This morning Lewy slept late again while I sat in the next room working on the computer. There’s a point in dealing with Lewy where you become grateful for his sleeping. That’s the same point the guilt sets in, because in your heart, you want Lewy to go away. Then you feel even worse.
When Lewy finally decided to wake up at 12:30, he began yelling for me.
“You ready to get up?”
“Where have you been? I’ve been ringing that bell all night trying to get someone in here!”
“Daddy, I’ve been sitting right here since 7:30. All I’ve been hearing is you snoring.”
“But why don’t you come?”
“Because you dreamed it Lewy. You’ve been asleep all morning.”
“I rang that bell all night. I don’t know why you let me just lay here like this.”
“Daddy, there ain’t no bell.”
Lewy had this look of absolute abandonment on his face. He has become childlike emotionally. Everything is a personal slight; we are ignoring him and not tending to his needs. Certainly I cannot make Lewy’s pain go away, and I can’t make him walk without freezing every second or third step. And no, I can’t stay up 24 hours a day.
I’ve thought all along that until Lewy gets to where he can’t remember me, or he can’t get up and walk enough to get himself from chair to chair that I could manage to take care of him. I’m seriously wondering if I can make it that long.
Last Spring Lewy was in a nursing home for a week after having a nasty urinary tract infection. By the end of that week, Lewy was talking to the medical equipment lined up in the corridors. He even sneaked up on an IV monitor and said “Boo!” He turned to me and giggled like a school girl.
I got him out of there the next day. If he had been there the three more weeks he was scheduled for, I can’t help but think he would have been nigh on to gone.
Therein lies the rub. I know when (if) we put Lewy in a nursing home that he will regress rapidly. There won’t be anyone there to tell him what is a hallucination and what is real. Not that he always believes that there really is not a backhoe in the living room, or that there is no one in his bed. But there are times when he says “That’s some of my people.”
Lewy is still in there from time to time. Today he stayed awake for a few hours, and shuffled around the pool table twice for exercise. A very good day all round.
No, I’m not ready to give up or give in.
Don’t worry Lewy; I’m not going to get rid of you.
Pauline
1 comment:
kddove said...
Very sad... like you said, it's almost the same with pets. My old dog had another seizure this morning and every time, I think it's over.
5 minutes later, she hopped out of my lap and ran to the door.
How do you know WHEN it's the time?