It is my opinion that no daughter should have to become acquainted with her father’s “boys”. Unfortunately it appears we are going to become good friends.
I was on the telephone today telling an old friend about the other day when Lewy was attempting to go to the bathroom. I was standing in the hall watching him gripping the grab bar and the little screen wall at the commode, straining with his last bit of energy to find the seat and sit down. Something so simple has become so hard. Lewy thinks the toilet moves around the bathroom, so he doesn’t trust it to stay there when he sits down…I wonder if the outhouse seat broke under him as a small child…
Lewy was straining to sit but would not because of this strange fear. “Daddy, just sit down, it’s directly under you. Just sit down.” Lewy tried to sit but rather instead sort of squatted moving his butt more forward than back on the seat. Watching this happen from in the hall, I had a perfect profile view of the landing.
In Hollywood action movies they show the explosions and fights in slow motion for greater effect. That was exactly how Daddy was sitting down, in excruciatingly slow motion. With my excellent vantage point, I was telling Daddy to move more backwards….”Move back you’re about to sit on your balls.” I figured I needed to get his attention. Lewy didn’t grasp what I was telling him and continued this ever so slow decent. I could see his boys touch the seat, then as he came down they were becoming more and more compressed to where they looked like they were going to pop. (Yes, I’m in the hall, bent over completely, watching this).
My male friend on the phone was laughing and agreeing that it seemed like it would not be comfortable.
But that’s not what I wanted to tell you today.
In laughing with my friend about this episode with Lewy, it reminded me of one of the now infamous family summer vacation horror stories (for my mother) from childhood. It was 1966. My parents had decided it would be a great vacation to borrow my Crazy Aunt Tom’s pull behind, pop up camper and drive to California.
To understand this story properly, you should know that my Dad’s mother was the trashiest “potty mouth” I have ever known in my life. She could teach seasoned sailors words and phrases….So of course Daddy knew all those words and would occasionally let one or two fly. I loved my Granny….On the other hand, my mother was raised – literally- if you said “by George” you got the strap. Needless to say my mother never said anything close to vulgar and her “relaxed” rules for my brother and me was we could go as far as “darn” and not get the Wrath of Mom. She thought she was very liberal with us;…and told us so. Many times.
We would drive for 6-8 hours everyday, no interstate highways, Route 66. Then we would camp in public campgrounds for the evenings. We would do this for a few days, and then spend one night at a motel to get good baths and have a decent bed to sleep on. At the time I did not see the necessity for this, but my vote didn’t count.
We got a room at some Mom and Pop motel and proceeded to settle into the room for the night. Daddy went to the bathroom to unload. When he sat down on the toilet, his “boys” splashed into the bowl water. Apparently it was pretty cold.
He jumped up cussing a blue streak. Momma was covering her ears and shushing him…”the children!!!” But that made Daddy get louder. He went over to the phone and called the front desk. Who knows who answered the phone…but who ever it was got an ear full of some of the most cleverly strung together vulgarisms you could possibly imagine. Granny would have been proud. Momma was pleading with him pulling on the phone trying to wrestle it from him…”No! No! Oh please stop.” Daddy slammed down the phone. My mother was holding her heart…she was having “the big one”. My brother and I were ROTFLOAO.
There was a banging at the door. Momma squealed “Oh No!” Daddy jumped up and flung the door open. The longest loudest series of expletives that were not deleted….The manager was trying to get a word in edgewise, but by now Daddy was on a roll. Momma was hiding in the corner of the room where this poor tiny little man at the door could not see her. She had her hands over her ears and was whimpering something to Jesus to please save her from this. My brother and I were still ROTFLOAO. This was the funniest thing we had ever seen in our lives.
Daddy slammed the door in the little man’s face. “Come on get the bags!” Momma let out a loud moan in the corner. “Where are we going to get another place to stay?” She asked. “There’s nothing else around here!”
Just then there was another knock on the door. The manager was there with a key to another room. He was moving us. Momma was apologizing to him as best she could muster, but nothing she could have said would erase all the filth that had spewed forth from Daddy’s lips. At least, I know that’s what she thought at the time.
The manager opened up the next room down and we went in. I figured the fun was over, but no, Daddy had one more way to totally embarrass Momma coming.
Momma was busy thanking and apologizing as the manager was on his way out the door.
Daddy in a loud voice said, “You ain’t leaving yet”. The man looked puzzled. Momma was mortified. Daddy had the man stand there and watch from the entry way while he pulled his pants down and sat on the toilet.
The boys weren’t swimming. “OK this is alright.”
So there sat Daddy, on the crapper with this man in the room and Momma turning every color of red in existence….The manager said that if everything was alright then he would excuse himself.
Momma rushed to the door to properly apologize and thank again. As she was opening the door, Daddy let loose a very loud rumbling fart and said “Thank you” in a low guttural voice to make it sound like it came from his ass.
I was in tears. Momma practically pushed the manager out the door.
Then Daddy started laughing; laughing at Momma. Somewhere in all that he realized what fun it would be to embarrass her half to death, and just laid it on.
That was the day I found out my Dad was a joker. After so many years of marriage, he finally got Momma to loosen up. Before she passed away she had actually tasted a wine cooler, and said the word “damn.”
She always said he was a bad influence.
3 comments:
Denise said...
Oh my God this was just too funny, you ought to write a book; I'd like an autographed copy. I can somewhat relate to this as my husband, age 61, has DLB. There have been a few times when he's needed to go to the bathroom at the wee (no pun intended) hours of the morning. In his and my sleepy state, I've failed to properly sit him on the toilet. Then comes what sounds like a very high powered water pistol being shot at the bathroom door. Naturally there's no stopping the firing until the pistol has been fully unloaded. Life with your father, it appears, has never been dull.
oldfriend said...
She's right ya know, you do have a book in you. Maybe not the book you always thought you would write, but this is totally asskickin' stuff!
pearose said...
Make that three who think that you would be doing other caregivers a true service if you put these stories into a book form. It will help the relieve the stress of other caregivers by adding a funny perspective to a not so funny situation. They can relate....
Your Lights Are On
Today we had one of those almost perfect southern snow storms. This time there was a nice layer of black ice just long enough to cause the home health nurse to cancel her visit today. Wonderful! That means I get to do her job of dressing Lewy’s feet and butt..... Oh yeah…
When Lewy finished his morning ritual dump and pee he shuffled out of the bathroom and across the hall into his bedroom with his sweat pants and diapers around his ankles. Daddy is very modest; Lewy just lets it hang out. I cut his diapers off and pulled the sweats off his feet with him standing. It seems once again I’m under Lewy’s bare butt. I just do not trust him; Daddy or Lewy. They both would delight in farting (or worse) on my head.
I took the baby wipes I discovered in the – oddly enough- baby aisle at the grocery, a place I’ve never needed to go, or ever had any interest in the things sold there, and started to clean up Lewy’s rear end where he has the bed sore developing. “Bend over.” Hum, all sorts of nasty looking things down there. I did as the nurse does, squirt it with cleaning fluid, wipe, and pluck out dead skin. Everything was going along fine until I got a whiff of the butt….Gonna need more baby wipes....Seven more to be exact.
I still shudder at the thought of wiping my Dad’s butt. This time, was a bit easier, but still….no one should have to be wiping their Dad’s rear end. It’s just too weird.
Next the feet. I had not realized how these sores smell. That nasty dead flesh smell..oh how it turns my stomach.
After the ice melted I got Daddy up and put him in the car to go to town. He always looks forward to the trips out. I don’t know why. By the time we get to the end of our road, he’s asleep. We made our appointed rounds and headed home.
Getting Lewy out of the car and into the house was an ordeal. He wanted to hold onto everything with this Superman grip. By golly that seatbelt was not going to move! I got him up and standing... We always have to wait for his blood pressure to stabilize. So we waited in the freezing cold with the wind howling out of the north. Little by little I got him to the door and inside. “You OK?” “Yeah.”
“Go on in ans sit down while I get the critter food. I’ll be right back.” And so I did. Upon approaching the door Lewy, always wanting to be helpful, opened the door for me, and knocked himself hard down onto his hip with the door. Fortunately nothing was broken.
This is a big problem. I can’t get him up. Those damn artificial knees won’t bend enough to stand up from the floor. I can’t get him on his knees, it hurts him too much. In these situations, unfortunately I have to call my nephew to come help. He is really Johnny on the Spot, only he has to drive 20 miles to get here. While we were waiting on my nephew, I put cushions from the couch under Daddy as best I could, got him a pillow, and the electric blanket. “Try to relax Daddy; it will be a while before he can get here.”
Lewy relaxed a bit for a few minutes then he started talking. “Is he inside or outside?” “Who Daddy?” “Him, the guy.”
“There’s no one here but us.” “But is he inside or outside?” Lewy seemed very worried. “Who Daddy?” “Old man [his last name]”. “You are Old Man [ ].”
“I am? Am I here?”
"Well, .....your lights are on”….
When Lewy finished his morning ritual dump and pee he shuffled out of the bathroom and across the hall into his bedroom with his sweat pants and diapers around his ankles. Daddy is very modest; Lewy just lets it hang out. I cut his diapers off and pulled the sweats off his feet with him standing. It seems once again I’m under Lewy’s bare butt. I just do not trust him; Daddy or Lewy. They both would delight in farting (or worse) on my head.
I took the baby wipes I discovered in the – oddly enough- baby aisle at the grocery, a place I’ve never needed to go, or ever had any interest in the things sold there, and started to clean up Lewy’s rear end where he has the bed sore developing. “Bend over.” Hum, all sorts of nasty looking things down there. I did as the nurse does, squirt it with cleaning fluid, wipe, and pluck out dead skin. Everything was going along fine until I got a whiff of the butt….Gonna need more baby wipes....Seven more to be exact.
I still shudder at the thought of wiping my Dad’s butt. This time, was a bit easier, but still….no one should have to be wiping their Dad’s rear end. It’s just too weird.
Next the feet. I had not realized how these sores smell. That nasty dead flesh smell..oh how it turns my stomach.
After the ice melted I got Daddy up and put him in the car to go to town. He always looks forward to the trips out. I don’t know why. By the time we get to the end of our road, he’s asleep. We made our appointed rounds and headed home.
Getting Lewy out of the car and into the house was an ordeal. He wanted to hold onto everything with this Superman grip. By golly that seatbelt was not going to move! I got him up and standing... We always have to wait for his blood pressure to stabilize. So we waited in the freezing cold with the wind howling out of the north. Little by little I got him to the door and inside. “You OK?” “Yeah.”
“Go on in ans sit down while I get the critter food. I’ll be right back.” And so I did. Upon approaching the door Lewy, always wanting to be helpful, opened the door for me, and knocked himself hard down onto his hip with the door. Fortunately nothing was broken.
This is a big problem. I can’t get him up. Those damn artificial knees won’t bend enough to stand up from the floor. I can’t get him on his knees, it hurts him too much. In these situations, unfortunately I have to call my nephew to come help. He is really Johnny on the Spot, only he has to drive 20 miles to get here. While we were waiting on my nephew, I put cushions from the couch under Daddy as best I could, got him a pillow, and the electric blanket. “Try to relax Daddy; it will be a while before he can get here.”
Lewy relaxed a bit for a few minutes then he started talking. “Is he inside or outside?” “Who Daddy?” “Him, the guy.”
“There’s no one here but us.” “But is he inside or outside?” Lewy seemed very worried. “Who Daddy?” “Old man [his last name]”. “You are Old Man [ ].”
“I am? Am I here?”
"Well, .....your lights are on”….
Rock On Lewy
Today was an amazing day for Daddy. He was up walking around without his walker or his cane. He was getting up and down out of his chair with almost no assistance. Other than being a tad confused once, he was mentally clear all day until after dinner, when Lewy showed up.
Lewy’s entrance was not as dramatic as it can be. He just sort of slipped in through the back door when we weren’t looking.
Months ago when Lewy would try to manipulate with his hands what he was seeing in his hallucinations, Hubbie and I would get each others attention and we would direct the other to see what Lewy was up to. But these episodes of fiddling in mid air occur so often now, we both watch out of the corners of our eyes and never say a word. We just watch.
Lewy was laying back in his recliner sleeping pretty well when his face contorted such that he appeared to be terrible pain. He raised up his right hand and started a rapid tapping motion with all his fingers in mid air. Then he raised his left hand, opened his eyes and stared directly at whatever his fingers were rapidly working over. Thirty seconds later Lewy was sleeping peacefully again.
I yelled at the TV basketball game (I tend to do that a lot) and woke Lewy from his nap. “When are we leaving here?”
“We’re not going anywhere Daddy. We’re watching the ball game.”
“You said to go get dressed and ready to go.”
“No I didn’t. You’ve been dreaming.”
Lewy looked straight through me. You know how you can tell where a person is focused? He was looking through me to a point I‘d guess about 10 feet behind me. Something was definitely going on in the next room. His eyes followed what he was seeing fly about the room. I returned to my basketball.
Eventually, Lewy went back to sleep. The basketball game was not going very well at all. Again I hollered at the TV. Lewy woke up. “Are you going to come put on my dress clothes for me?”
“No, I’m watching the ball game”.
“You said you were going to help me get dressed. I have to get my dress clothes on!”
“No you don’t Daddy. Were not going anywhere.”
“We’re not going dancing?” You could hear the disappointment in his voice; his face dropped. “I don’t know why you said you would then umnumnumm.”
Its later now, the game was lost and Lewy called for me. Nothing he was saying was making any sense. I couldn’t get a single word out of the mumbling. “Do you want to get up?” “Yes.”
Today, he was getting up so easy. Now he has made me step away from the walker where I use my weight as a counterbalance for him to stand up. He’s in there rocking the walker back and forth back and forth.
Once again he has forgotten how to stand up, but there’s either pride or stubbornness, I’m not sure which, that makes him refuse my help. So he rocks. Lewy gains leverage that way, or at least he thinks he does. Mostly he just rocks.
Lewy’s entrance was not as dramatic as it can be. He just sort of slipped in through the back door when we weren’t looking.
Months ago when Lewy would try to manipulate with his hands what he was seeing in his hallucinations, Hubbie and I would get each others attention and we would direct the other to see what Lewy was up to. But these episodes of fiddling in mid air occur so often now, we both watch out of the corners of our eyes and never say a word. We just watch.
Lewy was laying back in his recliner sleeping pretty well when his face contorted such that he appeared to be terrible pain. He raised up his right hand and started a rapid tapping motion with all his fingers in mid air. Then he raised his left hand, opened his eyes and stared directly at whatever his fingers were rapidly working over. Thirty seconds later Lewy was sleeping peacefully again.
I yelled at the TV basketball game (I tend to do that a lot) and woke Lewy from his nap. “When are we leaving here?”
“We’re not going anywhere Daddy. We’re watching the ball game.”
“You said to go get dressed and ready to go.”
“No I didn’t. You’ve been dreaming.”
Lewy looked straight through me. You know how you can tell where a person is focused? He was looking through me to a point I‘d guess about 10 feet behind me. Something was definitely going on in the next room. His eyes followed what he was seeing fly about the room. I returned to my basketball.
Eventually, Lewy went back to sleep. The basketball game was not going very well at all. Again I hollered at the TV. Lewy woke up. “Are you going to come put on my dress clothes for me?”
“No, I’m watching the ball game”.
“You said you were going to help me get dressed. I have to get my dress clothes on!”
“No you don’t Daddy. Were not going anywhere.”
“We’re not going dancing?” You could hear the disappointment in his voice; his face dropped. “I don’t know why you said you would then umnumnumm.”
Its later now, the game was lost and Lewy called for me. Nothing he was saying was making any sense. I couldn’t get a single word out of the mumbling. “Do you want to get up?” “Yes.”
Today, he was getting up so easy. Now he has made me step away from the walker where I use my weight as a counterbalance for him to stand up. He’s in there rocking the walker back and forth back and forth.
Once again he has forgotten how to stand up, but there’s either pride or stubbornness, I’m not sure which, that makes him refuse my help. So he rocks. Lewy gains leverage that way, or at least he thinks he does. Mostly he just rocks.
Cool Liar
It was a glorious morning. Hubbie didn’t wake me as he was getting ready to leave for work. Festus our geriatric cat didn’t get up this morning screaming “Let me ouwwt Let me ouwwwt”. Neither of the dogs barked or flopped or did anything to wake me, and Lewy didn’t start screaming my name. I awoke on my own, took a shower, brushed my teeth, walked the dogs, feed the birds, and poured my first cup of coffee before Lewy began to stir.
Lewy wanted coconut pie, chocolate ice cream, and blackberry preserves for breakfast. So that along with a fist full of pills and coffee was what he had. “Does this have all the necessary ingredients?” Lewy asked.
“Yes, the pie is milk and eggs, the ice cream is milk and eggs, and the preserves are fruit.” Remember the nurse said you needed to get lots of protein and calories for your feet to heal.” This satisfied Lewy enough that he finished his breakfast without anymore questions. In fact he just seemed to slow down. I wheeled him over to his recliner and with much effort got him in his chair and napping.
When the nurse arrived later in the afternoon she cleaned and dressed his feet. “The sores are doing much better Lewy”. She looked at Daddy and asked him if he had any questions.
“Am I going to get better?” I knew he was asking about his general health and not his feet. The nurse did not. “Oh sure, Lewy, we’re going to have you fixed up in no time.”
“I’m going to be OK?”…..The nurse still didn’t catch on. “Lewy, I’m going to be here every other day until we get you all fixed up. You are going to be fine.” She is very good about leaning over and looking him directly in the eyes to talk to him. “Do you understand?”
Lewy was quiet for a bit, then said, “You mean I shouldn’t just give up?”
The nurse suddenly got it. She made eye contact with me with the -what do I say? - look in her eyes. Then in just a couple of seconds turned to Lewy and said “You do what Pauline tells you to do, and I’ll be here to take care of you. You are going to be fine.” She held his hand and patted the back of it, smiling. She was a “cool liar” as Scarlet called Melanie.
