I’ve always known myself well enough to know that certain factors have played a big part in my being able to choose to care of my partner at home. She is, for example, really small. And even smaller now. I can actually lift her to slide her back toward the top of the bed. Her size has made it possible for me to physically care for her. She is and remains easy going, and while she has gotten frustrated at times when not understanding what is happening, rarely if ever was there an intent to hurt or threaten me. My health and age have worked with me in continuing with this choice. And my life experience in both my family and my job have made it possible for me to anticipate and prepare for what we would be up against. And truth to say, if any one of these factors had been different I could not do or have done what I am doing. I have felt all along that I have good coping and self preservation instincts.
But for a few weeks recently I found myself feeling numb. I was going through the routines of the daily care my partner needed. I was saying the gentle reassuring words that were needed. I was holding my partner’s hand. I was feeding her, washing her, dressing her, transferring her. All while feeling nothing. If I felt anything at all it was a certain grimness. In fact I was just about to start a page asking “IS FEELING NUMB A SURVIVAL INSTINCT?”. Maybe it is. But then I said NOOOOOOOOO. I didn’t choose dementia - no one does. But I did choose the way I am providing care and I will damn well feel it and own it. All of it. The grossness, the smells, the repetitiveness, the frustrations, the anger when it occurs, and the occasional, very occasional, glimpses of recognition and love. When I’m up to my elbows in poo, I will laugh at the absurdity of it. I will say to my partner look what we got ourselves into. And then wash myself off. When I cook food for my partner, food that she has liked to eat in the past, food created in the consistency that she can swallow, food that I know she will taste and then refuse, I will laugh and say to myself, you know, Lindylou, with a little ground red pepper it might not be too bad a supper for you after your love has had a mouthful. I am going to find the joy in the moment, somehow or other. I am going to laugh at it all until I need to cry. And then, damn it, I am going to cry. And rage at the heavens if I need to.
Maybe I can do this, the caring and the feeling of all the pain (and joy at times) that goes with the caring, because I know that it will not be long before she leaves me. I will shed this burden when she is gone. It is a burden. We all say we “do not want to be a burden on other people”. I understand that expression real well now. I will miss her and remember her, but I will be very very relieved at the same time when all this ends.
I’ve always felt that if I was a good actor, I could feign love and that would/could be enough to fool the other, perhaps, but also to fool myself into actually feeling love. But really, in spite of my very best loving acting, all that was there for this period of time was the grey grimness. And I couldn’t stand it, coping mechanism though it might have been. It meant that DEMENTIA was winning. It would/will eventually win and has been winning by taking my beloved in small incremental steps away from the world she loves/loved and the people (and especially me) who love her. But I couldn’t/can’t let DEMENTIA take me from me. At least not until I may eventually have to face it the same way my beloved faces it now.
i think I I understand what you are saying and your feelings. You want to keep loving your partner and you do love her but she is not there anymore. What is there is the shell of the person you love and that is present is the caregiving and the greyness. It becomes harder to see through that to the person she was the one you love.
You are still there lindylou you are strong and you will survive this. It will have changed you but you will survive and at the end of the day you will know that you have done the best you could and life will go on. Hang in there.
I remember going through these same emotions. Eventually I decided he had always been there, just hidden under the disease. I don't know if that happened to me before he died, or afterwards. Now what I have is a clear sense of who he was all along, and it is comforting.
I do think that at times you need the numbness as a means of psychic survival. If a caregiver is overwhelmed by the emotions all the time, it would just be too...well...overwhelming. And let's be honest here. It's going to be overwhelming no matter how you deal with it. Just because you are in a phase of "grey grimness" doesn't mean you love the person any the less. You're just trying to survive...because you have to...to take care of your loved one.
Must be nice to have that love. I was on the phone the other day trying to sort out a financial matter. The young person's response to me saying my DH has Alzheimer's was, "That's what we do to take care of the ones we love.". That brought me up.short. NO idea how to respond to that. All that keeps running through my head is Tina Turner singing "What's love got to do with it?"
I have long thought of taking acting classes. I am not good at pretending or lying, but am getting better and better at it. Now I am trying to become a zombie with a believeable smile because it keeps him more relaxed. When evil thoughts jump into my head I am trying to remember to ask myself if that thought is helpful. If not I tell myself to banish that. Not always able to do it, but according to cognitive behavior therapy, practice makes perfect. The problem with being a zombie is that although the experience of pain is muted, the experience of joy is also muted. Very difficult to think of living this way for 10-20 more years. But my hospice friend says it won't be that long. I don't believe her on this idea though.
