newest of problems. Now wouldn't that be nice?
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
I don't believe that by eating Activia on a daily basis, he has changed this drastically. He has gone from sitting on the toilet, grunting, for hours on end to now messing himself all day long, day after day.
I left a message on the nurse line today. This isn't normal. This does not bode well for future bathroom problems. I think I am about to learn something new - something I wish I could live without knowing.
He is not feeling good about himself. Of course he is not. But it doesn't do either of us any good to pout about what we are unable to control. Perhaps there is an easy answer to this newest of problems. Now wouldn't that be nice?
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Super Pubic Catheter
Dennis and I had a consult with a urologist today that does prostrate surgery. Dennis has decided to have a super pubic catheter placed instead of the Foley catheter that he currently uses for his urinary issues.
For those of you that have no idea what I am talking about, a Foley catheter enters through the penis. An SP, or super pubic, bypasses the penis and inserted directly into the bladder through the pubic area. I have no idea what this will look like, but happily, only a few of us will ever have to see the whole business in it's entirety.
We are waiting, however, for the actual surgery until August. We have so much to do in regards to my mom in June and we hope to visit Ireland in July. Surgery before we leave the country, even if it is minor, seems reckless. Why test fate if you do not need to?
Dennis is looking forward to this change. He complains of discomfort constantly with his current catheter. Then again, Dennis is prone to whining, anyway. Just another one of the reasons that I love him.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
For those of you that have no idea what I am talking about, a Foley catheter enters through the penis. An SP, or super pubic, bypasses the penis and inserted directly into the bladder through the pubic area. I have no idea what this will look like, but happily, only a few of us will ever have to see the whole business in it's entirety.
We are waiting, however, for the actual surgery until August. We have so much to do in regards to my mom in June and we hope to visit Ireland in July. Surgery before we leave the country, even if it is minor, seems reckless. Why test fate if you do not need to?
Dennis is looking forward to this change. He complains of discomfort constantly with his current catheter. Then again, Dennis is prone to whining, anyway. Just another one of the reasons that I love him.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Love You, Dad
Last May, my family got together for my mother's 80th birthday and my parent's 60th wedding anniversary. At the time my brother suggested that the next time we would all be together would be for a funeral. He was right, of course.
My father was my most faithful blog reader. When I first started writing, I made a vow to write everyday for a year. I had just completed the book, Julie and Julia, and figured if she could do it, I could do it. However, I wasn't able to keep up with the task. When I first missed a day of blogging, dad called me and asked if everything was okay. Eventually, after a few of those phone calls, I had the blog delivered to his email every time I wrote a new entry.
When I was rummaging around his papers last week, looking for unpaid bills (there was only one) and such, I found many of my blog entries printed out for mom and dad to read. You would always know that the two of them had read them, because they would make some reference to them during on weekly Sunday phone calls. I will need to call upon a friend, now, to print them out and bring them to mother, for she no longer uses the computer.
I will miss my father for so many reasons. But here, on this blog, I will miss my most faithful reader.
To dad. May you rest in complete peace.
Love, Ann
My father was my most faithful blog reader. When I first started writing, I made a vow to write everyday for a year. I had just completed the book, Julie and Julia, and figured if she could do it, I could do it. However, I wasn't able to keep up with the task. When I first missed a day of blogging, dad called me and asked if everything was okay. Eventually, after a few of those phone calls, I had the blog delivered to his email every time I wrote a new entry.
When I was rummaging around his papers last week, looking for unpaid bills (there was only one) and such, I found many of my blog entries printed out for mom and dad to read. You would always know that the two of them had read them, because they would make some reference to them during on weekly Sunday phone calls. I will need to call upon a friend, now, to print them out and bring them to mother, for she no longer uses the computer.
I will miss my father for so many reasons. But here, on this blog, I will miss my most faithful reader.
To dad. May you rest in complete peace.
Love, Ann
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Dad
My dad died.
He was out mowing the lawn and he simply went down and died.
He was my most loyal supporter and loved me deeply. I will miss him very much.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Dennis Is Not Alone
I have been receiving a few emails from care-givers, lately. It seems there are a few undiagnosed Parkinson's related diseases existing in the world. They all have quite a bit in common, but none completely match what Dennis is going through.
Something is fishy. I don't believe anyone is out there, hiding the truth from us - I am not a complete nut - but, there seems to be a few too many undiagnosed, neurological disorders that is complicating the lives of too many baby boomers.
Or, perhaps, these diseases have always been in existence.
It really does not matter. Dennis is suffering from a disease his brain is controlling. Or, perhaps it is a disease that his brain lacks control over. We don't know what it is, this nasty thing. There is no stopping this disorder, not right now. We can somewhat control the symptoms, but we cannot stop the progression. Not today.
I hope someday the medical world will figure out how the brain works, how to fix malfunctions and how to keep the brain from interfering with everyone living the best life. This most likely will not happen in Dennis' lifetime. Maybe none of our lifetimes. But it seems to me, it should be at least pursued a bit more aggressively.
Something is fishy. I don't believe anyone is out there, hiding the truth from us - I am not a complete nut - but, there seems to be a few too many undiagnosed, neurological disorders that is complicating the lives of too many baby boomers.
Or, perhaps, these diseases have always been in existence.
It really does not matter. Dennis is suffering from a disease his brain is controlling. Or, perhaps it is a disease that his brain lacks control over. We don't know what it is, this nasty thing. There is no stopping this disorder, not right now. We can somewhat control the symptoms, but we cannot stop the progression. Not today.
I hope someday the medical world will figure out how the brain works, how to fix malfunctions and how to keep the brain from interfering with everyone living the best life. This most likely will not happen in Dennis' lifetime. Maybe none of our lifetimes. But it seems to me, it should be at least pursued a bit more aggressively.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
And now.........
Dennis' most recent visit to the Struther's clinic revealed one more problem that will be keeping the two of us our toes. Dennis is in the early stages of diabetes.
Those of you that have spent time with Dennis, know about his passion for Coke, pies of any flavor and ice cream. You will not be surprised at this diagnosis. While I was not caught completely off guard, I still was not prepared.
I must admit being tired of learning about medical conditions and all of the related issues that accompany any illness. I feel like we are still trying to learn about how to deal with his swallowing problems. And now a new diet issue to incorporate into our lives.
We are taking the day off, today. We slept in, took naps, ordered pizza and watched movies. Tomorrow we will have the energy, once again, to deal with the changes life brings.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
Those of you that have spent time with Dennis, know about his passion for Coke, pies of any flavor and ice cream. You will not be surprised at this diagnosis. While I was not caught completely off guard, I still was not prepared.
I must admit being tired of learning about medical conditions and all of the related issues that accompany any illness. I feel like we are still trying to learn about how to deal with his swallowing problems. And now a new diet issue to incorporate into our lives.
We are taking the day off, today. We slept in, took naps, ordered pizza and watched movies. Tomorrow we will have the energy, once again, to deal with the changes life brings.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
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