I think I was wrong to tell Daddy the truth about his condition the other day. Lewy doesn’t have enough of a grasp of what’s happening to process that kind of information overload. Between the two of them, what is the point of being truthful? It serves no purpose. Telling him the truth did not help him, in fact it might have caused him to decide to die.
Hopefully, Lewy has caused Daddy to forget what I told him. Perhaps he will choose to remember what she told him instead.
Or more than likely, he will not remember either one and will ask the same question again. At least the next time I’ll know how to answer the question.
2 comments:
oldfriend said... have you considered sometimes a loved one just needs to know it is okay to let go? I don't think you were wrong to be truthful to your Daddy.
Pauline said...
Oldfriend,
Honestly, I'm not sure what I've considered. I can't focus on the eventual outcome of all of this for long enough to come to any conclusions. My brain is not yet ready to go there. But you are right, of course the only respectful thing to do is be honest with him. Its so much easier though, to tell him everything is OK.
Lewy wanted coconut pie, chocolate ice cream, and blackberry preserves for breakfast. So that along with a fist full of pills and coffee was what he had. “Does this have all the necessary ingredients?” Lewy asked.
“Yes, the pie is milk and eggs, the ice cream is milk and eggs, and the preserves are fruit.” Remember the nurse said you needed to get lots of protein and calories for your feet to heal.” This satisfied Lewy enough that he finished his breakfast without anymore questions. In fact he just seemed to slow down. I wheeled him over to his recliner and with much effort got him in his chair and napping.
When the nurse arrived later in the afternoon she cleaned and dressed his feet. “The sores are doing much better Lewy”. She looked at Daddy and asked him if he had any questions.
“Am I going to get better?” I knew he was asking about his general health and not his feet. The nurse did not. “Oh sure, Lewy, we’re going to have you fixed up in no time.”
“I’m going to be OK?”…..The nurse still didn’t catch on. “Lewy, I’m going to be here every other day until we get you all fixed up. You are going to be fine.” She is very good about leaning over and looking him directly in the eyes to talk to him. “Do you understand?”
Lewy was quiet for a bit, then said, “You mean I shouldn’t just give up?”
The nurse suddenly got it. She made eye contact with me with the -what do I say? - look in her eyes. Then in just a couple of seconds turned to Lewy and said “You do what Pauline tells you to do, and I’ll be here to take care of you. You are going to be fine.” She held his hand and patted the back of it, smiling. She was a “cool liar” as Scarlet called Melanie.
I think I was wrong to tell Daddy the truth about his condition the other day. Lewy doesn’t have enough of a grasp of what’s happening to process that kind of information overload. Between the two of them, what is the point of being truthful? It serves no purpose. Telling him the truth did not help him, in fact it might have caused him to decide to die.
Hopefully, Lewy has caused Daddy to forget what I told him. Perhaps he will choose to remember what she told him instead.
Or more than likely, he will not remember either one and will ask the same question again. At least the next time I’ll know how to answer the question.
2 comments:
oldfriend said... have you considered sometimes a loved one just needs to know it is okay to let go? I don't think you were wrong to be truthful to your Daddy.
Pauline said...
Oldfriend,
Honestly, I'm not sure what I've considered. I can't focus on the eventual outcome of all of this for long enough to come to any conclusions. My brain is not yet ready to go there. But you are right, of course the only respectful thing to do is be honest with him. Its so much easier though, to tell him everything is OK.
A Trip to Lewyville
Lewy here.
It was another long night last night. I’ve been sleeping in my recliner lately. That cute little nurse says I have to do that until these places on my feet get better. At first it was better than sleeping in the bedroom, what with all that drywall work going on, but it seems the workmen have finished the work in there. Now they are working on the ceiling right above my recliner. I don’t get much sleep because I have to keep an eye on the workers. If I don’t they will slack off and try to cheat Pauline out of their pay. And they get drywall dust everywhere. I keep getting that damn dust in my mouth and it sticks my tongue to my mouth. Then when Pauline finally gets up to help me I can hardly talk. It takes me almost an hour to un-stick my tongue so she can understand me.
I got up to pee seven times last night but I was still wet this morning. Those men that live in the tents outside the window came in and poured water on me again. It is just water but when Pauline comes in she seems to think it has an awful smell. She helps me change clothes and get ready for that cute little nurse to come see me today. After she helps me dress I remind her that I need my pills. I always have to remind her. She brings my pills with my breakfast; Chocolate cookie cake and oranges; Goes good with the coffee.
The nurse comes and washes my feet. She wears this funny uniform that has flowers growing out of it. Pauline knows about flowers but when I ask her about the nurse’s uniform she says the flowers are not real. I don’t understand why she says that. All I want to know is if the nurse has to water the flowers or if they get all their water from the washing machine. I know all about washing machines. I learned about them in the Navy.
I know that the nurse came by but I don’t remember much of it. When she washed my feet she kept calling me Daddy. Pauline calls me that sometimes. I decided to take a nap. I like naps a lot. When I woke up Pauline asked me to get up and come to the kitchen. I tried to but they moved the kitchen while I was asleep and it took me a while to find it. Finally Hubbie started my scaffolding for me and I was able to get to my seat in the kitchen.
Pauline is my daughter. I used to have a son but that was a long time ago. Pauline is my daughter and she has made me a chocolate pie for my birthday. I ate a big piece but not as much as the coconut pie that she made me for my birthday last week. I like coconut pie. That “Daddy” guy knows a lady that used to make him coconut pie. Sometimes I get to see her in his dreams. She looks familiar to me. I wonder if I knew her too.
After my birthday pie I ate some peanut butter crackers. The jelly Pauline gave me didn’t have much flavor but Hubbie got my hot sauce and that made it taste better. Hubbie gives me whatever I want to eat. I need to remember to pay him for the hot sauce.
I asked Hubbie if I needed any pills. He just looked dumb and then went to ask Pauline. Then he came back and gave me my pills. He seems like a good boy. Maybe not to bright though.
I tried to take a nap after I ate but Hubbie kept telling me I should get back in my recliner to do that. He seems to think I may hit my head on the counter if I sleep in the kitchen. I try to explain that if they would put the kitchen back the way it was then I could sleep there. He doesn’t understand. Sometimes I don’t think he is very smart. Maybe his is trying to get more of my money. I know he made a million dollars selling my electricity generating machine.
Finally Pauline comes over to take me to the recliner but she says I have to go pee first. I do need to pee. I haven’t been able to for three days because the threshold in the floor is not calibrated right. I tried to get the drywall foreman to have a man fix it but he said they would have to bring a man in from the city. I guess he got someone in today because Pauline said that the threshold had been fixed. The workers have moved the bathroom again but Pauline found it for me and I went to pee. She said it was OK so I took a crap too. This time the dooky came out on its own. I didn’t have to get the spoon.
Back in my chair Pauline gets me a blanket and tucks it around my feet. Bullger, the fuzzy dog, jumps up in my lap and curls up. I like Bullger. She keeps me warm while I nap. She and I take turns keeping an eye on the workmen. Good dog.
Mmmmm…..hrrrmmm. Aurrmm..hrmm……mmmm. Where is everybody?................ Did they leave me here alone?............. Did they go home without me?.............PAULINE?...................PAULINE? ……………“Where have you been?”……………………”Yes I need you to help me.”………………..“I gotta go pee.”
I take a long time to get to the bathroom but at least this time they have not moved it. When I got out of the bathroom I wanted to go to the kitchen. It was easier this time because the workmen have installed a new elevator. I got to the kitchen and found the chocolate bars. I like chocolate. It’s the only food that doesn’t need hot sauce to give it flavor. Hubbie brought me some milk to go with the chocolate. He looked at me funny when I asked for the jelly to go in it but he did get it for me. The boy just does not know what good eats are.
Good Eats is a term I learned from my TV friend. I don’t know his name but Pauline calls him Albon or Elton or something like that. When he is on TV he cooks while he and I discuss business. He wants to open a restaurant but I want to use the money we won on that game show to open a car wash.
I finished my milk and chocolate and then took the elevator back to my recliner. Hubbie was sitting in his chair. My chair was blocked by more of those damn lines and markers. I began to push the lines out of the way and I saw Hubbie watching me. He always does that when I’m trying to get these things out of my way. Maybe he puts them here. All I know is that I have to push them aside or pick them up and move them so I can get to my chair. Finally I get sat down and Hubbie brings me my blanket. He’s a pretty good boy. I should give him a tip.
Mmmmm…..hrrrmmm. Aurrmm..hrmm……mmmm. I can see the window and its dark outside. The men working in the field have set up their tents for the night; looks like they are cooking dinner. There is a little girl sitting on the couch next to Bullger. Hubbie is asleep in his recliner. Pauline is not here.
“Hubbie”……………..”Hubbie”……………..He pretends not to hear me. Then behind me I hear, “What do you need Daddy?” Who is that? Oh. Pauline. She is dressed up to go out. She helps me pee and then gets me my pills. I tell her I don’t want the pill that makes me pee at night. She says “OK” but she doesn’t take any pills away. I don’t understand.
I’m tired but Pauline says it is only 7:30.
“What time you got?”
“Ten minutes till eight.”
“I think I’ll hit the fart sack.”………………”What?”………………..”Oh.”……………………“So that my feet will heel up?”…………….”OK”
“OW!!!”..............Bullger just laid down on my balls!!
“Good night all.”
“Good night Lewy.”
“Good night.”
“Good night Daddy.”
“Good night.”
Is that what Lewy’s days are like to him? I don’t know. It’s just a guess. I do know one thing. If he would take my advice and imagine naked ladies instead of drywall workmen then I could sell this story to a different web site and make some money.
Hubbie
It was another long night last night. I’ve been sleeping in my recliner lately. That cute little nurse says I have to do that until these places on my feet get better. At first it was better than sleeping in the bedroom, what with all that drywall work going on, but it seems the workmen have finished the work in there. Now they are working on the ceiling right above my recliner. I don’t get much sleep because I have to keep an eye on the workers. If I don’t they will slack off and try to cheat Pauline out of their pay. And they get drywall dust everywhere. I keep getting that damn dust in my mouth and it sticks my tongue to my mouth. Then when Pauline finally gets up to help me I can hardly talk. It takes me almost an hour to un-stick my tongue so she can understand me.
I got up to pee seven times last night but I was still wet this morning. Those men that live in the tents outside the window came in and poured water on me again. It is just water but when Pauline comes in she seems to think it has an awful smell. She helps me change clothes and get ready for that cute little nurse to come see me today. After she helps me dress I remind her that I need my pills. I always have to remind her. She brings my pills with my breakfast; Chocolate cookie cake and oranges; Goes good with the coffee.
The nurse comes and washes my feet. She wears this funny uniform that has flowers growing out of it. Pauline knows about flowers but when I ask her about the nurse’s uniform she says the flowers are not real. I don’t understand why she says that. All I want to know is if the nurse has to water the flowers or if they get all their water from the washing machine. I know all about washing machines. I learned about them in the Navy.
I know that the nurse came by but I don’t remember much of it. When she washed my feet she kept calling me Daddy. Pauline calls me that sometimes. I decided to take a nap. I like naps a lot. When I woke up Pauline asked me to get up and come to the kitchen. I tried to but they moved the kitchen while I was asleep and it took me a while to find it. Finally Hubbie started my scaffolding for me and I was able to get to my seat in the kitchen.
Pauline is my daughter. I used to have a son but that was a long time ago. Pauline is my daughter and she has made me a chocolate pie for my birthday. I ate a big piece but not as much as the coconut pie that she made me for my birthday last week. I like coconut pie. That “Daddy” guy knows a lady that used to make him coconut pie. Sometimes I get to see her in his dreams. She looks familiar to me. I wonder if I knew her too.
After my birthday pie I ate some peanut butter crackers. The jelly Pauline gave me didn’t have much flavor but Hubbie got my hot sauce and that made it taste better. Hubbie gives me whatever I want to eat. I need to remember to pay him for the hot sauce.
I asked Hubbie if I needed any pills. He just looked dumb and then went to ask Pauline. Then he came back and gave me my pills. He seems like a good boy. Maybe not to bright though.
I tried to take a nap after I ate but Hubbie kept telling me I should get back in my recliner to do that. He seems to think I may hit my head on the counter if I sleep in the kitchen. I try to explain that if they would put the kitchen back the way it was then I could sleep there. He doesn’t understand. Sometimes I don’t think he is very smart. Maybe his is trying to get more of my money. I know he made a million dollars selling my electricity generating machine.
Finally Pauline comes over to take me to the recliner but she says I have to go pee first. I do need to pee. I haven’t been able to for three days because the threshold in the floor is not calibrated right. I tried to get the drywall foreman to have a man fix it but he said they would have to bring a man in from the city. I guess he got someone in today because Pauline said that the threshold had been fixed. The workers have moved the bathroom again but Pauline found it for me and I went to pee. She said it was OK so I took a crap too. This time the dooky came out on its own. I didn’t have to get the spoon.
Back in my chair Pauline gets me a blanket and tucks it around my feet. Bullger, the fuzzy dog, jumps up in my lap and curls up. I like Bullger. She keeps me warm while I nap. She and I take turns keeping an eye on the workmen. Good dog.
Mmmmm…..hrrrmmm. Aurrmm..hrmm……mmmm. Where is everybody?................ Did they leave me here alone?............. Did they go home without me?.............PAULINE?...................PAULINE? ……………“Where have you been?”……………………”Yes I need you to help me.”………………..“I gotta go pee.”
I take a long time to get to the bathroom but at least this time they have not moved it. When I got out of the bathroom I wanted to go to the kitchen. It was easier this time because the workmen have installed a new elevator. I got to the kitchen and found the chocolate bars. I like chocolate. It’s the only food that doesn’t need hot sauce to give it flavor. Hubbie brought me some milk to go with the chocolate. He looked at me funny when I asked for the jelly to go in it but he did get it for me. The boy just does not know what good eats are.
Good Eats is a term I learned from my TV friend. I don’t know his name but Pauline calls him Albon or Elton or something like that. When he is on TV he cooks while he and I discuss business. He wants to open a restaurant but I want to use the money we won on that game show to open a car wash.
I finished my milk and chocolate and then took the elevator back to my recliner. Hubbie was sitting in his chair. My chair was blocked by more of those damn lines and markers. I began to push the lines out of the way and I saw Hubbie watching me. He always does that when I’m trying to get these things out of my way. Maybe he puts them here. All I know is that I have to push them aside or pick them up and move them so I can get to my chair. Finally I get sat down and Hubbie brings me my blanket. He’s a pretty good boy. I should give him a tip.
Mmmmm…..hrrrmmm. Aurrmm..hrmm……mmmm. I can see the window and its dark outside. The men working in the field have set up their tents for the night; looks like they are cooking dinner. There is a little girl sitting on the couch next to Bullger. Hubbie is asleep in his recliner. Pauline is not here.
“Hubbie”……………..”Hubbie”……………..He pretends not to hear me. Then behind me I hear, “What do you need Daddy?” Who is that? Oh. Pauline. She is dressed up to go out. She helps me pee and then gets me my pills. I tell her I don’t want the pill that makes me pee at night. She says “OK” but she doesn’t take any pills away. I don’t understand.
I’m tired but Pauline says it is only 7:30.
“What time you got?”
“Ten minutes till eight.”
“I think I’ll hit the fart sack.”………………”What?”………………..”Oh.”……………………“So that my feet will heel up?”…………….”OK”
“OW!!!”..............Bullger just laid down on my balls!!
“Good night all.”
“Good night Lewy.”
“Good night.”
“Good night Daddy.”
“Good night.”
Is that what Lewy’s days are like to him? I don’t know. It’s just a guess. I do know one thing. If he would take my advice and imagine naked ladies instead of drywall workmen then I could sell this story to a different web site and make some money.
Hubbie
Conversations with Lewy:
Lewy has been standing in the middle of the room for 10 minutes…………………………
“You all right?”
“What?”
“You look like you are asleep.”
“I am.”
“If you’re going to sleep you better sit down.”
“Yeah I did that a minute ago.”
“You all right?”
“What?”
“You look like you are asleep.”
“I am.”
“If you’re going to sleep you better sit down.”
“Yeah I did that a minute ago.”
TGIF
I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes,
I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
I’m dancing tonight.
Thanks Lee Ann.
Blog y’all later.
2 comments:
oldfriend said... I am thankful for you
Pauline said...
Same back at you.
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes,
I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
I’m dancing tonight.
Thanks Lee Ann.
Blog y’all later.
2 comments:
oldfriend said... I am thankful for you
Pauline said...
Same back at you.
There are some conversations you just never want to have
Lewy has been fluctuating in his cognitive abilities lately. A good day, where he doesn’t hallucinate too much, and you can have single concept sentence discussions doesn’t happen more than 3-4 times a month now. He might have a good morning, but except for those rare days, a good morning usually means a not so good afternoon and evening.
It’s odd how when he is having a good day mentally, he is generally having a bad day with the Parkinson’s symptoms. And days where he can get up and walk around the pool table twice (a real good day!) his mental abilities seem to worsen. By the second lap around the table he’s forgotten what he was doing and why.
Today Lewy was up walking around a bit, but totally confused. I had to take him by the hand and walk him to the kitchen to eat breakfast, because he couldn’t recall where the kitchen is located. Considering our house has a great room which includes the kitchen, its hard for me to understand why he can’t find it, when I know he can see it there in front of him. But that’s Lewy. Lewy frequently doesn’t connect what he sees with what he understands.
Even eating is becoming a problem. Lewy holds the utensils perfectly fine, but he has forgotten how to get the food on the fork, or what a normal sized bite should be. I made him the pancakes he requested for breakfast. As he started eating, I started cleaning up the kitchen.
I had my back to Lewy for maybe two minutes. When I turned to face him, he had an entire pancake half stabbed by his fork, dripping syrup, raising it up above his head. I’m not sure what he was doing with the pancake, but it wasn’t getting to his mouth. Lewy struggled with his breakfast so long I decided I better help him out. I doubt it will be too long before I have to give up on him feeding himself, but with Lewy it’s hard to predict any sort of timetable. You just notice one day, that this piece is now gone.