We're human beings made of flesh and blood where all who have ever lived have limits. This disease is an education in being pushed beyond our limits of experience both again and again, and without let up. The stress is continuous because we do find our way back to functional positions, but neither the built up stress nor the cause have been resolved.
It should be clear that even as we continue to feel more pushed down (because we are), our coping skills are expanding greatly though unfortunately under a strong duress. My reason for saying this and my caution is that it's on the extreme edges where the tragedy of all this presents potential dangers beyond coping. In my opinion it's as dangerous to demand absolute method as it is to disengage from any method at all. The reason is that extreme duress has far less power against that which is somewhat pliable - even temporarily - than it does against the completely unyielding - even temporarily.
As to being a zombie, I found exactly that experience. The shutting down of the range was a defense mechanism that worked because being hit by more bad news works better when you're kind of stunned to the viseral extent of what keeps happening. That did cost me in muting certain feelings. Not anxiety or depression or fear. No, that would be too practical. But I've found that, for example, noticing AND FEELING the positive things in balance with the negative things is still a work in progress.
Speaking of practical, there is a wealth of information at the cottage on a lake or the christmas lodge for that matter. I know it's very hard to access this, but when we can put things aside for just a little and, even in our imagination, play for a bit - it shows us that that is there within us. We haven't lost those things - we're under siege. I agree with Elizabeth that numbness is a means of psychic survival. But a safe place to play for a few minutes, especially with others who know, is surely a balm for the soul. I don't want to overdo that, but it is real. Not the lake. The feeling.
Hmmm, Wolf, I think I will take that "pliable" idea along with my "Is it helpful" idea - "even temporarily"
I've found that NOTICING the positive things is a bit difficult lately. If I don't notice it that surely precludes the feeling part.
I've been playing at the cottage and my little side trip for the last two days. Thank you for coming along today. It has kept me from exploding.
I don't mean to hijack Lindylou's conversation. I know you are much further along than I am, but what you wrote really resonated with me. I like to hear about how you and your partner cuddle and still love each other. Makes me happy for you, and sad that that is declining so fast now. (((HUGS)))
This may seem a bit of a ramble, but bear with me.
You all, and I do mean all of you who have responded to this thread, have given me so much to think about. What would I do without this website? What you have said has made me think deeper about what I do both need and want during this time. You need to know that my partner is now "actively dying". After hearing this phrase from the doctor I looked it up and found that what it means is that the different organs of her body are now shutting down slowly. This is something I realized over the weekend was beginning to happen, and talking with the doctor yesterday confirmed it.
Now during a period of my life I read all the novels by Charles Williams I could get my hands on. He wrote in the 1930s about the same time as C.S. Lewis, Tolkien, and Dorothy Sayers. In one of the novels, I think it was" Greater Trumps”, a grandmother calmly puts on her raincoat and goes outside in a hurricane like storm in search of her brother who has not returned home. Calmly she searches for him, not finding him, as winds blow, branches and trees crash down, and torrents of rain buffet her. She hears in the midst of all this a small cry and discovers an abandoned kitten. She picks it up and puts it under her raincoat where it promptly digs all of its claws into her flesh hanging on for dear life.The grandmother turns just as calmly and returns back home.
I do not want the core of me to be destroyed by the overwhelmingness of this storm (thank you Elizabeth). Nor do I want the core of me to be buried in numbness under a mattress in the basement waiting for it to all end. . Does it have to be either/or? The storm is all around us now. I will be opening the door this weekend to family who will be adding their fears and guilt to the mix as if I am not already producing enough inner chaos myself. Now I have always felt the freedom to leave behind these emotions and go to a safe quiet place especially since Wolf opened up the virtual Christmas Lodge last December. And now I go to the virtual lake front cottage daily for short periods, to swim and to sit quietly with friends. I also go out to lunch in this real world with dear friends who know I need them. (But truth to be told, the virtual reality is in itself reality within me.)
I'm thinking of pliability, Wolf. What if I just welcome anger to come in and sit quietly for a while with my friends rage and compassion grief, gentleness,grimness, pain and love. And tell them all I understand: We all of me, every part are hurting. Can my core of me survive in calmness? I am trusting so. I have to.
