I had a phone message today that my husband Richard wasn’t eating and was “more out of it than normal.” The not eating part of the message was the most concerning to me. Normally Richard has a very good appetite. Of course, I immediately assumed the worst.
He seems better tonight, but it reminded me of the fear these types of calls put in me. There have been so many the last few years with Dad, Mom and now Richard that sometimes I wonder if I’ve developed a fear of the phone.
I just did a search on the Internet tonight and found that a fear of the phone is actually recognized as a phobia.
I may have to ask friends and family members to stop texting me and to start calling instead with cheery messages.
They could even recite flowery poetry directly into my voice mail box. That ought to solve it.
And besides, there’s nothing more calming than having a good poem read to you. I may
even try that with Richard.
Like a box of Cracker Jacks, open it up and there’s a prize inside!
…after the rain. A soothing site for the soul.
I’ve earned the gray muzzle.
A little like battle scars. Or better, badges of honor!
At least I’d like to think so.
I’ve heard recovery from caregiving for someone with Alzheimer’s or dementia takes several years, as the physical and emotional toll on a caregiver’s body is so significant.
I saw the toll it took on my Mom, particularly as Dad entered a late stage with his Alzheimer’s. She was determined to keep him home until a crisis occurred. It finally did, and that took the decision out of her hands. Shortly thereafter, the signs of her own dementia began. I sometimes wonder if the dementia would have occurred so soon, if at all, if she hadn’t been a caregiver so long. We’ll never know.
Try as you might to build an adequate support system, often there’s a point where it just isn’t enough. Night after night of 3-4 hours of sleep catches up with you. So does caregiving when the caregiver is flat on their back with the flu, and no one is there to help.
I wish all current and past caregivers well as they attempt the journey over the bridge to good health once again.
But the waters below are murky, so tread carefully.
My sister knows I love lilacs and dogs. Both bring me much joy.
She bought the bottle of wine last week because she loved the dog on the label. The dog looks just like one of mine.
My sister also thought it would be the perfect vase for the lilacs. And it was.
She had fun creating the still life for the camera. I had fun helping her.
It will be a special memory, of a special visit for two sisters.
…may it bring you some joy.