Lewy was getting frustrated and tired trying to eat, so I rolled him in his wheelchair over to his recliner. He sat there for better than thirty minutes trying to figure out how to get up. When I went to offer help he didn’t want it. He was going to do this himself.
Finally he let me coach him on standing up, and pivoting a quarter turn to align his butt with the recliner. A good ten minute process. Once Lewy made it into his chair, I covered him up with his blanket.
Daddy looked straight into my eyes, and asked “Is this everything?”
“What do you mean?”
“Am I ever going to get rid of this thing?” I knew what he meant. What do you say? How do you look at your Dad and tell him he is never going to get better? That it will get worse? That there’s nothing that can be done?
He was looking straight at me. Something that I’m realizing in my old age, that my family didn’t do much, so I knew that this was serious. He was having a rare moment where he was thinking fairly clearly, so I decided to tell him the truth.
“No Daddy, you are not going to get better. You will have some days better than others, but it will be a steady decline.” I could see in his face that he knew what I was telling him. He has always talked about beating Lewy and getting back to his girlfriends. I could see the fear of death in his eyes.
“I’m sorry Daddy.”
“Well, we need to go see about the store. Those people are there waiting on us.”
And just like that Lewy had taken over Daddy’s head. Perhaps the realization of his own demise was too much for him, or perhaps it was nothing more than Lewy’s regularly scheduled arrival. I just hope Lewy will help him to forget.
1 comments:
oldfriend said...
a powerful moment, well written.
It’s odd how when he is having a good day mentally, he is generally having a bad day with the Parkinson’s symptoms. And days where he can get up and walk around the pool table twice (a real good day!) his mental abilities seem to worsen. By the second lap around the table he’s forgotten what he was doing and why.
Today Lewy was up walking around a bit, but totally confused. I had to take him by the hand and walk him to the kitchen to eat breakfast, because he couldn’t recall where the kitchen is located. Considering our house has a great room which includes the kitchen, its hard for me to understand why he can’t find it, when I know he can see it there in front of him. But that’s Lewy. Lewy frequently doesn’t connect what he sees with what he understands.
Even eating is becoming a problem. Lewy holds the utensils perfectly fine, but he has forgotten how to get the food on the fork, or what a normal sized bite should be. I made him the pancakes he requested for breakfast. As he started eating, I started cleaning up the kitchen.
I had my back to Lewy for maybe two minutes. When I turned to face him, he had an entire pancake half stabbed by his fork, dripping syrup, raising it up above his head. I’m not sure what he was doing with the pancake, but it wasn’t getting to his mouth. Lewy struggled with his breakfast so long I decided I better help him out. I doubt it will be too long before I have to give up on him feeding himself, but with Lewy it’s hard to predict any sort of timetable. You just notice one day, that this piece is now gone.
Lewy was getting frustrated and tired trying to eat, so I rolled him in his wheelchair over to his recliner. He sat there for better than thirty minutes trying to figure out how to get up. When I went to offer help he didn’t want it. He was going to do this himself.
Finally he let me coach him on standing up, and pivoting a quarter turn to align his butt with the recliner. A good ten minute process. Once Lewy made it into his chair, I covered him up with his blanket.
Daddy looked straight into my eyes, and asked “Is this everything?”
“What do you mean?”
“Am I ever going to get rid of this thing?” I knew what he meant. What do you say? How do you look at your Dad and tell him he is never going to get better? That it will get worse? That there’s nothing that can be done?
He was looking straight at me. Something that I’m realizing in my old age, that my family didn’t do much, so I knew that this was serious. He was having a rare moment where he was thinking fairly clearly, so I decided to tell him the truth.
“No Daddy, you are not going to get better. You will have some days better than others, but it will be a steady decline.” I could see in his face that he knew what I was telling him. He has always talked about beating Lewy and getting back to his girlfriends. I could see the fear of death in his eyes.
“I’m sorry Daddy.”
“Well, we need to go see about the store. Those people are there waiting on us.”
And just like that Lewy had taken over Daddy’s head. Perhaps the realization of his own demise was too much for him, or perhaps it was nothing more than Lewy’s regularly scheduled arrival. I just hope Lewy will help him to forget.
1 comments:
oldfriend said...
a powerful moment, well written.
Lewy in E Minor
Hubbie here. Lewy has been doing something for a while now that seems to have taken on greater significance to him of late. You know he has Parkinson’s along with the LBD and you know that it is a disease of nervous twitches and shakes. What his is doing kind of looks like that but with purpose. He reaches out and plucks at things or pushes them aside or waves his hand like he is stirring up the liquid in a large unseen tub. What is he doing? What is he seeing?
Whatever it is, it is not particularly disturbing. On occasion he has remarked that he can’t seem to “push that line out of the way” but it is simply stated as a fact, not as a problem. Sometimes it appears that he is plucking something, or rather many tiny things, from the air. He said once that he was having trouble picking up the marks. Again, a simply statement of fact. What is he doing? What is he seeing?
I have a theory but I sort of stole it. In J.R.R Tolkien’s The Sillmarillion, Iluvatar created the Ainur and taught them to sing a harmony of creation. I think Lewy is conducting a symphony. Can you imagine how marvelous that would be?
The Ainur started with sound. The first movement of Lewy’s symphony seems to be in colors and shapes. How cool is that? Suppose Lewy is learning to control the lines and the marks, arranging them the way he wants them to be; making some sort of sense of them; making a symphony of lines and marks; of colors and shapes. Why not? Just because you imagine things, it doesn’t mean you have to imagine bad things. I myself have suggested to Lewy on occasion that if he were going to have imaginary people around he should make the beautiful dancing ladies. Preferably naked ones with large breasts. (Hey. It’s a guy thing. Sure would beat hell out of imaginary drywall contractors and painters.)
Where was I………………..oh yeah.
I wonder what Lewy’s symphony of color and shapes is like. Enchanting I’ll bet. I wonder if when he completes the visual movement of the symphony there will be a second movement where Lewy’s Ainur are taught sound. What harmonies will Lewy create? Will he have a Melkor that breaks ranks and disrupts his harmonies? I think not. I think maybe once Lewy molds his lines and marks into a cohesive whole over which he has gained control. It may not be control in the world that you and I live in but Lewy doesn’t live in our world. Daddy does. Lewy doesn’t.
So push those lines and pluck those marks Lewy. Create your masterpiece. I may never get to see the colors and shapes or hear the harmonies but I am fascinated by the conducting.
Whatever it is, it is not particularly disturbing. On occasion he has remarked that he can’t seem to “push that line out of the way” but it is simply stated as a fact, not as a problem. Sometimes it appears that he is plucking something, or rather many tiny things, from the air. He said once that he was having trouble picking up the marks. Again, a simply statement of fact. What is he doing? What is he seeing?
I have a theory but I sort of stole it. In J.R.R Tolkien’s The Sillmarillion, Iluvatar created the Ainur and taught them to sing a harmony of creation. I think Lewy is conducting a symphony. Can you imagine how marvelous that would be?
The Ainur started with sound. The first movement of Lewy’s symphony seems to be in colors and shapes. How cool is that? Suppose Lewy is learning to control the lines and the marks, arranging them the way he wants them to be; making some sort of sense of them; making a symphony of lines and marks; of colors and shapes. Why not? Just because you imagine things, it doesn’t mean you have to imagine bad things. I myself have suggested to Lewy on occasion that if he were going to have imaginary people around he should make the beautiful dancing ladies. Preferably naked ones with large breasts. (Hey. It’s a guy thing. Sure would beat hell out of imaginary drywall contractors and painters.)
Where was I………………..oh yeah.
I wonder what Lewy’s symphony of color and shapes is like. Enchanting I’ll bet. I wonder if when he completes the visual movement of the symphony there will be a second movement where Lewy’s Ainur are taught sound. What harmonies will Lewy create? Will he have a Melkor that breaks ranks and disrupts his harmonies? I think not. I think maybe once Lewy molds his lines and marks into a cohesive whole over which he has gained control. It may not be control in the world that you and I live in but Lewy doesn’t live in our world. Daddy does. Lewy doesn’t.
So push those lines and pluck those marks Lewy. Create your masterpiece. I may never get to see the colors and shapes or hear the harmonies but I am fascinated by the conducting.
It Practically Gallops
Me again. Lewy is asleep in his recliner. Pauline is in the hot tub. It seems I have been delegated to write something for posting tomorrow. We have discussed in earlier epistles of mine that Pauline and I have been married a long time. And much like going to college teaches one how to graduate from college, being married a long time teaches you how to stay married. And if you have been married a really long time, say thirty-one years, you have a fair idea how far you can push your luck.
So I HAVE to write something huh? Hmmmmmmmmm………..Let me think…………………
In the words of Red Skelton’s Mean Little Kid. “If I do’d it, I get a whippin’………………….I do’d it!”
Let me tell you a little about this family I married in to.
All families have their characters. My paternal grandparents are a Comedy Central Special all by themselves. He never drove faster than 35 MPH and she never drove slower than 50. When I was in High School her car was faster than both of the police cars in town. I know cause I drove one and was chased by the other. It was 327 2-barrel vs. 327 4-barrel and yes when I say “both” it means that there were only two police cars in town. “Granddaddy” on the other hand, well……………………… the windshield wipers on his car didn’t work because when he went to the car wash, he washed the car INSIDE and out. It seems electronics don’t go well with water, even if you own the car wash.
But Pauline’s family……….…mmmm……………...oh boy! Crazy with Cajun sauce on it.
First off, they are part Cajun, so they eat. I missed the heyday of the eating but I heard of it. At Thanksgiving they did not use plates; instead everyone got a platter. But it is not as bad as it sounds. They would each eat a platter of food but then they would go for a nice long walk. This allowed the body to prepare for the desert platter. The really Cajun part of the family, as do all good Cajuns, liked to eat fish. Her Cajun Grandmother used a line, pole and bait, but when that wasn’t working she would wade out into the swamp and just grab the damn fish!
Second off, they are part hillbilly so they love to fight. Her Hillbilly Grandmother and her Aunt once lived one house apart, a neighbor in-between. It seems that one day they got in such a fight that they stood in their respective front yards and hurled insults and kitchen utensils at each other over the demilitarized zone. (To be a “Fair Witness” here, I must confess that I bear on my forehead a scar made by a cast iron skillet. The skillet was thrown by a neighbor and I failed to catch it but, in my defense, we were tossing cast iron skillets as a game. Who would do such a thing in anger?)
Lewy is the son of the hillbilly. After growing up a dirt poor farmer and then seeing the world during WWII, Lewy became a salesman. And let me tell you he got good at it. Lewy didn’t just sell ice to Eskimos. He bought the ice from them, put wheels on it and sold it back to them as “portable ice”; at a profit, of course. I have told you that Lewy once ran Wobbly Box Sales, Inc. Well he once took a live hog as part of the deal on an RV. To this day he claims it was the best deal he ever made.
And then………………oh then………………….then there was Lewy’s sister. There was Aunt Eddie. There were some things I liked about her and some things I hated, but one thing was for sure. Aunt Eddie was f***ing nuts!
Aunt Eddie lived in a big house with that kind of old furniture that you didn’t want to sit on even if you had been allowed too. Her husband built commercial airplanes. His name is withheld because some of you may cras……….be flying on those planes. Aunt Eddie had this little gray poodle; the only animal in this world that I ever hated. I once lofted it across the room like a bowling ball. It bounced off the wall and was not hurt. I am still a bit disappointed.
Aunt Eddie was truly always bizarre but please do not take any of this as me ever making fun of her or anyone else. I love these people. Without them I would not have Pauline………………………even if she is f***ing nuts.
As I tell everyone I insult, “I kid you only because I like you. If I did not like you, you would know so by the absence of my voice”. In that spirit here are a few things that Aunt Eddie taught us:
“Oh it’s so hard………..I am allergic to sunshine and air.”
“I can‘t use this phone. It has the wrong language on it.”
“I never dial one or zero for long distance. They charge you for that.”
While telling us of days gone by………”There was a lot of people there. I didn’t know everybody’s name. I knew my name.”
“Did you know that there are more Chinese people in the United States now than there are white people?”
“You know there was a lot of people died of the bubonic plague before the civil war!” Aunt Eddie was a big fan of the Civil War.”
To the Doctor…………..”I don’t need no physical. They already cut everything out of me.”
“Oh………….I can’t have sex no more. I don’t have the knees for it.”
And then the classic. Aunt Eddie had some drastic surgery at one point and to help with the pain they put a subcutaneous (under the skin) morphene pump. At least so she said. One day she called asked Pauline to please come take her to the Emergency Room. Pauline obliged and when they arrived Eddie walked straight up to the front desk, lifted her sweater and pushed her abdomen out to display the slightly protruding pump. She looked the young nurse straight in the eye and declared “This here time machine is empty and I’m here to have it refilled.”
God Bless Em All. When I grow up I want to be f***ing nuts.
So I HAVE to write something huh? Hmmmmmmmmm………..Let me think…………………
In the words of Red Skelton’s Mean Little Kid. “If I do’d it, I get a whippin’………………….I do’d it!”
Let me tell you a little about this family I married in to.
All families have their characters. My paternal grandparents are a Comedy Central Special all by themselves. He never drove faster than 35 MPH and she never drove slower than 50. When I was in High School her car was faster than both of the police cars in town. I know cause I drove one and was chased by the other. It was 327 2-barrel vs. 327 4-barrel and yes when I say “both” it means that there were only two police cars in town. “Granddaddy” on the other hand, well……………………… the windshield wipers on his car didn’t work because when he went to the car wash, he washed the car INSIDE and out. It seems electronics don’t go well with water, even if you own the car wash.
But Pauline’s family……….…mmmm……………...oh boy! Crazy with Cajun sauce on it.
First off, they are part Cajun, so they eat. I missed the heyday of the eating but I heard of it. At Thanksgiving they did not use plates; instead everyone got a platter. But it is not as bad as it sounds. They would each eat a platter of food but then they would go for a nice long walk. This allowed the body to prepare for the desert platter. The really Cajun part of the family, as do all good Cajuns, liked to eat fish. Her Cajun Grandmother used a line, pole and bait, but when that wasn’t working she would wade out into the swamp and just grab the damn fish!
Second off, they are part hillbilly so they love to fight. Her Hillbilly Grandmother and her Aunt once lived one house apart, a neighbor in-between. It seems that one day they got in such a fight that they stood in their respective front yards and hurled insults and kitchen utensils at each other over the demilitarized zone. (To be a “Fair Witness” here, I must confess that I bear on my forehead a scar made by a cast iron skillet. The skillet was thrown by a neighbor and I failed to catch it but, in my defense, we were tossing cast iron skillets as a game. Who would do such a thing in anger?)
Lewy is the son of the hillbilly. After growing up a dirt poor farmer and then seeing the world during WWII, Lewy became a salesman. And let me tell you he got good at it. Lewy didn’t just sell ice to Eskimos. He bought the ice from them, put wheels on it and sold it back to them as “portable ice”; at a profit, of course. I have told you that Lewy once ran Wobbly Box Sales, Inc. Well he once took a live hog as part of the deal on an RV. To this day he claims it was the best deal he ever made.
And then………………oh then………………….then there was Lewy’s sister. There was Aunt Eddie. There were some things I liked about her and some things I hated, but one thing was for sure. Aunt Eddie was f***ing nuts!
Aunt Eddie lived in a big house with that kind of old furniture that you didn’t want to sit on even if you had been allowed too. Her husband built commercial airplanes. His name is withheld because some of you may cras……….be flying on those planes. Aunt Eddie had this little gray poodle; the only animal in this world that I ever hated. I once lofted it across the room like a bowling ball. It bounced off the wall and was not hurt. I am still a bit disappointed.
Aunt Eddie was truly always bizarre but please do not take any of this as me ever making fun of her or anyone else. I love these people. Without them I would not have Pauline………………………even if she is f***ing nuts.
As I tell everyone I insult, “I kid you only because I like you. If I did not like you, you would know so by the absence of my voice”. In that spirit here are a few things that Aunt Eddie taught us:
“Oh it’s so hard………..I am allergic to sunshine and air.”
“I can‘t use this phone. It has the wrong language on it.”
“I never dial one or zero for long distance. They charge you for that.”
While telling us of days gone by………”There was a lot of people there. I didn’t know everybody’s name. I knew my name.”
“Did you know that there are more Chinese people in the United States now than there are white people?”
“You know there was a lot of people died of the bubonic plague before the civil war!” Aunt Eddie was a big fan of the Civil War.”
To the Doctor…………..”I don’t need no physical. They already cut everything out of me.”
“Oh………….I can’t have sex no more. I don’t have the knees for it.”
And then the classic. Aunt Eddie had some drastic surgery at one point and to help with the pain they put a subcutaneous (under the skin) morphene pump. At least so she said. One day she called asked Pauline to please come take her to the Emergency Room. Pauline obliged and when they arrived Eddie walked straight up to the front desk, lifted her sweater and pushed her abdomen out to display the slightly protruding pump. She looked the young nurse straight in the eye and declared “This here time machine is empty and I’m here to have it refilled.”
God Bless Em All. When I grow up I want to be f***ing nuts.
Oh, Lewy. If Only....
Wooopee!! We are RICH! Yep by golly, Lewy told me tonight that he wanted to help us. He was upset that we don’t tell him everything and he has to figure everything out for himself. Lewy figured out that we have a business in several of the county seats around here and it is worth $30,000,000. Yes folks we be rich now.
I can’t help but wonder though, what business it is that we are in. I hope its fun and involves travel.
I asked him to tell me about it, but he would not talk about money, -you know how his generation is about that- with all the people in the room…..Hubbie was asleep in the recliner and the hockey game was on TV. Other than all those folks at the game, there was no one there but us. Never the less Lewy would not speak further of this soon to be mine, fortune.
As I tucked him in, I promised that tomorrow no one would be here but us, and we could talk about it then…..now lets see…what could I do with 30 mil?
3 comments:
oldfriend said...
DEFINITELY TRAVEL WEST
Pauline said...
Ah Oldfriend...now I know who you are! Welcome to my world.
Hugs.
I can’t help but wonder though, what business it is that we are in. I hope its fun and involves travel.