I've been waiting for you. Those first two paragraphs were my fourth version of what I would answer to you. What I heard in your post was strain. Not the strain of what you are doing which must surely be there; but the strain of your core idiom.
You seem to design a self conception which then drives the powerful engines you possess to stay on message. What's unusual is the extent of consciousness where the act itself isn't unusual at all, it's the awareness of it and the extent of functional usability you access.
I understand the idea of something once conceived then requiring to be executed but that ignores the dysfunction of being rigid in execution. It isn't in the execution of the thing that the meaning itself resides. It's in the conception.
You give almost no attribute to the reality of humanity within heartbreakingly, horrific times. You give almost zero tolerance to the extreme pressure which any balance in outlook would accommodate as necessarily there, and so necessarily adjusted for. It's time to be more pliable temporarily. Learn this now because it may be one of your only chances in life to experience this.
I've read every word you've written and I have confidence you will not suffer your fears about your core if you can accommodate some pliability in range of reaction for a while now. My concern is that you can shatter if all is demanded to be executed in rigid method.
You have an amazing range in the conceptual right across through the spiritual. I'm very sorry to hear how brutally fast all this keeps happening and I'm very sorry for your poor heart. Pliability now and for some while. Think about it.
I would just stay as close to her as you can, and just go with the flow. Maybe that is the definition of "pliability." Is she still going to day care? ( I'm not sure how that could work if she is actively dying.) Your core is going to survive no matter what, lindylou. It may need to be more flexible than you ever thought it could be--like the way the Viking ships flexed as they went through the waves--or the way bridges are built with the ability to flex to survive strong winds.
It sounds like you might be needing the knotted rope. Here it is:
x-----x-----x-----x-----x-----x-----x-----x-----x-----x-----x-----x Just grab hold of your end--The rest of us are at the other end holding onto it. We've got you.
Lindylou, my thoughts are with you. Don't doubt your strength, you will make it to the bitter end. We are all witness to the love between you and your partner and we won't ever forget.
Lindylou I have tears in my eyes reading what you just said and feeling the overwhelmng love of this group when Wolf said he.was waiting for you. Is that special, or what? I wish you courage for this weekend with the family. I will be at the cottage all weekend whenever you stop by. Hang onto that lifeline. It has been used many many times here over the years but doesn't seem any the worse for wear. Well said elizabeth - like a bridge in strong winds. And like cassie said, we will never forget.
Lindylou, you seem to be an amazing person. You have given so much, just hang on a little tighter to that rope Elizabeth gave you for a little bit longer. The hard road you traveled is almost finished. Stay close to her. She needs you now more than ever. Spend all the time you can next to her side.
I spent two weeks in the same room in the nursing home with my husband. I was there with him 24 hours a day. I was there when he took his last breath and I will be forever grateful for that chance. It brings me comfort to know I was able to finish that long, hard road next to him. I thought it would never end, but it did. I breathed a sigh of relief when he took that last breath. Relief for him, and for me. I miss him terribly, even the person he was at the end. No one should have to go through what we've been through. Ten years our of my life, and his. But I take comfort in knowing I was the right person for him all along and he for me. Almost 60 years of life together is a marvelous thing. Perhaps that was the plan from the beginning: for me to be here to take care of him.
I keep reading what you write about pliability and am not sure I get it, Wolf. But maybe this is it:
My partner when she was very restless less than a week ago kept saying "I have to......I have to.....I have to....." but of course she could not say what, nor did she really know what. Finally when she said it again I just filled in the end of her sentence for her...... "go with the flow." She tried repeating back my words to me and I said it again. "We have to go with the flow." She said, I think that's right". And she lay back down and relaxed.
So I envision this - we are on the tiniest of tiny rafts, we are swept by the current, sometimes into a little backwater eddy where we can have just a glimmer of lucidity, sometimes into some whitewater where we have to hang on for dear life dodging rocks and debris, and sometimes there will be a gentleness to the current and we will just glide on down toward the great ocean where and when I will have to let go and she will go on by herself to wherever and whatever. Without me.
As you can probably tell visualization works for me and this visualization and the other in my earlier post are helping me out. But if you are meaning something else about pliability, Wolf, you are going to have to explain further. :)
Bev, bhv, Cassie, Mary 75, Elizabeth, Mim, Rona, CarolVT, Wolf, Myrtle, all you others - you all are the rope that is holding me safe. Thank you.
