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Lewy slept again today until 2PM. This is no doubt the next big down turn in his health. The cruelest part of LBD to me is how it is like a stock market ticker; it bounces along for a while, and then takes a turn for the better. Optimism sets in, and as sure as the market corrects, so does the LBD. Unlike the stock market, I’ve yet to see one of these downturns return to the previous norm.
A slow stair step down.
When I got him up, he was soaked in pee and stinking from just plain old B.O. He had a shower yesterday, and most everyday, because he wets the bed most every night. He smells like his mother did when the dementia set in on her. A foul two week old warm vegetable soup smell is the only way I could describe it.
Lewy was disoriented, complaining of hip pain. He’s been complaining about hip pain so much, you’d think he had a fall, but no, this just came along with sleeping until after noon. The hardest thing for me is when Lewy’s Parkinson’s is acting up. He freezes, stares at the floor for 15 minutes or so then rocks, slowly, back and forth, back and forth. I’ve tried to not assist him anymore than necessary, thinking that it is better for him to manage what he can. Up until now, that had worked pretty well. Now every step has to be made holding one or both of his hands. He hasn’t gotten up unassisted for maybe 5 days now.
Lewy was standing in the middle of the bedroom, staring at the floor, and talking about how the pipes had broken during the night and flooded his room.
Lewy, you need to take a bath……………Lewy…………Lewy you need a bath.
“Well I’m standin’ here and I don’t smell me. You just always want to criticize.”
"Believe me Lewy; I can smell you, from in the hall."
I took Lewy’s hand and walked him into the bathroom. Several attempts were made to get him on the shower seat, but today, it wasn’t going to happen.
I had put it off as long as I possibly could, but it was time for me to give Lewy a bath. Rather than put him in the shower, we agreed it would be best for him to sit on the commode. I striped him, ran some soapy hot water and scrubbed him down.
Scrub, scrub, rinse, rinse........
Not exactly how I had envisioned my life.
After a good towel drying, Lewy latched on to the grab bar across from him, struggled to stand up, but almost completely hunched over and asked “Are there any dumplin’s in there?”
What a red letter day!! I not only gave Lewy his (my first) sponge bath, I gloved up, and went digging. Fortunately, no diamonds were found. I could never have imagined that I would be washing Lewy’s cheeks, much less the dark side….
When Lewy was finally clean, dressed, and at the kitchen counter stool, I did the normal ritual of pills and asking; “What do you want to eat?”
Lewy sat there with his face almost touching the countertop. Lewy?.....He looked up and said “That man the other day said Sonny (my brother) was dead”.
“He is Lewy. He died before Momma did.”
Lewy has fixated on who all is dead for the past few days. Then just like the other night, he looked me straight in the eyes and asked again if he was dead.
"You think you’d be eating biscuits and bacon if you were dead?”
“Probably.”
No Lewy, you aren’t dead yet.
“I’m not?”
No. Eat your bacon.