I asked him to tell me about it, but he would not talk about money, -you know how his generation is about that- with all the people in the room…..Hubbie was asleep in the recliner and the hockey game was on TV. Other than all those folks at the game, there was no one there but us. Never the less Lewy would not speak further of this soon to be mine, fortune.
As I tucked him in, I promised that tomorrow no one would be here but us, and we could talk about it then…..now lets see…what could I do with 30 mil?
3 comments:
oldfriend said...
DEFINITELY TRAVEL WEST
Pauline said...
Ah Oldfriend...now I know who you are! Welcome to my world.
Hugs.
Conversations with Lewy:
Lewy: “Once you pick off the earth unumunm got to be. Take one sample; wouldn’t be the same sample. Then take another sample. That’s when you get a reading….So if I dump what I have here (rattling the walker)….understand?”
Pauline: “No.”
“I need to go dooky-do. Turn it over to the Crapologist.”
Pauline: “No.”
“I need to go dooky-do. Turn it over to the Crapologist.”
Get her Ass!
Hubbie and I are big sports fans. We will watch a game being played by two teams we never heard of before. Except for baseball; for some reason neither of us has ever cared about it, unless it involves the SEC. Then we will watch baseball or softball.
This sets the stage for the very big SEC women’s basketball game the other night. Hubbie, Lewy, and I all are positioned in our respective recliners nicely settled in after a great dinner that Hubbie made.
Daddy never cared at all for sports, but for some reason Lewy is interested enough to ask questions. For instance, the other night when the basketball game was about 2/3rds way through the 1st half, Lewy asked when the game was going to start…..Much more interest than Daddy ever had.
As expected Lewy decided it was time to go to sleep for the night. We are still having him sleep in his recliner because of the sores on his feet…..Lewy always wants something just right at the moment you really really want to see what’s on the TV. It never fails. There’s no waiting with Lewy. You cannot expect him to grasp why you want to wait five minutes. No! It has to be now! Having learned from experience, in order to miss the least amount of the program, getting up and tending to Lewy immediately is generally the best option.
What I was really wanting to see was the home team put up some defense against the highly ranked visiting team. I got up from my chair and went to flip the lever on Lewy’s recliner to tilt him back and elevate his feet, all the while watching the game over my shoulder.
I went and got Daddy’s favorite blanket and switched sides of his chair so I could watch the game while I put the covers on him. Just as I was leaning over him with the blanket I yelled at the TV “GET HER ASS!”
Daddy said “Are you talking to me?” Turned and pointed at the TV grinning ear to ear and said “Which one do I get?”
“Those girls could kick your ass.”
“I’ll rassel (wrestle to the rest of the world) any of ‘em.” Then Lewy drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face. I guess even in Lewy’s state, you can still dream.
This sets the stage for the very big SEC women’s basketball game the other night. Hubbie, Lewy, and I all are positioned in our respective recliners nicely settled in after a great dinner that Hubbie made.
Daddy never cared at all for sports, but for some reason Lewy is interested enough to ask questions. For instance, the other night when the basketball game was about 2/3rds way through the 1st half, Lewy asked when the game was going to start…..Much more interest than Daddy ever had.
As expected Lewy decided it was time to go to sleep for the night. We are still having him sleep in his recliner because of the sores on his feet…..Lewy always wants something just right at the moment you really really want to see what’s on the TV. It never fails. There’s no waiting with Lewy. You cannot expect him to grasp why you want to wait five minutes. No! It has to be now! Having learned from experience, in order to miss the least amount of the program, getting up and tending to Lewy immediately is generally the best option.
What I was really wanting to see was the home team put up some defense against the highly ranked visiting team. I got up from my chair and went to flip the lever on Lewy’s recliner to tilt him back and elevate his feet, all the while watching the game over my shoulder.
I went and got Daddy’s favorite blanket and switched sides of his chair so I could watch the game while I put the covers on him. Just as I was leaning over him with the blanket I yelled at the TV “GET HER ASS!”
Daddy said “Are you talking to me?” Turned and pointed at the TV grinning ear to ear and said “Which one do I get?”
“Those girls could kick your ass.”
“I’ll rassel (wrestle to the rest of the world) any of ‘em.” Then Lewy drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face. I guess even in Lewy’s state, you can still dream.
Conversations with Lewy:
Pauline: (Handing Lewy a warm soapy washcloth): “Wash your crotch.”
Lewy: “Washcloth?”
Pauline: “Wash your crotch.”
Lewy: “I don’t want a washcloth”
Pauline: “Wash your balls!!!”
Lewy: “Well you shoulda said what you wanted the first time.”
Lewy: “Washcloth?”
Pauline: “Wash your crotch.”
Lewy: “I don’t want a washcloth”
Pauline: “Wash your balls!!!”
Lewy: “Well you shoulda said what you wanted the first time.”
The Rumble for the Bumble...Lewy vs. Daddy
Hubbie here. Pauline started something new lately that struck a chord with me. In her writings she has started noting the difference in speaking to Lewy and in speaking to her Daddy. This is a very important distinction. Pauline has received comments from some of you about how LBD stole your mother, or husband or wife. But they have not been stolen. They are still there. They are inside. They are just asleep or trapped or maybe just too tired to fight their way out. Sometimes they wake up and speak to us for a while; let us know they are still alive. But mostly they sleep. It’s tough to fight Lewy. He is one tough son of a bitch. And, truth is, he just trying to take you into the late rounds and wear you down. He’s Frazier and not too many of us are Ali.
My Dad did not have LBD. He had a different curse that vibrated his muscles 24/7 and basically burned his body out. As the disease progressed he lost the ability to speak. He lost the ability to do pretty much anything. But even at that point he was still alive inside. He was still there. One of the last times I was “alone” with him was in the ER at the local hospital.
It’s funny but now I can’t even remember the event that caused my mother to call and inform me that I needed to help get Dad to the emergency room. Mom is not one to cry wolf so I came. Around 1 AM he was in a stretcher in the local hospital emergency ward. We went thru the standard procedures and as such a male nurse came in to install a catheter. For the two of you who don’t know, this involves shoving a quarter inch diameter plastic tube all the way down the penis of a male patient. It is not a pleasant experience for the receiver, the giver, or the observer. Daddy held my hand while the nurse worked. I stared into his eyes and he looked deep into mine. No words were spoken.
“This really sucks, don’t it Dad.”
“Yeah. Sorry you have to put up with this.”
“Hey. I owe ya a couple.”
So if you have somebody that is being pulled into the light, hang on to them. Carol Anne made it back. Maybe your person can too. At least once in a while. Watch for it. You don’t want to miss it.
John Prine, as is often the case, said it best in Hello In There.
I’d love to leave you a copy but the RIAA is everywhere. Tell you what, I’ll hum the melody in the background as you read the words.
We had an apartment in the city,
Me and Loretta liked living there.
Well, it'd been years since the kids had grown,
A life of their own left us alone.
John and Linda live in Omaha,
And Joe is somewhere on the road.
We lost Davy in the Korean war,
And I still don't know what for,
don't matter anymore.
Ya' know that old trees just grow stronger,
And old rivers grow wilder ev'ry day.
Old people just grow lonesome
Waiting for someone to say,
"Hello in there, hello."
Me and Loretta, we don't talk much more,
She sits and stares through the back door screen.
And all the news just repeats itself
Like some forgotten dream that we've both seen.
Someday I'll go and call up Rudy,
We worked together at the factory.
But what could I say if he asks "What's new?"
"Nothing, what's with you?
Nothing much to do."
Ya' know that old trees just grow stronger,
And old rivers grow wilder ev'ry day.
Old people just grow lonesome
Waiting for someone to say,
"Hello in there, hello."
So if you're walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes,
Please don't just pass 'em by and stare
As if you didn't care, say,
"Hello in there, hello."
3 comments:
oldfriend said...
well done, Hubbie
Anonymous said...
Thanks.
That one was a bit tough to write but I do love the distinction Pauline has made. It really helps understand and deal with the situation.
Thanks for reading.
Hubbie
Anonymous said...
Thank you for your writings - I have no doubt that I am in the same situation with my mother but I have not had the benefit of a probable diagnosis. Wondering has been the worst part though I understand that the treatment would be the same regardless of assigning an official name to her progressive problem (Sinemet, Aricept & Namenda). The visuo/spatial component problem is now the hardest to deal with, really - as you illustrated with 'put your hands here (on the walker)', yet the hands go elsewhere. My mother can read a greeting card but can not find the food on her plate. The constant sleepiness is increasing also. Thank you again for sharing your ongoing observations.
My Dad did not have LBD. He had a different curse that vibrated his muscles 24/7 and basically burned his body out. As the disease progressed he lost the ability to speak. He lost the ability to do pretty much anything. But even at that point he was still alive inside. He was still there. One of the last times I was “alone” with him was in the ER at the local hospital.
It’s funny but now I can’t even remember the event that caused my mother to call and inform me that I needed to help get Dad to the emergency room. Mom is not one to cry wolf so I came. Around 1 AM he was in a stretcher in the local hospital emergency ward. We went thru the standard procedures and as such a male nurse came in to install a catheter. For the two of you who don’t know, this involves shoving a quarter inch diameter plastic tube all the way down the penis of a male patient. It is not a pleasant experience for the receiver, the giver, or the observer. Daddy held my hand while the nurse worked. I stared into his eyes and he looked deep into mine. No words were spoken.
“This really sucks, don’t it Dad.”
“Yeah. Sorry you have to put up with this.”
“Hey. I owe ya a couple.”
So if you have somebody that is being pulled into the light, hang on to them. Carol Anne made it back. Maybe your person can too. At least once in a while. Watch for it. You don’t want to miss it.
John Prine, as is often the case, said it best in Hello In There.
I’d love to leave you a copy but the RIAA is everywhere. Tell you what, I’ll hum the melody in the background as you read the words.
We had an apartment in the city,
Me and Loretta liked living there.
Well, it'd been years since the kids had grown,
A life of their own left us alone.
John and Linda live in Omaha,
And Joe is somewhere on the road.
We lost Davy in the Korean war,
And I still don't know what for,
don't matter anymore.
Ya' know that old trees just grow stronger,
And old rivers grow wilder ev'ry day.
Old people just grow lonesome
Waiting for someone to say,
"Hello in there, hello."
Me and Loretta, we don't talk much more,
She sits and stares through the back door screen.
And all the news just repeats itself
Like some forgotten dream that we've both seen.
Someday I'll go and call up Rudy,
We worked together at the factory.
But what could I say if he asks "What's new?"
"Nothing, what's with you?
Nothing much to do."
Ya' know that old trees just grow stronger,
And old rivers grow wilder ev'ry day.
Old people just grow lonesome
Waiting for someone to say,
"Hello in there, hello."
So if you're walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes,
Please don't just pass 'em by and stare
As if you didn't care, say,
"Hello in there, hello."
3 comments:
oldfriend said...
well done, Hubbie
Anonymous said...
Thanks.
That one was a bit tough to write but I do love the distinction Pauline has made. It really helps understand and deal with the situation.
Thanks for reading.
Hubbie
Anonymous said...
Thank you for your writings - I have no doubt that I am in the same situation with my mother but I have not had the benefit of a probable diagnosis. Wondering has been the worst part though I understand that the treatment would be the same regardless of assigning an official name to her progressive problem (Sinemet, Aricept & Namenda). The visuo/spatial component problem is now the hardest to deal with, really - as you illustrated with 'put your hands here (on the walker)', yet the hands go elsewhere. My mother can read a greeting card but can not find the food on her plate. The constant sleepiness is increasing also. Thank you again for sharing your ongoing observations.
Lewy, Stand Up
Lewy was feeling pretty good today. His Parkinson symptoms were minimal, which means he was mobile. The only problem was; Lewy was navigating. Getting him up and out of his chair takes the assistance of a walker (“scaffolding” to Lewy), and every ounce of my body weight leaning on the scaffolding to be a counterbalance for Lewy.
Lewy decided he wanted to get up from his chair. As usual, I waited for him to ask for help. His issues with rigidity were not overtly present. Lewy had just forgotten how to stand up. He rocked back and forth for minutes on end thinking the next rock will propel him upward. When I gave him the walker, he just fliped it back on himself. If I tried to leverage him by holding onto his wrists and leaning backwards, he leaned backwards to prevent me from falling. Needless to say no one managed to go anywhere.
“Daddy…Daddy…..Daddy…look at me. Look at me. Daddy, look at me”. I get a blank stare from Lewy. “Daddy spread your feet apart”. I reach down with my foot and spread his feet so each one is properly aligned with his hips. Lewy looks at the floor.
“Daddy, look at me”. Lewy looks up, but never makes eye contact. “Daddy?” I wave my hands in front of his eyes to get his attention. “Put your hands here on the scaffolding. No, here. Here…I have to pick up both hands and place them in their proper positions on the walker. Lewy dropped his hands to the back side of the scaffolding and started pulling. “No Daddy, put your hands here. You have to get your hands up here for the leverage”.
“I know how to work this thing!” Lewy rattled the scaffolding and jerked it back on himself repeatedly, until he got too tired to do it anymore. I repositioned the walker, took his hands and placed them on the scaffolding for Lewy. “Daddy, lean forward.” Lewy stiff armed the walker pushing it backwards towards me. “No Daddy, bend your arms, then lean forward.” A compound command is often too much for Lewy to deal with. After several tries and me pushing on the inside of his elbow and commanding “bend your arm, bend your arm”, he gets that light bulb going and bends his arms.
“Now lean forward”. No, forward. Lean towards me.”
“But I’ll push you over.”
“No, I’ll be fine. Come on Daddy, lean forward……lean….forward.” Lewy leans backwards. “No Daddy lean towards me”, I say as I grab him by the collar and pull him forward. “Now, push with your legs. PUSH….PUSH"…I feel like I'm a coaching a birth…."Come on Daddy, you have to push up with your legs at the same time as you lean forward.”
Finally after several rockings and explanations why it won’t work and why I’m telling him wrong, he finally gets tired enough to humor me and do it my way. Low and behold, he stands right up. Not a problem.
“See Daddy, if you do it the way I asked you to, it’s easier to stand up.”
“Well! You didn’t explain it clear enough. I didn’t know you wanted me to stand up.”
“You are the one that wanted to stand up!” I forgot I was talking to Lewy.
“So, where are you going?” I asked Lewy.
“I’m going to sit down right here.”
Lewy decided he wanted to get up from his chair. As usual, I waited for him to ask for help. His issues with rigidity were not overtly present. Lewy had just forgotten how to stand up. He rocked back and forth for minutes on end thinking the next rock will propel him upward. When I gave him the walker, he just fliped it back on himself. If I tried to leverage him by holding onto his wrists and leaning backwards, he leaned backwards to prevent me from falling. Needless to say no one managed to go anywhere.
“Daddy…Daddy…..Daddy…look at me. Look at me. Daddy, look at me”. I get a blank stare from Lewy. “Daddy spread your feet apart”. I reach down with my foot and spread his feet so each one is properly aligned with his hips. Lewy looks at the floor.
“Daddy, look at me”. Lewy looks up, but never makes eye contact. “Daddy?” I wave my hands in front of his eyes to get his attention. “Put your hands here on the scaffolding. No, here. Here…I have to pick up both hands and place them in their proper positions on the walker. Lewy dropped his hands to the back side of the scaffolding and started pulling. “No Daddy, put your hands here. You have to get your hands up here for the leverage”.
“I know how to work this thing!” Lewy rattled the scaffolding and jerked it back on himself repeatedly, until he got too tired to do it anymore. I repositioned the walker, took his hands and placed them on the scaffolding for Lewy. “Daddy, lean forward.” Lewy stiff armed the walker pushing it backwards towards me. “No Daddy, bend your arms, then lean forward.” A compound command is often too much for Lewy to deal with. After several tries and me pushing on the inside of his elbow and commanding “bend your arm, bend your arm”, he gets that light bulb going and bends his arms.
“Now lean forward”. No, forward. Lean towards me.”
“But I’ll push you over.”
“No, I’ll be fine. Come on Daddy, lean forward……lean….forward.” Lewy leans backwards. “No Daddy lean towards me”, I say as I grab him by the collar and pull him forward. “Now, push with your legs. PUSH….PUSH"…I feel like I'm a coaching a birth…."Come on Daddy, you have to push up with your legs at the same time as you lean forward.”
Finally after several rockings and explanations why it won’t work and why I’m telling him wrong, he finally gets tired enough to humor me and do it my way. Low and behold, he stands right up. Not a problem.
“See Daddy, if you do it the way I asked you to, it’s easier to stand up.”
“Well! You didn’t explain it clear enough. I didn’t know you wanted me to stand up.”
“You are the one that wanted to stand up!” I forgot I was talking to Lewy.
“So, where are you going?” I asked Lewy.
“I’m going to sit down right here.”
Good Night
Amm..mmmmmm…yeahhhhhhh…….huhhhmmmmmm….huhhh.? One AM here. Pauline just got Lewy to bed in his recliner and in the process woke me up in mine. She kissed us both good night but….NAH NAH NAH… I don’t have to get up in the morning. I have Daddy Duty tomorrow so I get to sleep in. I only had to do it for the afternoon but being the lazy mother-fuh…..….good husband that I am I decided to take the whole day.
Pauline feels that since this is a “Daily diary”, she must write daily. After 30 years I should know better but, I try to explain to her that she should lighten up and not feel such self imposed pressure. She just gives me that “Yes you dear fool” look and sends me on my way. Kenny Rogers got it right but he was talking about the wrong sport. The secret to a long marriage is to know when to hold ‘em and know when to fold ‘em. I folded and she sits here now working on what you will read tomorrow. I know. It’s silly, she should just go to bed and get some sleep. You tell her. Come one……she’s sitting right here. Uh-huh…………………..How long you been married?
1 comments:
oldfriend said...
but ya know ya wont come out on top with Pauline, hubbie! a gals gotta do what...well ya get the drift! Hope your Daddy duty goes off without a hitch.