You know, Wolf. There is going to be a memory of this time, of all the time actually that my partner and I have shared. I want to be able to look back on it and feel that we did well together given what was thrown at us.
So when I got angry when she wouldn't/couldn't take her meds. that I could forgive myself for. But I needed desperately to find a new way, either physically or in my head, of dealing with the problem at hand. Because continuing to yell - and I did yell - at someone who only stroked my head in response was not a sustainable, reasonable, or acceptable response to the issue at hand. But, oh well, I am human. It is continuing this behavior over and over again, that I would not be able to forgive myself for. Is that being rigid or or is it being practical? I did find two ways of dealing with this issue actually: I now use a plastic medicine syringe to give her her meds, and I have decided that when/if she can no longer swallow, we will face together the inevitable seizures with the same grace we have faced previous ones. One solution is physical, the other is in my head. But I had to work to get there.
The same goes with the numbness and grimness I was feeling. I had to fight to get out of it, my soul did not want the memory of shutting down, no matter that I was shutting down to protect myself. Better, I told myself to walk in the storm of emotion as long as I and others were not being hurt by it. We've come this far, after all. So spiritually welcoming these feelings and acknowledging them and the hurt that we (me and these feelings) are experiencing, is my attempt to stay present and in the moment. With side trips, of course to the Lodge or the Lake, to regroup and refresh. And God bless my friends.
Lindylou, you are an absolute inspiration to me. I used to be able to think things through the way you are (& Wolf & everyone else here), but I no longer seem to be able to access that part of my brain. Not sure it's even there anymore! I used to be able to write, express my thoughts on paper, full of emotion & feeling. But now I don't seem to feel much emotion....I'm rather flat. My own health issues, those of my husband & now one of my sons is ill, seems it's a spinal abscess that must be taken care of SOON! He's single, & I'm the only person in his life (how sad for him). His dad can obviously be of no support, our other son lives about 10,000 miles away on the other side of the world, & it's me that must support him through this (he's had spinal problems before, that's another story). I think I'm just running on fumes, no feelings, no nothin'! You put into words things that I wish I could....thank you for that. You are an example of unconditional love.
Awww, Mim. It seems we both have to hold tight to that life line that Elizabeth threw to us - I visualize it as the arms of all the caring people who participate in this website, reaching out and hugging us, letting us lean on them when we need propping up, even when they need some propping up themselves. I have thought of you and kept you in my prayers after I learned that even while being the caregiver to your husband you were facing serious medical issues yourself. Now your son, depending wholly on you for his emotional support as well. Is their any way he can get counseling or other help through the medical system or through support groups? So its not just you expected to prop him up? Thoughts and prayers will continue to go your way every day.
P.S My love is not unconditional I'm afraid. It is merely the best that I have to offer each day. As is yours.
Here is the poem from a 13th century Muslim poet Rumi from which I got the vision of greeting my feelings and accepting them as part of me. This may be the pliancy that Wolf has been talking about with me:
The Guest House This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes As an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they're a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.
Holy Mackerel, Lindylou, that is terrific. I am going to print that out and frame it and keep it on my desk right near my buffalo. My friend, the hospice nurse, is Lakota Sioux. A friend of hers grew up to be a dentist but then retired and became a Shaman for the tribe. He carves the most beautiful fetishes out of stone. Cindy told him about me and our relationship and he carved a buffalo for me. It has a teeny tiny medicine bag tied around it with some gem stones and a feather that carry various meanings. This is the best gift I ever received. When I look at it and especially when I touch it I feel in contact with Cindy and also with the artist who carved this buffalo especially for me and Cindy together. Your poem goes with the buffalo. Definitely. I will send it to Cindy too.
I just copied the poem and put it in my Journal on my tablet. Called it Emotion Guest House fro Lindylou. I may make a new habit of reading it every morning. Thankyou.
At the very end of July I met with my partner's doctor and we discussed what was going on - she wasn't eating, drinking very little, urinating little, barely participating verbally, sleeping most of the time.. And it was then that the physician said we were entering the "actively dying" phase. I called her family on Saturday, and they dropped everything and came over that day. (None live more than an hour away.) That day was wonderful for my partner. She lay in her hospital bed and smiled, her family sitting on all sides of her and talking, the family music cd playing the songs they used to sing together.
Then the day after she began eating more, drinking more, talking more, urinating more. When I went to the PACE program yesterday for the actively dying care plan meeting, they told me that while she was still dying, she was no longer in the actively dying stage. But they did go over with me the services and help I will receive when we reach that stage again.
Decided that I will not tell her family about this latest development. I don't want them to feel like I am jerking them around. And she is not eating or drinking enough to sustain herself for any kind of long pull.
I myself feel jerked around enough as it is. Is dying a bad thing if nearly all quality of life is gone? Is living longer a good thing if we can tell each other we love each other, and if we can smile when family is near? I've decided to just tell myself that living is a good thing, and dying is a good thing. And I will just leave it at that. I hope. Thanks for the lifeline, folks. I do need it.
I'm glad that you were able to provide her with some joy so close to the end. This is so good for you both.
I can certainly understand why you are worried about your partner's family feeling jerked around. In Feb, when I told my husband's children in AZ that he was dying, they wanted to wait until late March to come here because it was too cold but I urged them not to wait. They reluctantly came earlier than planned but by the time he got here, his breathing had changed. When they realized that, they suggested that I had not been honest about the severity of his condition. Hospice helped to clear that up.
It is understandable that they felt they were being jerked around. I felt that way, too, although I thought it was death that was jerking me around. But that was not the case. Death has its own timetable and does not give a damn about us. We are just along for the ride and all we can do is our best for our spouse, which is what you are doing.
Sometimes there are some odd rallies, just when you think you are getting to the end of the line. But death is still going to happen--I think that if the family gets on trains and planes to visit when death is imminent...and then the patient doesn't die...at least they have had a chance to visit at what is a very fraught and meaningful time--at least they were there. If they have to go home, and end up missing the actual death, I think they have still shown a great deal of love and concern--and I think that the patient (in heaven now) knows that.
As Myrtle said, a rally is not uncommon. I know of many cases where they will seem to get better but it often is just a day or a few days then they go back downhill. How often have we heard people here say they knew who I was, talked to me, then went back into that black hole just before they died? Treasure the moments you get, never know if there will be another.
My husband was under hospice care and eating very little when he started eating again (a couple of meals a day) for about 3 or 4 days. On a Saturday, he ate all his meals and the health aide and hospice nurse reported that he was in a great mood and very lively. Since he had several visitors that day, I did not go to see him. I was with him on Sunday and he seemed exhausted but perked up a little on Monday and Tuesday. On Wednesday at noon, the hospice nurse called to say his breathing had changed; she was clearly caught by surprise. He died on Thursday night, so the rally on Saturday was clearly his last hurrah. I wish I had been there on Saturday but only for my sake, so I could have remembered him that way. From what I heard, he had a great day with out me.
Skin: We now have a low air mattress because my partner is quite literally skin and bones. We (the aides who come in and I) have maintained my partner’s skin well, checking it frequently and watching to see if red marks fade away after repositioning her. They have. But now this new mattress is, at present, preventing any pink or red marks from occurring in the first place. As she has lost weight I have been fearful of bed sores, so when PACE offered this new mattress I went for it. If anyone should be interested here is a website that describes how it works: https://www.phc-online.com/About_Therapy_Mattress_s/25470.htm
Dyspnea: I was calling it hyperventilation but there is a fifty dollar word for it apparently. According to my Google search about 50 percent of end stage dementia suffer from this. In the beginning of these episodes, about a year ago, she was clearly anxious, but an Ativan would help. The episodes are occurring more frequently now, several times a day. And I’m torn between giving too much Ativan and having her continue breathing in such a stressful manner. Anyone on this page have any experience with this? No other recommendations beside Ativan were forthcoming from her doctor or nurse practitioner. I will check on Monday about how much Ativan is too much Ativan.
Upcoming death at home: Had end of life care meeting with PACE. Actually our new and wonderful mattress came out of this meeting. I learned what to expect and what I need to do. I did not know that a nurse from a home health care agency will need to come to pronounce death. PACE staff are not allowed to pronounce. (The health care agency nurse already came for a screening visit this past Sunday.and she will be visiting every other week until the end.) I did not know that the police will need to be invited into our home to look at all relevant end of life paperwork before the funeral home can come.