Pauline feels that since this is a “Daily diary”, she must write daily. After 30 years I should know better but, I try to explain to her that she should lighten up and not feel such self imposed pressure. She just gives me that “Yes you dear fool” look and sends me on my way. Kenny Rogers got it right but he was talking about the wrong sport. The secret to a long marriage is to know when to hold ‘em and know when to fold ‘em. I folded and she sits here now working on what you will read tomorrow. I know. It’s silly, she should just go to bed and get some sleep. You tell her. Come one……she’s sitting right here. Uh-huh…………………..How long you been married?
1 comments:
oldfriend said...
but ya know ya wont come out on top with Pauline, hubbie! a gals gotta do what...well ya get the drift! Hope your Daddy duty goes off without a hitch.
Give Me a Hug
Lewy recently developed some pressure sores on the outside of his heels when he suddenly took to staying in bed all day. He can no longer roll himself over and with his artificial knees he can’t really twist his legs or rotate his ankles very well. We tried rolling towels up and placing them under his legs to relieve the pressure on his feet, but invariably, Lewy would knock the towels off the bed and end up with his feet splayed out on the mattress, where they were bearing right on his sores.
Now we have a Home Health Service coming out 3 days a week to dress and clean Lewy’s bed sores. So far there have been two different ladies that have tended to his feet.
The first – I’m not sure of her actual title, but a Nurses Tech, I think came out and cleaned Lewy’s sores where they had collected dirt from me insisting that he not wear shoes or socks to in order to get some air to the sores. I had never seen a pressure sore before. The large black area around where the skin broke apart was pretty bad looking to me, but the nurses both assured me that it would be fine.
The second time the 20 something year old Nurse’s Tech came out Lewy was awake enough to say hi to her. What she didn’t know is that Lewy was and is still a dirty old man. She leaned over to say hi and look him in the eyes. He did his most pitiful hold the arms up for a hug routine.
I’ve seen this before…This is Daddy, not Lewy. I’m not sure Lewy could manage it, but Daddy – absolutely.
He raised his poor frail arms up in that pitiful brown eyed puppy look he can get and gave the NT his very best “give me a hug” con. She took the bait. “Oh you want a hug? Well I’ll hug you”. Oh yeah, he’s got her now.
She leaned over and put her arms around him as much as she could with him flat on his back. Daddy let his arms drop (around her - of course) forcing her down further than she had planned; and gave her a great big smooch.
She jumped up and squealed. Daddy was grinning and snickering. He was quite proud of that accomplishment. The NT leaned over him to playfully admonish him. As she was wagging her finger at him, he was reaching around to grab her butt.
Got Her!
She jumped and squealed again; then turned and looked at me like I could do something. Nope! He’s been like this all my life.
Again she admonishes him, and he gives her that innocent “What did I do?” face. Then looks at me and grins.
The NT got her supplies together and started working on Daddy’s feet. Within seconds he was staring at the ceiling completely oblivious to her pulling off the dead skin. He didn’t even respond when she leaned over to say goodbye.
Lewy was back.
Thanks for stopping by Daddy. It was good to see you again.
Now we have a Home Health Service coming out 3 days a week to dress and clean Lewy’s bed sores. So far there have been two different ladies that have tended to his feet.
The first – I’m not sure of her actual title, but a Nurses Tech, I think came out and cleaned Lewy’s sores where they had collected dirt from me insisting that he not wear shoes or socks to in order to get some air to the sores. I had never seen a pressure sore before. The large black area around where the skin broke apart was pretty bad looking to me, but the nurses both assured me that it would be fine.
The second time the 20 something year old Nurse’s Tech came out Lewy was awake enough to say hi to her. What she didn’t know is that Lewy was and is still a dirty old man. She leaned over to say hi and look him in the eyes. He did his most pitiful hold the arms up for a hug routine.
I’ve seen this before…This is Daddy, not Lewy. I’m not sure Lewy could manage it, but Daddy – absolutely.
He raised his poor frail arms up in that pitiful brown eyed puppy look he can get and gave the NT his very best “give me a hug” con. She took the bait. “Oh you want a hug? Well I’ll hug you”. Oh yeah, he’s got her now.
She leaned over and put her arms around him as much as she could with him flat on his back. Daddy let his arms drop (around her - of course) forcing her down further than she had planned; and gave her a great big smooch.
She jumped up and squealed. Daddy was grinning and snickering. He was quite proud of that accomplishment. The NT leaned over him to playfully admonish him. As she was wagging her finger at him, he was reaching around to grab her butt.
Got Her!
She jumped and squealed again; then turned and looked at me like I could do something. Nope! He’s been like this all my life.
Again she admonishes him, and he gives her that innocent “What did I do?” face. Then looks at me and grins.
The NT got her supplies together and started working on Daddy’s feet. Within seconds he was staring at the ceiling completely oblivious to her pulling off the dead skin. He didn’t even respond when she leaned over to say goodbye.
Lewy was back.
Thanks for stopping by Daddy. It was good to see you again.
Good Night Lewy
Today started out as bad as they come. Let’s just say I had a falling out with an old friend. I’ve been in a mood all day.
Things like this stress me terribly; I get my back all in a twitch, lock up my TMJ jaws, and most importantly, I have to sulk about 12 -13 hours. Needless to say, as soon as Lewy was down for the night, I ran out to jump in the hot tub.
Oh wonderful, wonderful…(who was that? Johnny Mathis?) Anyway, it is the best thing that I have found for getting rid of those back twitches.
After an hour of sitting out in the cold in 102 degree water, I come in to find Lewy making some noises. I tip toe over to him, because I’d hate to wake him if he’s just sleep talking. Lewy is wide eyed looking right at me.
“Uuunmunmmunm”
“Say that again”
“Unummunummnumnn”
At this point you have to decide if you are going to engage in Lewy conversation or try to make sense of it…….He doesn’t seem uncomfortable….Lewy talk.
“Yes, of course”
“Uunumnumn…mnunum.. numnum” Lewy is staring right into my eyes, following my movements.
“I guess so”
“Unumunumumn”
“Well, OK Daddy, what ever you think….OK?….well good night”
“Good night!!”
Things like this stress me terribly; I get my back all in a twitch, lock up my TMJ jaws, and most importantly, I have to sulk about 12 -13 hours. Needless to say, as soon as Lewy was down for the night, I ran out to jump in the hot tub.
Oh wonderful, wonderful…(who was that? Johnny Mathis?) Anyway, it is the best thing that I have found for getting rid of those back twitches.
After an hour of sitting out in the cold in 102 degree water, I come in to find Lewy making some noises. I tip toe over to him, because I’d hate to wake him if he’s just sleep talking. Lewy is wide eyed looking right at me.
“Uuunmunmmunm”
“Say that again”
“Unummunummnumnn”
At this point you have to decide if you are going to engage in Lewy conversation or try to make sense of it…….He doesn’t seem uncomfortable….Lewy talk.
“Yes, of course”
“Uunumnumn…mnunum.. numnum” Lewy is staring right into my eyes, following my movements.
“I guess so”
“Unumunumumn”
“Well, OK Daddy, what ever you think….OK?….well good night”
“Good night!!”
How Do You Turn This Thing On?
After this evening’s dinner we rolled Lewy into the living room to settle him back down in his recliner. Getting him up out of the wheelchair was particularly hard and getting him to rotate the required 90 degrees to position his butt over the recliner was even harder. But we managed to get Lewy in his chair without incident.
Now that Lewy was settled Hubbie and I went back in the kitchen to clean up the dishes and put away the leftovers. We had gotten about half way through this ritual when I noticed Lewy was standing up in the middle of the living room.
“Where you going Daddy?’
“To the bathroom”.
I took the opportunity to leave the kitchen duties to Hubbie by going to get Lewy his walker. He took hold of it, indicated he was OK, and began to head towards the bathroom. I went back to the kitchen. Several minutes later, I noticed that Lewy had not gotten any farther than when I left him. I went over to check on him. He said he was seeing things.
“What sort of things?” I’m wondering what could be so strange that Lewy would recognize it as a hallucination.
“I’m dizzy”.
Hubbie came running over with the wheelchair. We got Lewy to sit. I wheeled him to the bathroom door…as far as the chair will go…put his walker in the room in front of him, turned 90 degrees from normal, just the way Lewy likes it. I told him to sit there until he felt better, then he could get up to go to the bathroom. I went to my recliner, sat down and had a pooch, the long haired mutt named Tweak, in my lap within seconds.
Tweak was just getting good and stretched out from a belly rubbing when I heard Lewy say something from the bathroom. I made Tweak get down - nothing she was too happy about. I went see what was going on. Lewy was standing in the same place just inside the bathroom with his pants pulled down around his knees.
“What’s going on Daddy?”
“How do you turn this thing on?”
“What thing?”
“This walker. Where do you turn it on?”
At this point I notice that Lewy’s teeth are in the sink, and he had poured out the water in his tooth cup, and was holding the cup in his hand.
I reached for the tooth cup. Lewy jerked it back saying he was going to use it. “Oh no! You’re not…You are not peeing in your tooth cup.”
“Well where’s my cup? Over there by the commode, Lewy.”
“Oh, OK”….He started shaking the walker. “Where do you turn this thing on?”
“You don’t turn it on. It operates manually.”
“Where’s the faucet on it?”
At some point, usually later than it should be…I have to realize I am not talking to Daddy, but to Lewy.
“The faucet is over there by the toilet.”
“How do you turn this thing on?”
“You flip that little thing right there, and that makes it go.”
Lewy reached out and fiddled with the lever that makes the walker fold up for a minute or two, then said “Oh I see”.
He then “started” the walker and made it over to the toilet and back out in record time carrying the walker about 6 inches above the floor, out in front of him. “This works better this way.”
“Yes….apparently it does. Have a seat Daddy. Let me get your pills.”
“Where do you want me to park this?’
“How ‘bout I put it in the garage for you? Come on…have a seat.
4 Comments:
Stella said...
I was asked recently to drive my loved ones bed. When I told him I didn't know how, he said that I used to drive it. I told him I am too old now. He reminded me [correctly] that I am 85 years old so I didn't need to try. He thought we would just leave it where it is and let's sleep in the woods tonight. With that he turned over and went to sleep.
Ann Jones said...
I need help.... my mother is 64 and has just been diagnosed with multi - infarct dementia with Lewy body .... Is that worse than regular lewy body ????She has been sectioned for the last 10 weeks in a psych unit because she was mis diagnosed and given Serequel , Respiradol, Diazipan ,ect...These are the devils drugs when you have dementia .....We are finding it diffuclt to get straight answers ...she has been very confused but this weekend she has started having hallucinations , seeing dead people ect.... is this significant ?? an mri scan has shwn she has had 2 strokes and a heart attack ....how long is the average life expectancy ???I hate this illness , it has robbed me of my mother .... she is gone but still here ... i miss her
Pauline said...
Ann,
I really cannot answer your question about the multi-infarct dementia. I've never heard of it. My personal opinion is a psych unit is not where a person with LDB needs to be. I have found that telling my Dad when things he sees are hallucinations helps. In a psych unit, your mother is just going to be ignored. I do think that an open ward Ahlzhiemers (sp?) unit is appropriate for late stage LBD once they get so far gone they do not know you.
More likely your Mom will slowly decline from the LBD. The other factors no doubt will speed up that process. LBD is as best I can tell an 8-10 year process. We are in year 7 at least.
I wish I could answer your questions. But LBD is a bit of a mystery.
pearose said...
Multi-infarct dementia is typically damage from strokes. When the stroke occurs, brain matter dies. Unlike other types of dementia, there aren't steps leading into the decline - it is an immediate change. Lewy Body Dementia and Alzheimer's type dementia have a long decline that can occur over quite a few years and the family loses them several times over because of the person's lack of ability to recognize their own family. However, as Pauline has written about, there are windows of time when the person is totally aware - but those times become fewer and farther between.
Now that Lewy was settled Hubbie and I went back in the kitchen to clean up the dishes and put away the leftovers. We had gotten about half way through this ritual when I noticed Lewy was standing up in the middle of the living room.
“Where you going Daddy?’
“To the bathroom”.
I took the opportunity to leave the kitchen duties to Hubbie by going to get Lewy his walker. He took hold of it, indicated he was OK, and began to head towards the bathroom. I went back to the kitchen. Several minutes later, I noticed that Lewy had not gotten any farther than when I left him. I went over to check on him. He said he was seeing things.
“What sort of things?” I’m wondering what could be so strange that Lewy would recognize it as a hallucination.
“I’m dizzy”.
Hubbie came running over with the wheelchair. We got Lewy to sit. I wheeled him to the bathroom door…as far as the chair will go…put his walker in the room in front of him, turned 90 degrees from normal, just the way Lewy likes it. I told him to sit there until he felt better, then he could get up to go to the bathroom. I went to my recliner, sat down and had a pooch, the long haired mutt named Tweak, in my lap within seconds.
Tweak was just getting good and stretched out from a belly rubbing when I heard Lewy say something from the bathroom. I made Tweak get down - nothing she was too happy about. I went see what was going on. Lewy was standing in the same place just inside the bathroom with his pants pulled down around his knees.
“What’s going on Daddy?”
“How do you turn this thing on?”
“What thing?”
“This walker. Where do you turn it on?”
At this point I notice that Lewy’s teeth are in the sink, and he had poured out the water in his tooth cup, and was holding the cup in his hand.
I reached for the tooth cup. Lewy jerked it back saying he was going to use it. “Oh no! You’re not…You are not peeing in your tooth cup.”
“Well where’s my cup? Over there by the commode, Lewy.”
“Oh, OK”….He started shaking the walker. “Where do you turn this thing on?”
“You don’t turn it on. It operates manually.”
“Where’s the faucet on it?”
At some point, usually later than it should be…I have to realize I am not talking to Daddy, but to Lewy.
“The faucet is over there by the toilet.”
“How do you turn this thing on?”
“You flip that little thing right there, and that makes it go.”
Lewy reached out and fiddled with the lever that makes the walker fold up for a minute or two, then said “Oh I see”.
He then “started” the walker and made it over to the toilet and back out in record time carrying the walker about 6 inches above the floor, out in front of him. “This works better this way.”
“Yes….apparently it does. Have a seat Daddy. Let me get your pills.”
“Where do you want me to park this?’
“How ‘bout I put it in the garage for you? Come on…have a seat.
4 Comments:
Stella said...
I was asked recently to drive my loved ones bed. When I told him I didn't know how, he said that I used to drive it. I told him I am too old now. He reminded me [correctly] that I am 85 years old so I didn't need to try. He thought we would just leave it where it is and let's sleep in the woods tonight. With that he turned over and went to sleep.
Ann Jones said...
I need help.... my mother is 64 and has just been diagnosed with multi - infarct dementia with Lewy body .... Is that worse than regular lewy body ????She has been sectioned for the last 10 weeks in a psych unit because she was mis diagnosed and given Serequel , Respiradol, Diazipan ,ect...These are the devils drugs when you have dementia .....We are finding it diffuclt to get straight answers ...she has been very confused but this weekend she has started having hallucinations , seeing dead people ect.... is this significant ?? an mri scan has shwn she has had 2 strokes and a heart attack ....how long is the average life expectancy ???I hate this illness , it has robbed me of my mother .... she is gone but still here ... i miss her
Pauline said...
Ann,
I really cannot answer your question about the multi-infarct dementia. I've never heard of it. My personal opinion is a psych unit is not where a person with LDB needs to be. I have found that telling my Dad when things he sees are hallucinations helps. In a psych unit, your mother is just going to be ignored. I do think that an open ward Ahlzhiemers (sp?) unit is appropriate for late stage LBD once they get so far gone they do not know you.
More likely your Mom will slowly decline from the LBD. The other factors no doubt will speed up that process. LBD is as best I can tell an 8-10 year process. We are in year 7 at least.
I wish I could answer your questions. But LBD is a bit of a mystery.
pearose said...
Multi-infarct dementia is typically damage from strokes. When the stroke occurs, brain matter dies. Unlike other types of dementia, there aren't steps leading into the decline - it is an immediate change. Lewy Body Dementia and Alzheimer's type dementia have a long decline that can occur over quite a few years and the family loses them several times over because of the person's lack of ability to recognize their own family. However, as Pauline has written about, there are windows of time when the person is totally aware - but those times become fewer and farther between.
Draft Day
Hubbie here. It’s Saturday and Pauline has gone off to run errands, be political, and get a bit of a break. If you have not had to be the main support for someone in a condition something like Lewy’s, then you have no idea how important even the shortest break can be. If I had to do it for someone not kin to me then one of us would die by my hand. If they were kin to me……..mmm…….I honestly don’t know. It is only a little bit of pressure at a time but the pressure of a small stream of water can, over time, make a bolder disappear. I don’t want to disappear. Do you?
Pauline has told you that I have been a bit under the weather lately. I can’t seem to kick the nighttime hacking cough so for a couple of nights I have slept sitting in my recliner. I say mine because we each have one. Each is green. Each is leather. Each is form fitted to the correct butt after years of compression. Between mine and Pauline’s is a console creating a chair-console-chair unit. The chairs have one arm each, no arm at the console. They have been so form fitted by time that I can’t sit in her chair. I would have to lean the wrong way.
I am sorry to report that, like many folks that spend too much time lying down, Lewy has developed bed sores; basically large blisters on the heels of his feet. The doctor suggested that it might help if Lewy slept in his recliner for a few nights to take the pressure off of the sores so last night Lewy and I slept together for the first time. We propped up our feet and slept soundly in our respective green leather comfort zones. Around seven in the morning I hacked myself awake, cleared my throat, opened my eyes and saw Lewy looking at me. He said he needed to get up so we began the morning ritual. As I held the walker steady so that he could stand, Lewy notified me that I should take care not to be hit by the draft as he stood.
“It’s OK Lewy. I know I’m weak from the flu but I think I can take it.”
Lewy rose and headed to the bathroom, pushing the walker ahead of him in standard Lewy fashion. Standing close by as a safety net, I still managed to avoid the three or four “drafts” that provided him a fair tail wind to propel him on his way.
We arrive at the toilet and despite my repeated suggestion that he “have a seat”, Lewy stood in front of the commode in typical male fashion. Not having any particular urge to witness the expected emissions I departed the scene. After about five minutes I checked on him and Lewy informed me that he was done. It seemed an odd declaration given that the bowl was full of clean water but hey, I’m half past fifty, married and living with Lewy so any day I don’t have to deal with someone else’s bodily fluids is a good day in my book.
Pauline has told you that I have been a bit under the weather lately. I can’t seem to kick the nighttime hacking cough so for a couple of nights I have slept sitting in my recliner. I say mine because we each have one. Each is green. Each is leather. Each is form fitted to the correct butt after years of compression. Between mine and Pauline’s is a console creating a chair-console-chair unit. The chairs have one arm each, no arm at the console. They have been so form fitted by time that I can’t sit in her chair. I would have to lean the wrong way.
I am sorry to report that, like many folks that spend too much time lying down, Lewy has developed bed sores; basically large blisters on the heels of his feet. The doctor suggested that it might help if Lewy slept in his recliner for a few nights to take the pressure off of the sores so last night Lewy and I slept together for the first time. We propped up our feet and slept soundly in our respective green leather comfort zones. Around seven in the morning I hacked myself awake, cleared my throat, opened my eyes and saw Lewy looking at me. He said he needed to get up so we began the morning ritual. As I held the walker steady so that he could stand, Lewy notified me that I should take care not to be hit by the draft as he stood.
“It’s OK Lewy. I know I’m weak from the flu but I think I can take it.”
Lewy rose and headed to the bathroom, pushing the walker ahead of him in standard Lewy fashion. Standing close by as a safety net, I still managed to avoid the three or four “drafts” that provided him a fair tail wind to propel him on his way.
We arrive at the toilet and despite my repeated suggestion that he “have a seat”, Lewy stood in front of the commode in typical male fashion. Not having any particular urge to witness the expected emissions I departed the scene. After about five minutes I checked on him and Lewy informed me that he was done. It seemed an odd declaration given that the bowl was full of clean water but hey, I’m half past fifty, married and living with Lewy so any day I don’t have to deal with someone else’s bodily fluids is a good day in my book.
Let it be Quick
On the evening of Super Tuesday, the weather got a bit rough around here. There were several lines of strong thunderstorms pushing through from the southwest. When it’s 70 degrees in February you know when the cold air comes, the storms are inevitable.
We had had record high temperatures. I had every window in the house open airing the place out. It had been some wonderful weather for the last few days. I even slept two nights with the window open a tad.
BAM!
Tuesday night it was time to pay the Piper for all that good weather.
We had been watching a ball game on TV; not tuned into any local channel. Hubbie was sick with the flu, had taken his large dose of Nyquil and gone to bed. Under normal circumstances Hubbie is a very sound sleeper; with Nyquil he might as well be dead. Telephones can ring right beside him and he won’t wake up.
Lewy decided to go to bed early, so we did the nightly ritual: undress, pee, help in bed, pull up covers, and hope Lewy goes to sleep. That night he did.
It was still very early for me, so I returned to the TV and flipped over to local station to catch the weather. Long red and orange lines of storms were coming in waves moving at about 50 mph. They were a hundred or so miles away, but headed in our direction.
With the rain due to arrive in 10 minutes or so, I leashed up the dogs and took them out for their evening walk. The oldest dog had to be fussed at to get her to go out the door. The overgrown hound-puppy barreled out the door and suddenly stopped.
Both of them had their noses in the air, looking around, obviously very nervous about something. I had to jerk them out to where they “go” and get really scary sounding before either one of them would pee. Finally they both squatted down….as soon as they were done they ran straight back to the front door.
I got them in and just unleashed when the 19 year old cat came to the door wanting out… I let him out. He went about 4 feet in front of the door, sat down, sniffed about, twitched his ears, got up, turned around and wanted back in.
This does not bode well. Critters seem to always know when something isn’t right.
The TV is nothing but wall to wall storm coverage. There are two large storm cells coming our way, but from the storm tracker I can tell they will slide just to the north and to the south of us. They did as I had expected. We got a lot of lightening, wind and rain.
It was getting late, I had gone and piddled with the computer for a while, got up and came through the living room ready to turn off the TV and go to bed. The weather lady was talking about a particular cell that was very strong, multiple possible tornados…all those big hook echoes…and the centerline of the storm track was right on the dot for our tiny little town. This didn’t look good. At this point, the storm was 20 minutes away.
What do you do? They are saying there are actual sightings from trained spotters…there are several showing up on radar…they are coming right at us. I have Lewy, who I couldn’t get up and dressed in 20 minutes, much less take cover. Hubbie is in Nyquil land….
There comes a point where self preservation comes to your mind. I could get in the car and drive straight south for 20 minutes, turn around and come back……Having time to think in a crisis is not necessarily a good thing. There’s really no telling what you might think about.
I decided my only choice was to ride it out. Probably not the smartest decision I ever made. Being in a mobile home under a tornado is not highly recommended in the Owner’s Manual.
The TV zoomed in on the storm. Getting stronger. There’s a section of the radar that’s black where it’s coming down so hard. The hook is getting more pronounced; and it is heading directly for us - less than 10 minutes away.
The wind started howling and hail was coming in waves over the house. It was getting down right loud. I looked out the window. It was raining so hard that when the lightening flashed, I could not see my greenhouse no more than 20 feet away.
I went back to the living room to see the radar. They zoomed in on the storm. There were 4-5 of the tornado markers stacked up in a line, one right after the other. The tornados were coming across roads that are right to our southwest. The TV in the living room went out. (We live out in the woods, so we have a satellite dish. Satellite dishes do not take kindly to storms.)
I trotted into the bathroom where we have a TV wired with a local antenna. Both dogs and the cat were right there with me. The TV came on and they were zoomed in on the storm cells. Then the weather lady zoomed in close enough to see the streets…there we were…. These storms were right on top of us. OMG! All I can do is stare at the TV!
Just then they broke away to another set of storms just coming into the area. HOLY CRAP!
The house was shaking. The dogs were shaking. I was shaking. The cat was yowling. The TV said if you are in a mobile home get out, go get in a ditch. Yeah right. I’m gonna get out of my house where I might be fine and go out into this storm where I know I’m gong to get my ass killed. Yeah that’s a plan. I think I’ll go get Lewy…
BOOM! Lightening. The sound was there before the light was gone. Then another strike and another. Lightening was coming down all around us.
Hail was pounding down on the roof. It was getting so loud I could no longer hear the TV. The house shook. Then the freight train came and rumbled over the house. The dogs were leaning on me whimpering…..I knew exactly how they felt. I whimpered too.
The worst part of the storm lasted just a few minutes then it settled into just a bad storm that lasted all night.
We have lived in this particular spot for 30 years. In that time we have convinced ourselves that the hills behind us protects us from the storms that come from the southwest and west. Once again the storms ripped through our neighbors to the southwest, jumped over us and landed to the northwest of us a few miles away.
As of today, there are still people missing. The search and rescue teams found more dead.
Truth is I don’t think there is anything I could do with Lewy in such as case, but hunker down the best we can, and hope for one more round of good fortune.
But if our time is up, let it be quick.
3 comments:
Stella said...
I am so relieved that you are safe. It was a terrible night for you. You were so brave and I'm sure you must have felt the presence of God in the midst of such danger. I held my breath as I read your story.
Anonymous said...
Pauline,
I loved reading your accounts of the storm and "Living with Lewy Body". A difficult question what to do with a loved one who is so difficult to move. Makes me think of the husband and wife that owned the nursing home in New Orleans and were prosecutd for all those that died when they decided to wait out the storm. And whose to say there wouldn't have been greater fatalities if they had tried to move those patients. None of us can predict the future. I was glad to hear that the inditment was dropped last year.
My critter too was behaving very strangely when the storms were headed toward Nashville at 9:00 pm that evening. She doesn't usually do that but was actually wimpering which caused us to pack up the Red Cross survival kit, jewelry and cell phone and head toward the basement. The tornadoes seemed to skip over Nashvill the same way they skipped over your mobile home.
We must be living right as our angels are definitely working overtime.
Harold said...
I almost called you Tuesday night, but thought better of it b/c I knew it would do no good and might wake Lewy. I saw the storms right on top of you on the radar. Hate that you were virtually alone. I was too, but my situation was less scary. Glad ya'll made it.
We had had record high temperatures. I had every window in the house open airing the place out. It had been some wonderful weather for the last few days. I even slept two nights with the window open a tad.
BAM!
Tuesday night it was time to pay the Piper for all that good weather.
We had been watching a ball game on TV; not tuned into any local channel. Hubbie was sick with the flu, had taken his large dose of Nyquil and gone to bed. Under normal circumstances Hubbie is a very sound sleeper; with Nyquil he might as well be dead. Telephones can ring right beside him and he won’t wake up.
Lewy decided to go to bed early, so we did the nightly ritual: undress, pee, help in bed, pull up covers, and hope Lewy goes to sleep. That night he did.
It was still very early for me, so I returned to the TV and flipped over to local station to catch the weather. Long red and orange lines of storms were coming in waves moving at about 50 mph. They were a hundred or so miles away, but headed in our direction.
With the rain due to arrive in 10 minutes or so, I leashed up the dogs and took them out for their evening walk. The oldest dog had to be fussed at to get her to go out the door. The overgrown hound-puppy barreled out the door and suddenly stopped.
Both of them had their noses in the air, looking around, obviously very nervous about something. I had to jerk them out to where they “go” and get really scary sounding before either one of them would pee. Finally they both squatted down….as soon as they were done they ran straight back to the front door.
I got them in and just unleashed when the 19 year old cat came to the door wanting out… I let him out. He went about 4 feet in front of the door, sat down, sniffed about, twitched his ears, got up, turned around and wanted back in.
This does not bode well. Critters seem to always know when something isn’t right.
The TV is nothing but wall to wall storm coverage. There are two large storm cells coming our way, but from the storm tracker I can tell they will slide just to the north and to the south of us. They did as I had expected. We got a lot of lightening, wind and rain.
It was getting late, I had gone and piddled with the computer for a while, got up and came through the living room ready to turn off the TV and go to bed. The weather lady was talking about a particular cell that was very strong, multiple possible tornados…all those big hook echoes…and the centerline of the storm track was right on the dot for our tiny little town. This didn’t look good. At this point, the storm was 20 minutes away.
What do you do? They are saying there are actual sightings from trained spotters…there are several showing up on radar…they are coming right at us. I have Lewy, who I couldn’t get up and dressed in 20 minutes, much less take cover. Hubbie is in Nyquil land….
There comes a point where self preservation comes to your mind. I could get in the car and drive straight south for 20 minutes, turn around and come back……Having time to think in a crisis is not necessarily a good thing. There’s really no telling what you might think about.
I decided my only choice was to ride it out. Probably not the smartest decision I ever made. Being in a mobile home under a tornado is not highly recommended in the Owner’s Manual.
The TV zoomed in on the storm. Getting stronger. There’s a section of the radar that’s black where it’s coming down so hard. The hook is getting more pronounced; and it is heading directly for us - less than 10 minutes away.
The wind started howling and hail was coming in waves over the house. It was getting down right loud. I looked out the window. It was raining so hard that when the lightening flashed, I could not see my greenhouse no more than 20 feet away.
I went back to the living room to see the radar. They zoomed in on the storm. There were 4-5 of the tornado markers stacked up in a line, one right after the other. The tornados were coming across roads that are right to our southwest. The TV in the living room went out. (We live out in the woods, so we have a satellite dish. Satellite dishes do not take kindly to storms.)
I trotted into the bathroom where we have a TV wired with a local antenna. Both dogs and the cat were right there with me. The TV came on and they were zoomed in on the storm cells. Then the weather lady zoomed in close enough to see the streets…there we were…. These storms were right on top of us. OMG! All I can do is stare at the TV!
Just then they broke away to another set of storms just coming into the area. HOLY CRAP!
The house was shaking. The dogs were shaking. I was shaking. The cat was yowling. The TV said if you are in a mobile home get out, go get in a ditch. Yeah right. I’m gonna get out of my house where I might be fine and go out into this storm where I know I’m gong to get my ass killed. Yeah that’s a plan. I think I’ll go get Lewy…
BOOM! Lightening. The sound was there before the light was gone. Then another strike and another. Lightening was coming down all around us.
Hail was pounding down on the roof. It was getting so loud I could no longer hear the TV. The house shook. Then the freight train came and rumbled over the house. The dogs were leaning on me whimpering…..I knew exactly how they felt. I whimpered too.
The worst part of the storm lasted just a few minutes then it settled into just a bad storm that lasted all night.
We have lived in this particular spot for 30 years. In that time we have convinced ourselves that the hills behind us protects us from the storms that come from the southwest and west. Once again the storms ripped through our neighbors to the southwest, jumped over us and landed to the northwest of us a few miles away.
As of today, there are still people missing. The search and rescue teams found more dead.
Truth is I don’t think there is anything I could do with Lewy in such as case, but hunker down the best we can, and hope for one more round of good fortune.
But if our time is up, let it be quick.
3 comments:
Stella said...
I am so relieved that you are safe. It was a terrible night for you. You were so brave and I'm sure you must have felt the presence of God in the midst of such danger. I held my breath as I read your story.
Anonymous said...
Pauline,
I loved reading your accounts of the storm and "Living with Lewy Body". A difficult question what to do with a loved one who is so difficult to move. Makes me think of the husband and wife that owned the nursing home in New Orleans and were prosecutd for all those that died when they decided to wait out the storm. And whose to say there wouldn't have been greater fatalities if they had tried to move those patients. None of us can predict the future. I was glad to hear that the inditment was dropped last year.
My critter too was behaving very strangely when the storms were headed toward Nashville at 9:00 pm that evening. She doesn't usually do that but was actually wimpering which caused us to pack up the Red Cross survival kit, jewelry and cell phone and head toward the basement. The tornadoes seemed to skip over Nashvill the same way they skipped over your mobile home.
We must be living right as our angels are definitely working overtime.
Harold said...
I almost called you Tuesday night, but thought better of it b/c I knew it would do no good and might wake Lewy. I saw the storms right on top of you on the radar. Hate that you were virtually alone. I was too, but my situation was less scary. Glad ya'll made it.
Lewy's Thoughts on how to Turn on the TV
"You put it up on it's wheels and spin it around until it comes on."
Happy Birthday Lewy
It’s a terrible thing when you forget your Father’s 84th birthday. But sure enough, that’s what I did. In my defense, it happened on a Sunday, and that was one of those recently that I had to go into the office to work on a project that was going out whether we were done with it or not. Needless to say, my mind was not on Lewy’s birthday.
Lewy’s favorite thing in the world, as far as I know was Momma’s homemade coconut cream pie. I must say, it was yummy. With this in mind before the big day, I had gone to the grocery and gotten the coconut, and no way am I doing a pie crust, so I purchased a graham cracker crust.
Lewy’s birthday came and went. I realized two days later, when it was Hubbie’s birthday, that I had managed to forget about them both. Good job there, Pauline.
As far as Lewy was concerned there was no realization that the day had passed. He is never sure what season or year it is much less a specific day. Therefore, I saw no reason to apologize; I just waited for the project to be issued, when I could then take the time to make Lewy’s pie.
I got out my Mother’s cookbook, one she had gotten from an older lady when she and Daddy got married and bought their first house. This cookbook is so old it tells you how to select a good live bird, kill it, clean it, and only then cook it. No canned anything in there.
So while Lewy slept I got out the double boiler and started making Lewy’s pie. As with any cream pie, it needs to be refrigerated for a while to set up properly. In the fridge it went.
That evening Lewy woke up for his suppertime meal. I got him his pills and a drink, and settled him in at the kitchen counter.
I went to the fridge and pulled out Lewy’s homemade coconut cream pie and set it down in front of him.
It could not have been better than to see Lewy’s eyes light up. He may not know where he is, but he sure knows pie. Think of Homer Simpson…..uuuummm pie…..Although I did have the fear that it would become as Homer says “Floor pie” because Lewy gets such a grip on everything. By holding on the one side of the pie, I managed to keep it on the counter rather than in Lewy’s lap.
Lewy the night before had trouble holding his spoon and getting it anywhere near his mouth. It was similar to watching a falling down drunk try to touch his nose. Not even close…..so for the first time, I fed Lewy his supper…..That was yesterday.
Today, Lewy grabbed that pie with his left hand and the table spoon with his right and started shoveling. He cored out the center of the pie, taking enormous bites that would choke most people. I just held onto the pie plate….
Lewy ate the full 10 inch pie. I never said “Happy Birthday”. I guess because making the pie, and watching him enjoy it so much, did me more good than it did him. I have not seen Lewy enjoy anything so much in years…. maybe since the last time Momma made coconut cream pie.
I know I’ve never enjoyed a pie so much… Even without taking a single bite.
No doubt, Lewy is going to have another “birthday” real soon.
5 comments:
Stella said...
And another Happy Birthday to Lewy from Louisiana. Yes, I'm sure you will be making more pie.
Pauline said...
Thanks Stella.
Louisiana.... Geaux Tigers! Momma was from LA. From Bastrop, Bonita, Monroe, Turkey Trot area. Some of the best cooks and pie eaters in the world down there.
oldfriend said...
I'm with Lewy, coconut cream pie is the best thing this side of ..well you know! HB,Lewy.
Daffy said...
I'm delighted to find your blog!!! Exactly what so many of us need. A place to really tell it like it is and know you all understand.I am caregiver to nearly 92 yr old Daddy with early to mid stage ALZ and my 75 yr old hubby with Lewy. Horrible hallucinations and paranoia. These "people" are everywhere and steal his stuff. He mumbles-his tongue doesn't enunciate so there's a lot of yelling back and forth. I will come back and tell you my tales when I have more time. Thanks for being here. Gayle-in-the Boonies
Pauline said...
Bless your heart "Daffy/ Gale in the Boonies". I cannot imagine having two LOs to care for! You are welcome to write here about it anytime. Click on "Contact Us" we will get the message...
Lewy’s favorite thing in the world, as far as I know was Momma’s homemade coconut cream pie. I must say, it was yummy. With this in mind before the big day, I had gone to the grocery and gotten the coconut, and no way am I doing a pie crust, so I purchased a graham cracker crust.