Wake and funeral: I have decided to wake my partner at home. I got this idea from Myrtle, and how they handled it at the veteran’s home where her husband was. My partner’s family, and any friends immediately notified and who wish, can come by for the last visit here. I won’t have to stand around a funeral home in shell shock. A wonderful thing is that my partner and I joyfully planned our memorial services way ahead of time.Long before dementia raised its ugly face. She wants a New Orleans jazz band to play mournful music at the start and joyful music at the conclusion. with a celebration of life collation following.
So, if all this sounds morbid, you need to know that my partner and I sang intermittently along with her family music CD this evening. Played the CD twice. And I do believe she will be with me for several more weeks, at least. I’m hanging on to the life line, folks. Thanks.
New Orleans Jazz - reminds me of the NCIS episode when Kate died. As they were leaving the gravesite the music started playing with Abby dancing and twirling her black umbrella as she walks away with the rest of them. So, it sounds like a good way to go out.
If she is near end of life, is hospice on board? They can give her something other than ativan that will ease her breathing and make her more comfortable.
It doesn't sound morbid at all to me. You both are courageous gals preplanning things and thinking ahead. To be able to be with her and sing together and help her to go gently into that dark night is a very special thing indeed.
At the funeral for my husband's Aunt who died of cancer, her son joked that she had planned every detail and was going over things with him. She said, "Now, Ray, we will need 8 copies of the death certificate...." and they both cracked up at her use of "we"
We are here with the lifeline my dear, dear Lindylou.
"She wants a New Orleans jazz band to play mournful music at the start and joyful music at the conclusion. with a celebration of life collation following." I love this idea. What songs have been chosen? Louis Armstrong's "When the Saints Go Maching In" for the joyful finale? I wore a pink-and-white checked suit at Eric's funeral service because of the relief and joy I felt that his pain and suffering were finally over.
Thinking of you and your partner as you go through this, lindylou. The services at your home when the time comes sound wonderful...I mean...not wonderful...well, you know what I'm trying to say. Evocative, meaningful, and just what she wants.
I don't have a specific answer for the dyspnea, but do you have "just in case" oxygen in the home? When Larry went onto Hospice four months before he died, along with all the other equipment they brought over, they brought an O2 concentrator, tubing and cannula...I said he didn't need it, and they said it is just on hand in case you do need it--so there will be no delay in getting him the oxygen. Good idea, I thought. We didn't use it until the last day or so--he never would have left it on--until he was in a coma.
Hyperventilation--which I'm guessing is fast, maybe shallow breathing because she's so anxious and/or agitated, might benefit from more medication to calm her down. But dyspnea--which is shortness of breath--might be caused by the breathing centers of the brain being affected by the progression of the AD brain damage. I don't know--just making some wild guesses. Medically speaking, they would be treated differently.
It's interesting hearing about what happens in your state (Massachusetts, I think?) and town when someone dies an expected death of natural causes at home. One thing I found as a public health nurse--and then of course through personal experience--is that the regulations can vary state-to-state, county-to-county, even town-to-town...in what they want you to do in those circumstances. Some towns want the police to come over...some don't. Sometimes a nurse can "pronounce" the patient, and sometimes the funeral home has to pick up the person and swing by the hospital ER to have them "pronounced" by an MD. Sometimes the patient's MD just wants to be called by the nurse and informed of the absence of vital signs...and he'll sign the death certificate. Different strokes for different folks...but for those of us who have a loved one dying at home naturally and expectedly...it's good to know what your local regulations are about that.
Just thinking I am feeling so sorry that you and your LO have to go through all this. Many hugs to you both. (((((( ))))))
When my BIL died hospice nurse was able to call it. If an ambulance had been called they could have tried CPR but he went cold so fast (aortic aneurysm) due to lack of blood in his system, there would be no way to think you could save him. I have brought this up before about Rose Kennedy who went outside and worked in her garden for a couple hours to make sure her husband was cold. She did not want anyone trying CPR on him. When my husband dies if I have anything to say about it, he will be stone cold before anyone is notified. Of course if he dies in a nursing home won't have much to say.
I have thoughtfully read these posts today as I sit here with my sweet husband of 47 yrs. I was called to nsg home this morning as he hasn't eaten is feverish unable to sit up and is in bed unresponsive. My doctor never really talked to me about what to expect! So this is good reading to me!! I am numb, but hopeful this hell is about to end! I know it may not happen but I eagerly await and to his suffering!