Lewy’s birthday came and went. I realized two days later, when it was Hubbie’s birthday, that I had managed to forget about them both. Good job there, Pauline.
As far as Lewy was concerned there was no realization that the day had passed. He is never sure what season or year it is much less a specific day. Therefore, I saw no reason to apologize; I just waited for the project to be issued, when I could then take the time to make Lewy’s pie.
I got out my Mother’s cookbook, one she had gotten from an older lady when she and Daddy got married and bought their first house. This cookbook is so old it tells you how to select a good live bird, kill it, clean it, and only then cook it. No canned anything in there.
So while Lewy slept I got out the double boiler and started making Lewy’s pie. As with any cream pie, it needs to be refrigerated for a while to set up properly. In the fridge it went.
That evening Lewy woke up for his suppertime meal. I got him his pills and a drink, and settled him in at the kitchen counter.
I went to the fridge and pulled out Lewy’s homemade coconut cream pie and set it down in front of him.
It could not have been better than to see Lewy’s eyes light up. He may not know where he is, but he sure knows pie. Think of Homer Simpson…..uuuummm pie…..Although I did have the fear that it would become as Homer says “Floor pie” because Lewy gets such a grip on everything. By holding on the one side of the pie, I managed to keep it on the counter rather than in Lewy’s lap.
Lewy the night before had trouble holding his spoon and getting it anywhere near his mouth. It was similar to watching a falling down drunk try to touch his nose. Not even close…..so for the first time, I fed Lewy his supper…..That was yesterday.
Today, Lewy grabbed that pie with his left hand and the table spoon with his right and started shoveling. He cored out the center of the pie, taking enormous bites that would choke most people. I just held onto the pie plate….
Lewy ate the full 10 inch pie. I never said “Happy Birthday”. I guess because making the pie, and watching him enjoy it so much, did me more good than it did him. I have not seen Lewy enjoy anything so much in years…. maybe since the last time Momma made coconut cream pie.
I know I’ve never enjoyed a pie so much… Even without taking a single bite.
No doubt, Lewy is going to have another “birthday” real soon.
5 comments:
Stella said...
And another Happy Birthday to Lewy from Louisiana. Yes, I'm sure you will be making more pie.
Pauline said...
Thanks Stella.
Louisiana.... Geaux Tigers! Momma was from LA. From Bastrop, Bonita, Monroe, Turkey Trot area. Some of the best cooks and pie eaters in the world down there.
oldfriend said...
I'm with Lewy, coconut cream pie is the best thing this side of ..well you know! HB,Lewy.
Daffy said...
I'm delighted to find your blog!!! Exactly what so many of us need. A place to really tell it like it is and know you all understand.I am caregiver to nearly 92 yr old Daddy with early to mid stage ALZ and my 75 yr old hubby with Lewy. Horrible hallucinations and paranoia. These "people" are everywhere and steal his stuff. He mumbles-his tongue doesn't enunciate so there's a lot of yelling back and forth. I will come back and tell you my tales when I have more time. Thanks for being here. Gayle-in-the Boonies
Pauline said...
Bless your heart "Daffy/ Gale in the Boonies". I cannot imagine having two LOs to care for! You are welcome to write here about it anytime. Click on "Contact Us" we will get the message...
Do Great Things Lewy
Several months ago, maybe as ling as a year ago, when I turned to the Internet to read up on LBD, I ran across the Harvard Brain Tissue Resource Center. I’m not sure how I arrived there but at the web site discussed LBD and the need for brain donations of people who had been diagnosed with Lewy Body Dementia, Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s disease.
So I filled out their forms figuring if nothing else, Lewy’s suffering might help someone else. So much time elapsed I had completely forgotten about it until a couple of days ago a packet arrived from Harvard with the initial round of paperwork.
Reading the material now that Lewy is going down pretty fast was a shock to my system. Before, it was far enough away I didn’t have to think about what it all meant. But now, here it is…and there Lewy is, lost in his own little world for most of the day.
I filled out the forms, sealed up the postage paid return enveloped and sent it on its way.
Now I have to inform his doctor that we wish to make this donation and get everything lined up and in place before….well before…you know. I just can’t even write it down. Even with Lewy’s suffering, I am not yet prepared to loose him. He dies a little more each day, ever so slowly, and ever so surely.
I guess I’m telling you this because perhaps you might want to do the same thing. They need brains, sick ones and healthy ones.
But mostly I’m telling you because, my Dad, Lewy, who never had a chance at a real education is going to get to go to Harvard.
Do great things at Harvard Lewy. Give them the secrets you hold in your head.
Harvard Brain Tissue Resource Center
So I filled out their forms figuring if nothing else, Lewy’s suffering might help someone else. So much time elapsed I had completely forgotten about it until a couple of days ago a packet arrived from Harvard with the initial round of paperwork.
Reading the material now that Lewy is going down pretty fast was a shock to my system. Before, it was far enough away I didn’t have to think about what it all meant. But now, here it is…and there Lewy is, lost in his own little world for most of the day.
I filled out the forms, sealed up the postage paid return enveloped and sent it on its way.
Now I have to inform his doctor that we wish to make this donation and get everything lined up and in place before….well before…you know. I just can’t even write it down. Even with Lewy’s suffering, I am not yet prepared to loose him. He dies a little more each day, ever so slowly, and ever so surely.
I guess I’m telling you this because perhaps you might want to do the same thing. They need brains, sick ones and healthy ones.
But mostly I’m telling you because, my Dad, Lewy, who never had a chance at a real education is going to get to go to Harvard.
Do great things at Harvard Lewy. Give them the secrets you hold in your head.
Harvard Brain Tissue Resource Center
Good Daughter that I Am
There are just some things you don’t want to know. So I’m about to tell you anyway. Warning! This is pretty disgusting.
Today started out like most other days. Only Lewy seemed to be a bit more lucid than normal, and was walking better. It was looking like a very good day, actually.
Lewy had peed all over himself during the night, so I told him to go into the bathroom and I would sponge him down. The phone rang, always at a bad time, but I work out of the house so I can stay with Lewy. When the office calls I have to take the call. Anyway, I’m on the phone, and I hear Lewy in the bathroom.
Flush! Oh, now that’s unusual, but a good unusual. I was still on the phone and looking at some office stuff on the computer, so I couldn’t really get up and go peek. Next I heard the shower running, the bathroom door close, then I heard Lewy open the shower curtain, and a few minutes later, I heard the shower curtain get pulled back. WOW! I had given up on Lewy ever showering by himself again. This was great. Lewy was doing his own bathing. The shower ran a normal length of time, Lewy turned it off and the next thing I knew Lewy was dripping wet standing there buck naked in the hall…..Finally…off the phone.
I get up to help Lewy dry off. He seems to have forgotten what towels are for. As I towel him down I look into the bathroom, and everything is looking just fine. Very good Lewy! You took your shower without help.
“Very good Daddy, you did that without help and (I sniffed) apparently did a pretty good job of it.” I got him in his clothes and told him I’d meet him in the kitchen. In the mean time I went to the kitchen, set out his pills, and poured him a cup of coffee. Some time back I learned, slow as I am, to not put coffee in a real cup, instead he has a couple of plastic insulated mugs that I give him now. Lewy has a tendency to fall asleep with his cup of coffee in his hand and drop it on the floor. Another good reason to go in and pour it early while he’s still getting out of the bedroom and heading to the kitchen, is to let it cool before it hits his lap.
Lewy was making his way toward the kitchen while I went back into my office to check my email. I heard Lewy arrive in the kitchen and sit down. Unfortunately, I did not get up to go check on him. Why should I? Everything sounded alright and he was doing very well this morning.
After a few minutes I heard the plastic cup drop….I should have been in there. Damn it, now I have the mess to clean up.
When I arrive in the kitchen, Lewy is standing up with coffee and oh….he had gotten himself some peanut butter cookies and had been dunking them leaving a huge mess of cookie/coffee residue all over him, the counter, all down the face of the counter and of course the floor.
Being the good daughter that I am….I started to clean up the mess….. And then I saw it……OMG! …..OH NO!…… I’m going to be sick, there’s just nothing left to do but run away gagging…….
While I was “being a good daughter” and not paying attention, Lewy had removed the plastic cup I keep beside his bed for him to pee or spit up into during the night if he needs to, and had brought it into the kitchen……..poured his coffee into the plastic pee cup, and had been drinking and eating his cookies out of it.
Yes, it had been used during the night, and no, I had not emptied it yet.
I’m outta here. I gotta go throw up now.
Today started out like most other days. Only Lewy seemed to be a bit more lucid than normal, and was walking better. It was looking like a very good day, actually.
Lewy had peed all over himself during the night, so I told him to go into the bathroom and I would sponge him down. The phone rang, always at a bad time, but I work out of the house so I can stay with Lewy. When the office calls I have to take the call. Anyway, I’m on the phone, and I hear Lewy in the bathroom.
Flush! Oh, now that’s unusual, but a good unusual. I was still on the phone and looking at some office stuff on the computer, so I couldn’t really get up and go peek. Next I heard the shower running, the bathroom door close, then I heard Lewy open the shower curtain, and a few minutes later, I heard the shower curtain get pulled back. WOW! I had given up on Lewy ever showering by himself again. This was great. Lewy was doing his own bathing. The shower ran a normal length of time, Lewy turned it off and the next thing I knew Lewy was dripping wet standing there buck naked in the hall…..Finally…off the phone.
I get up to help Lewy dry off. He seems to have forgotten what towels are for. As I towel him down I look into the bathroom, and everything is looking just fine. Very good Lewy! You took your shower without help.
“Very good Daddy, you did that without help and (I sniffed) apparently did a pretty good job of it.” I got him in his clothes and told him I’d meet him in the kitchen. In the mean time I went to the kitchen, set out his pills, and poured him a cup of coffee. Some time back I learned, slow as I am, to not put coffee in a real cup, instead he has a couple of plastic insulated mugs that I give him now. Lewy has a tendency to fall asleep with his cup of coffee in his hand and drop it on the floor. Another good reason to go in and pour it early while he’s still getting out of the bedroom and heading to the kitchen, is to let it cool before it hits his lap.
Lewy was making his way toward the kitchen while I went back into my office to check my email. I heard Lewy arrive in the kitchen and sit down. Unfortunately, I did not get up to go check on him. Why should I? Everything sounded alright and he was doing very well this morning.
After a few minutes I heard the plastic cup drop….I should have been in there. Damn it, now I have the mess to clean up.
When I arrive in the kitchen, Lewy is standing up with coffee and oh….he had gotten himself some peanut butter cookies and had been dunking them leaving a huge mess of cookie/coffee residue all over him, the counter, all down the face of the counter and of course the floor.
Being the good daughter that I am….I started to clean up the mess….. And then I saw it……OMG! …..OH NO!…… I’m going to be sick, there’s just nothing left to do but run away gagging…….
While I was “being a good daughter” and not paying attention, Lewy had removed the plastic cup I keep beside his bed for him to pee or spit up into during the night if he needs to, and had brought it into the kitchen……..poured his coffee into the plastic pee cup, and had been drinking and eating his cookies out of it.
Yes, it had been used during the night, and no, I had not emptied it yet.
I’m outta here. I gotta go throw up now.
Lewy Potter and the Perpetual Motion Machine
Hi there. Hubbie here again. It’s Saturday but Pauline has a deadline so she had to go to the office. That means I have Daddy Duty. Not too bad today. The bed clothes are in the washer and Lewy has had his breakfast and is sleeping in his recliner. Yesterday Lewy had a pretty good day but after dinner he needed to toilet and was not doing so well walking with his cane. I got his walker for him and with that he made the trip pretty well. The odd part was that rather than using a walker in the normal fashion Lewy gripped it by one side and pushed it along in front of him. It looked kinda weird but it worked for Lewy. Watching him use the walker like no one else took me back to a time before the Lewy Body took over Lewy’s body.
If you have read Pauline’s short biography of Lewy then you know that he was raised dirt poor during the depression so he was only able to go to school through the eighth grade. Then he went to work and then he went to war. I have to wonder what he would have done if he was born later or had more education because, just like his different way of using the walker, Lewy had a unique way of looking at looking at lots of mechanical systems. He could rebuild engines, built racing boats before it was a sport and once, in an emergency, turned a motor boat into a sail boat using an umbrella. And back in the 70’s he became convinced that he could build a machine that would generate energy.
At that point in time I was a smart ass young punk in college. Pauline was in Knoxville too and in the summers I worked for Lewy. One Sunday afternoon at his house Lewy began to tell me of his plans for a grand machine. He described a giant cam shaft with buckets attached and a pool of water below. As the cam rotated a pump would fill the buckets at the top with water from the pool. The weight of that water would pull the buckets down and rotate the shaft. At the bottom of their rotation the buckets would dump the water into the pool and rise to collect the water for the trip down. The rotation of the shaft would power an electric generator. That generator would supply the electricity for the pump to fill the buckets. The machine would go on forever.
Of course having already completed freshman engineering courses I felt obligated to explain to Lewy the error of his ways. I carefully explained the loss of energy that would result no matter how friction free the bearings were in his machine. I reviewed the laws of thermodynamics and suggested that his time would be better spent on other endeavors. I was in no way condescending. Yeah right!.
I went back to school at that fall and continued my education. More tough classes; Advanced Partying and How To Schedule Classes So You Can Sleep Till Noon.
The next summer I came back and Lewy gave me a job again. One day at his house Lewy asked me to come out to his work shop and look at something. He opened the door and there before me was a large scale mock-up of his machine. The cam shaft was made of two inch pipe and rotated in a five foot arch. There were buckets attached. The buckets had drop panels connected to devices that allowed them to drop their load of water at the bottom and rise to be filled from a tube at the top of the machine. The end of the rotating shaft turned a small electric generator and connected to that generator was a small light bulb. The light bulb was glowing. It wasn’t very bright but by God it was glowing.
I followed Lewy into the shop and began to examine the machine. It was large. The pool of water was four feet by eight feet. The top of the cam shaft had an operational diameter of six feet. Each bucket held two gallons of water, sixteen pounds. They filled with water at the top and pulled down turning the shaft. The rotating shaft had no bearings, just steel straps to hold it to the supports yet it turned fairly quietly and did so fast enough to power the generator. The light bulb glowed.
Then I looked closer and saw it. The buckets were being filled by a small water pumped plugged into a wall outlet. I turned to Lewy and pointed out, with full college educated inflection in my voice, that it the bulb would be much brighter if he just unplugged the pump and plugged the light into the wall.
Lewy watched the machine turn and said, “Yeah but this is just the mock-up. The real machine will have ball bearings.”
“But Lewy, the laws of thermodynamics state that……………………………………. Cool machine.”
I went back to school at the end of the summer. The next summer the machine was gone. Lewy never brought it up again and neither did I. Sometimes I still wonder what Lewy would have done if he had the opportunities I had. I bet he would have astounded his professors. I’m certain he would have made them stop and think.
Go to go now. Lewy is ready for lunch and he headed for the kitchen.
He is pushing the walker sideways in front of him.
I smile.
If you have read Pauline’s short biography of Lewy then you know that he was raised dirt poor during the depression so he was only able to go to school through the eighth grade. Then he went to work and then he went to war. I have to wonder what he would have done if he was born later or had more education because, just like his different way of using the walker, Lewy had a unique way of looking at looking at lots of mechanical systems. He could rebuild engines, built racing boats before it was a sport and once, in an emergency, turned a motor boat into a sail boat using an umbrella. And back in the 70’s he became convinced that he could build a machine that would generate energy.
At that point in time I was a smart ass young punk in college. Pauline was in Knoxville too and in the summers I worked for Lewy. One Sunday afternoon at his house Lewy began to tell me of his plans for a grand machine. He described a giant cam shaft with buckets attached and a pool of water below. As the cam rotated a pump would fill the buckets at the top with water from the pool. The weight of that water would pull the buckets down and rotate the shaft. At the bottom of their rotation the buckets would dump the water into the pool and rise to collect the water for the trip down. The rotation of the shaft would power an electric generator. That generator would supply the electricity for the pump to fill the buckets. The machine would go on forever.
Of course having already completed freshman engineering courses I felt obligated to explain to Lewy the error of his ways. I carefully explained the loss of energy that would result no matter how friction free the bearings were in his machine. I reviewed the laws of thermodynamics and suggested that his time would be better spent on other endeavors. I was in no way condescending. Yeah right!.
I went back to school at that fall and continued my education. More tough classes; Advanced Partying and How To Schedule Classes So You Can Sleep Till Noon.
The next summer I came back and Lewy gave me a job again. One day at his house Lewy asked me to come out to his work shop and look at something. He opened the door and there before me was a large scale mock-up of his machine. The cam shaft was made of two inch pipe and rotated in a five foot arch. There were buckets attached. The buckets had drop panels connected to devices that allowed them to drop their load of water at the bottom and rise to be filled from a tube at the top of the machine. The end of the rotating shaft turned a small electric generator and connected to that generator was a small light bulb. The light bulb was glowing. It wasn’t very bright but by God it was glowing.
I followed Lewy into the shop and began to examine the machine. It was large. The pool of water was four feet by eight feet. The top of the cam shaft had an operational diameter of six feet. Each bucket held two gallons of water, sixteen pounds. They filled with water at the top and pulled down turning the shaft. The rotating shaft had no bearings, just steel straps to hold it to the supports yet it turned fairly quietly and did so fast enough to power the generator. The light bulb glowed.
Then I looked closer and saw it. The buckets were being filled by a small water pumped plugged into a wall outlet. I turned to Lewy and pointed out, with full college educated inflection in my voice, that it the bulb would be much brighter if he just unplugged the pump and plugged the light into the wall.
Lewy watched the machine turn and said, “Yeah but this is just the mock-up. The real machine will have ball bearings.”
“But Lewy, the laws of thermodynamics state that……………………………………. Cool machine.”
I went back to school at the end of the summer. The next summer the machine was gone. Lewy never brought it up again and neither did I. Sometimes I still wonder what Lewy would have done if he had the opportunities I had. I bet he would have astounded his professors. I’m certain he would have made them stop and think.
Go to go now. Lewy is ready for lunch and he headed for the kitchen.
He is pushing the walker sideways in front of him.
I smile.
Thought for the Day
Hi there. Hubbie here again. It’s now Sunday and Pauline had to go back to the office. She gave Lewy his morning pills while he was in bed before she left. Shortly after she left he called me in and informed me that he wanted so get up so that I could uncross his ribs.
Apparently his ribs became entangled during the night and were causing him pain. I suggested that it would be better to bring that up to his doctor at his appointment later this week. Lewy said OK and we began the morning ritual dance of rising, peeing and dressing. During the peeing part, as he sat on the toilet, Lewy asked if it would disturb my schedule if he took a crap.
“Nope. No problem Lewy. It’s Sunday.”
“OK. Then you better close the door.”
Hmm. This may not be a good sign. If Lewy thinks it is going to be that bad maybe I should put the dogs out and open the windows. It’s only 35 degrees outside. But I just shut the bathroom door and waited. In fairly short order I was pleasantly surprised to hear the shower running. Oh Good! He is taking a shower! Shows mobility and erases odor!........................Oh God! I hope it is not to wash off the crap!!!
After a while I opened the door to check and found Lewy clean and just needing a little help to get out of the shower. He made his way to be bedroom and I helped him dress. As I started to pull his tee shirt over his head I noticed that it was backwards and said so. I backed it off and rotated the shirt for proper placement over Lewy’s head. I learned at that point that Lewy shared my interest in physics.
“These four dimensional clothes are hard on people like me.”
“Yeah Lewy, I’m sure they are.
How about some coffee.? "
Apparently his ribs became entangled during the night and were causing him pain. I suggested that it would be better to bring that up to his doctor at his appointment later this week. Lewy said OK and we began the morning ritual dance of rising, peeing and dressing. During the peeing part, as he sat on the toilet, Lewy asked if it would disturb my schedule if he took a crap.
“Nope. No problem Lewy. It’s Sunday.”
“OK. Then you better close the door.”
Hmm. This may not be a good sign. If Lewy thinks it is going to be that bad maybe I should put the dogs out and open the windows. It’s only 35 degrees outside. But I just shut the bathroom door and waited. In fairly short order I was pleasantly surprised to hear the shower running. Oh Good! He is taking a shower! Shows mobility and erases odor!........................Oh God! I hope it is not to wash off the crap!!!
After a while I opened the door to check and found Lewy clean and just needing a little help to get out of the shower. He made his way to be bedroom and I helped him dress. As I started to pull his tee shirt over his head I noticed that it was backwards and said so. I backed it off and rotated the shirt for proper placement over Lewy’s head. I learned at that point that Lewy shared my interest in physics.
“These four dimensional clothes are hard on people like me.”
“Yeah Lewy, I’m sure they are.
How about some coffee.? "
Don’t Rock the Boat
Lewy was busy today. The workers were here with the backhoes, and there was a long line of them outside waiting to be paid. Our house gets painted everyday and every night the dust from the workers falls in Lewy’s mouth.
The dog had puppies today. It’s only been 3 days since the last litter. I think it had been only a couple of days before that she had another. Busy girl. Lewy also thinks she has a penis. He is however, in a better position to know these things than I am since she talks to him and tells him what all these people do when he’s not looking. She no doubt talks about her puppies too.
All proud parents do.
A few days ago I was convinced that Lewy might need to use his wheelchair all the time. Today he was getting about fairly well. He walked from room to room to inspect what all the workers were doing, because “you know they will cheat you if you don’t stay on ‘em.” Well Lewy stayed on ‘em. Every time we passed each other he would whisper something about this one or that one that is stealing our stuff or sleeping in the truck.
You watch ‘em Lewy. ……No, I won’t pay the ones that are sleeping…I promise. That was the easiest promise to keep I have ever made.
After a bit of puttering about the house I noticed I hadn’t seen Lewy in the last few minutes….I better go check on him. There in the middle of his bedroom he is standing staring at the floor. I go on about my business. After a few minutes more I pass Lewy’s bedroom again. Lewy is still standing there, still staring at the floor. I go on about my business.
“Hey Polly! Polly!”
“Yeah Dad, what’s up?”
“What do you want me to wear today?”
“What you have on.”
“Don’t you want me to change clothes?”
“No, we did that already.”
“We did?”
“Yeah, we did.”
”What do you want me to wear?”
“How about nothing?”……..”Come on Daddy, lets go sit down”. I took his hand and leaned away from him. It’s about the only way to unfreeze him that I’ve found. Come on take that first step.
Come on, move your feet……You can do it. Take that first step.
“I will. I’m just waiting for the boat to quit rocking.”
You stand right there Pappy. I’ll go get the wheelchair.
The dog had puppies today. It’s only been 3 days since the last litter. I think it had been only a couple of days before that she had another. Busy girl. Lewy also thinks she has a penis. He is however, in a better position to know these things than I am since she talks to him and tells him what all these people do when he’s not looking. She no doubt talks about her puppies too.
All proud parents do.
A few days ago I was convinced that Lewy might need to use his wheelchair all the time. Today he was getting about fairly well. He walked from room to room to inspect what all the workers were doing, because “you know they will cheat you if you don’t stay on ‘em.” Well Lewy stayed on ‘em. Every time we passed each other he would whisper something about this one or that one that is stealing our stuff or sleeping in the truck.
You watch ‘em Lewy. ……No, I won’t pay the ones that are sleeping…I promise. That was the easiest promise to keep I have ever made.
After a bit of puttering about the house I noticed I hadn’t seen Lewy in the last few minutes….I better go check on him. There in the middle of his bedroom he is standing staring at the floor. I go on about my business. After a few minutes more I pass Lewy’s bedroom again. Lewy is still standing there, still staring at the floor. I go on about my business.
“Hey Polly! Polly!”
“Yeah Dad, what’s up?”
“What do you want me to wear today?”
“What you have on.”
“Don’t you want me to change clothes?”
“No, we did that already.”
“We did?”
“Yeah, we did.”
”What do you want me to wear?”
“How about nothing?”……..”Come on Daddy, lets go sit down”. I took his hand and leaned away from him. It’s about the only way to unfreeze him that I’ve found. Come on take that first step.
Come on, move your feet……You can do it. Take that first step.
“I will. I’m just waiting for the boat to quit rocking.”
You stand right there Pappy. I’ll go get the wheelchair.
Good Morning, Sunshine!
This morning started out rather well. Lewy was sleeping late and a gentle snow fall was covering the yard in white. A perfect Southern snowfall. White ground, clear roads. I got up made my coffee, took the dogs out for their morning stroll. This was indeed a glorious morning. Normally before I wake up Lewy starts hollering for me. PAULINE! PAULINE!
There is no concept in Lewy’s head, of waiting for someone to wake up on their own, or go pee, or make coffee, or walk the dogs before you have to go attend to him. Everything is NOW! NOW! NOW!
But this morning, I had my coffee, I thought what a pleasant day, I think I’ll work on a crossword puzzle before 8 AM when I should start doing my office work.
There is always a price. Some how some way you always have to pay up.
Lewy started hollering from his recliner, I GOTTA GET OUT OF THIS THING! COME UNSTRAP ME!
That meant that Lewy was now awake and ready to get up. He thinks he’s strapped into the recliner. So I go in and flip the lever for him and raise the chair back up to sitting rather reclining position. I then turned away from Lewy to walk into the next room to get his walker.
“HEY! DON’T GO AWAY!!! I NEED TO GET UP!”
“OK, OK, I’m coming…”
Again it’s the same routine, Lewy does not recall the mechanics of standing up, and so I have to coach him through it. Lewy gets up, gets his “marbles” as he calls them, and with the help of the walker goes to the bathroom to unload.
Several minutes pass. Then Lewy yells; “HEY COME HERE!” So I get up and go into the bathroom. OMG! The stench! I had to back out gasp for air, run back in turn on the fan, and run back out to gasp again. Lewy was standing in front of the toilet with his pants down around his ankles. “Are you through?...It sure smells like you are.”
“No, no I’m not through, there are still several chunks in there YOU need to get out.”
“No, you need to sit back down and finish.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I won’t be able to get up.”
“You just did get up. You will be able to get up again.”
“No, I never did sit down.”…………………………
Oh no, no, not that……………………………………………………………It was then I noticed that there were 2 inch wide thick streaks of…..lets call it chocolate….I don’t like chocolate anyway….but it looked exactly like soft fudge smeared all down his legs.
“Daddy, PLEASE, sit down, PLEASE. Finish your business sitting on the toilet, PLEASE.”
“I can’t do that”
“Why not?” It’s always pointless to try to have logic or reasoning involved in any discussion with Lewy, but there I am asking the question. “Why can’t you sit on the toilet?” ….
“Because I’ve never done it that way before!”……
At this point there is nothing to do but clean him up. I asked if he had wiped his butt, and he assured me that he had. I took the scissors over and cut his diapers off of him. When I pulled them out the “chocolate” was smeared all over the back, the sides, the front…he had no doubt crapped his pants during the night.
Then I had him toddle over to the sink and I had to coax him into raising one foot at a time so I could get his pants off from around his ankles. Now at this point, I have my face basically under Lewy’s bare ass, with shit all down his legs, and all over his ass. This is a very narrow bathroom. I finally got the pants free from around his feet, and lifted them up to carry off to the laundry.
Two turds fell out. OMG! And there was more in the pants. I could tell they weighed more than they should, even wet.
I got Daddy washed down, got the shit off his legs and butt. I asked him again if he had wiped.
“YES YES YES I WIPED MY ASS!”
So I got out the butt grease the nurse told me about and I greased him up. “Now, let’s go get dressed.”
The routine is Lewy goes to his bed, sits down and I slip his diapers on him. Only this morning when I helped Daddy stand up to pull up his diaper, there was now shit all over the side of the bed! Why the hell did I believe him when he insisted he had wiped? Hell, what would anyone who’s never sat down to shit in their life know about wiping?
I went and got the wash rag, bent over, and parted the cheeks. Can’t say that I’ve ever seen the anal opening so up close and personal. There was shit, lots of shit. Three cycles of hot soapy washcloth wipes, rinses and rewipes, and….I’m not sure….what color is a butt hole supposed to be?.....It ain’t exactly pink…
No matter!
By the power vested in me as the designated butt wiper, I hereby declare this butt clean!
“Now, how ‘bout some breakfast?”
There is no concept in Lewy’s head, of waiting for someone to wake up on their own, or go pee, or make coffee, or walk the dogs before you have to go attend to him. Everything is NOW! NOW! NOW!
But this morning, I had my coffee, I thought what a pleasant day, I think I’ll work on a crossword puzzle before 8 AM when I should start doing my office work.
There is always a price. Some how some way you always have to pay up.
Lewy started hollering from his recliner, I GOTTA GET OUT OF THIS THING! COME UNSTRAP ME!
That meant that Lewy was now awake and ready to get up. He thinks he’s strapped into the recliner. So I go in and flip the lever for him and raise the chair back up to sitting rather reclining position. I then turned away from Lewy to walk into the next room to get his walker.
“HEY! DON’T GO AWAY!!! I NEED TO GET UP!”
“OK, OK, I’m coming…”
Again it’s the same routine, Lewy does not recall the mechanics of standing up, and so I have to coach him through it. Lewy gets up, gets his “marbles” as he calls them, and with the help of the walker goes to the bathroom to unload.
Several minutes pass. Then Lewy yells; “HEY COME HERE!” So I get up and go into the bathroom. OMG! The stench! I had to back out gasp for air, run back in turn on the fan, and run back out to gasp again. Lewy was standing in front of the toilet with his pants down around his ankles. “Are you through?...It sure smells like you are.”
“No, no I’m not through, there are still several chunks in there YOU need to get out.”
“No, you need to sit back down and finish.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I won’t be able to get up.”
“You just did get up. You will be able to get up again.”
“No, I never did sit down.”…………………………
Oh no, no, not that……………………………………………………………It was then I noticed that there were 2 inch wide thick streaks of…..lets call it chocolate….I don’t like chocolate anyway….but it looked exactly like soft fudge smeared all down his legs.
“Daddy, PLEASE, sit down, PLEASE. Finish your business sitting on the toilet, PLEASE.”
“I can’t do that”
“Why not?” It’s always pointless to try to have logic or reasoning involved in any discussion with Lewy, but there I am asking the question. “Why can’t you sit on the toilet?” ….
“Because I’ve never done it that way before!”……
At this point there is nothing to do but clean him up. I asked if he had wiped his butt, and he assured me that he had. I took the scissors over and cut his diapers off of him. When I pulled them out the “chocolate” was smeared all over the back, the sides, the front…he had no doubt crapped his pants during the night.
Then I had him toddle over to the sink and I had to coax him into raising one foot at a time so I could get his pants off from around his ankles. Now at this point, I have my face basically under Lewy’s bare ass, with shit all down his legs, and all over his ass. This is a very narrow bathroom. I finally got the pants free from around his feet, and lifted them up to carry off to the laundry.
Two turds fell out. OMG! And there was more in the pants. I could tell they weighed more than they should, even wet.
I got Daddy washed down, got the shit off his legs and butt. I asked him again if he had wiped.
“YES YES YES I WIPED MY ASS!”
So I got out the butt grease the nurse told me about and I greased him up. “Now, let’s go get dressed.”
The routine is Lewy goes to his bed, sits down and I slip his diapers on him. Only this morning when I helped Daddy stand up to pull up his diaper, there was now shit all over the side of the bed! Why the hell did I believe him when he insisted he had wiped? Hell, what would anyone who’s never sat down to shit in their life know about wiping?
I went and got the wash rag, bent over, and parted the cheeks. Can’t say that I’ve ever seen the anal opening so up close and personal. There was shit, lots of shit. Three cycles of hot soapy washcloth wipes, rinses and rewipes, and….I’m not sure….what color is a butt hole supposed to be?.....It ain’t exactly pink…
No matter!
By the power vested in me as the designated butt wiper, I hereby declare this butt clean!
“Now, how ‘bout some breakfast?”
I Have to Pee
It’s another lovely day here in Lewy Land. Lewy has recently decided that the bathroom is not the place to go when an urge hits. This is particularly true when it is bed time and I’m trying to get him to go pee.
He has instead decided that the portable potty is the perfect thing to use rather than actually going to the toilet. Certainly, if it’s not going to be the commode he uses, then the porta-potty is the next best choice.
The entire time I’m undressing him and getting him in his pajamas I’m asking Lewy “Do you need to go pee?” Always the answer is” No.”
But I continue to ask, because you just never know when the answer might change.
After getting Lewy in his PJs, he decided to use the portable unit beside his bed. OK, use it.
Lewy shuffled over to the potty and slowly eased down onto the seat.
Oh geez, he’s got gas. I have my little show fit, and leave the room to go get the air freshener. I use a lot of that stuff. The smells are at times just over whelming.
Back in the room with Lewy, I start spraying. He farts. I spray. He farts.
Now tell me guys, why are farts so funny? Is it just because of the rise you get out of us women who bitch about it? Whatever it is, Lewy was laughing and farting.
Plunk. Plunk. Plunk plunk.
Ooooooo, now there’s more to clean out of the potty than I had expected. I hope they will flush….
Lewy started to get up. “Have you wiped?” “Yes.” “No you haven’t. There’s no toilet paper in here.” “Well I was going to.” ………Reminded me of being a little kid and lying about not doing what I obviously had done. At what age do you figure out that it doesn’t work? What ever age that is, Lewy has regressed beyond it.
OK… let me go get you some paper.
“Where do you want me to put it?”
“In the potty is fine.” I left the room to go get some wet wipes for him to wipe his fingers on. Upon returning he had cleaned his behind and took the wet nap and began to wipe his hands. For some dumb reason I left the room again. When I got back, I asked Lewy where the wet nap was. “I threw it in the pot with the other.”
Oooo!! Yuk! OK, how am I going to fish that out? Very disgusting. Perhaps it was a mistake to have put water and comet in the potty earlier.
Lewy gets up, I help him pull up his pants, and he toddles off toward the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To the bathroom. I have to pee.”
Wonderful.
He has instead decided that the portable potty is the perfect thing to use rather than actually going to the toilet. Certainly, if it’s not going to be the commode he uses, then the porta-potty is the next best choice.
The entire time I’m undressing him and getting him in his pajamas I’m asking Lewy “Do you need to go pee?” Always the answer is” No.”
But I continue to ask, because you just never know when the answer might change.
After getting Lewy in his PJs, he decided to use the portable unit beside his bed. OK, use it.
Lewy shuffled over to the potty and slowly eased down onto the seat.
Oh geez, he’s got gas. I have my little show fit, and leave the room to go get the air freshener. I use a lot of that stuff. The smells are at times just over whelming.
Back in the room with Lewy, I start spraying. He farts. I spray. He farts.
Now tell me guys, why are farts so funny? Is it just because of the rise you get out of us women who bitch about it? Whatever it is, Lewy was laughing and farting.
Plunk. Plunk. Plunk plunk.
Ooooooo, now there’s more to clean out of the potty than I had expected. I hope they will flush….
Lewy started to get up. “Have you wiped?” “Yes.” “No you haven’t. There’s no toilet paper in here.” “Well I was going to.” ………Reminded me of being a little kid and lying about not doing what I obviously had done. At what age do you figure out that it doesn’t work? What ever age that is, Lewy has regressed beyond it.
OK… let me go get you some paper.
“Where do you want me to put it?”
“In the potty is fine.” I left the room to go get some wet wipes for him to wipe his fingers on. Upon returning he had cleaned his behind and took the wet nap and began to wipe his hands. For some dumb reason I left the room again. When I got back, I asked Lewy where the wet nap was. “I threw it in the pot with the other.”
Oooo!! Yuk! OK, how am I going to fish that out? Very disgusting. Perhaps it was a mistake to have put water and comet in the potty earlier.
Lewy gets up, I help him pull up his pants, and he toddles off toward the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To the bathroom. I have to pee.”
Wonderful.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)