Guys, when Dianne lost so much that she was reduced to being unable to move on her own or respond and had to be fed and changed without any option to heal from any of it, but only to slide further, it became clear to me that the only mercy available was in her release from this. Even though she had long lost the ability to interact in any meaningful way she went on for some time until she seemed to get tired of it and without any diagnosable condition, she started shutting down and the third time she stopped eating and drinking, she let go quite quickly. Sixty four years old, in decent condition, and without any affliction, she shut down.
Ky caregiver and Charlotte have been in this for a long time. Lindylou is experiencing more what we did which was that the disease moved faster and more relentlessly. Some people in my case said that they were sorry because the pace we suffered was harder. I'm not sure about that. I think it may be harder when the disease moves slowly. They both, and everything in between, have more than enough hardship to go around.
And so we sit and wait - in different parts of the country/world - waiting for what will come, must come. I'm thinking especially of you, Ky caregiver as I say this, but there are others too.
My partner's sister and mother came to visit this afternoon, and I consoled her mother. This coming death is the wrong sequence. She at 86 she says should be going first, she feels. And isn't she right? At least from the perspective we usually look at things she is. So she cried in my arms and I held her tight. We played the family CDs. Beautiful voices singing in harmony together. I can always pick out my partner's voice in the mix. Sometimes my partner slept, sometimes she smiled as she listened to family voices flow over her.
When the evening home health aide came tonight I told her we needed to talk together on the front porch. Last Saturday when she was here she had a melt down and spoke loudly to my partner that she had to eat, that the next time she came here she wanted to hear that she had been eating all her meals. Then she whipped around and spoke to me saying no morphine. Not ever. A client of hers apparently had just died while she had been there and it was all just too much for her. She had gone home from here right after the outburst. So today I reminded her of the event, very gently rehearsing it for her. And then I asked her if she knew why she was coming here. And I said she is coming here because my partner is dying. And there is nothing that I or anyone can do to stop it. No matter how much we lover her. And it has to be all right if she doesn't eat, because nothing we can do can make her eat. And it has to be all right with us because this is the only way we can help her. We all start by being babies and being loved. Then we grow up and learn to love. And then we have to love through the dying, as hard as it is. She and I hugged, and she handled the hour with grace as she cared for my partner. And I told her so, and that I truly appreciated her presence.
And just now I texted my partner's son and told him he has to visit tomorrow or Monday, and that tomorrow is probably best. And if he has to bring the girls I will play with them. Unless my partner begins to drink or eat more, which may happen - I don't know -, this vigil will be nearing an end sometime soon.
I feel like I am having to hold up the entire world sometimes as my partner and I go through the dying time. She and I are holding hands together between the care and eating and sleeping times. Thank God for the Alzheimer Spouse Lifeline. I think I told you all that I envision it as arms surrounding me, holding me together.
Yes, we are all there with you Lindylou and we will continue to sit beside you (and hold you) throughout this sad time. Wishing you peace and strength as you sit beside your loved one.
Gosh, Lindylou, what you taught that home health aide is immeasurable, priceless. So well said. My heart swells with something, I don't have a word to describe it, admiration perhaps. The picture of your partner smiling as she hears the harmonies of the family singing together. There is nothing really quite like that when family members have voices that go together like that. You feel it deep in your soul. I wish I had recordings of my Mom singing. Sometimes when I play the piano I feel her hands on my shoulders and I lean back just a little and listen as she sings while I play. Sometimes I can harmonize with her. She was soprano - could hit the really high notes - I am alto. You bet we are here with you Lindylou and your partner too.
I'm here with you also, Lindylou, in your vigil. Eight years ago yesterday my DW took her last sip of liquid, and slipped away quietly in the early morning hours five days later as the Hospice doctor had predicted she would. And I well remember how hard it was to make the decision to not push her to eat during those last weeks, realizing intellectually that having her take a bite or two would only extend her life for a few more hours or days, and that those days wouldn't be good days -- not for her and not for us -- and yet having her take that bite had seemed like a small victory for me. You're doing great!
I am here, too, lindylou. Arms around. You were wise to have that talk with the aide--not all of them can deal with death, and sometimes you have to work with them...or even change the aide sometimes if you have one who is not going to be able to cope--they'll usually let you know. It sounds like you've got it under control with yours.