Objects are closer than they may appear

[Poppygail]

Or more to the point, LIFE, and death, is closer than it may appear. And that point is being driven ever deeper into my my soul each an every day.

All of my adult life I have either been a full time student and part time worker or employed. My days have been full, maintaining a long term marriage, rearing a family, moving from one patient to another, managing practice economics, maintaining a home, hobbies... you get the idea. There wasn’t a lot of down time. Even after the LBD diagnosis, I was determined my days were going to remain full and productive. And for the most part I have managed to live up to that.

But there has been a change in the last several months. And not one that I like. I still get up in the morning with the same old drive. I know there’s somyout there that I should be doing, that I NEED to be doing. But for the life of me, 7 out of 10 times, I have absolutely no idea what that thing is. And if by some miracle I do figure out a doable task, I often forget to do it before I get to it. The casual observer would be wholly justified in believing I was nothing more than a lazy slob. I’m even forgetting to take showers for days at a time. I hate that. I never missed a day in the past. My wife is gently reminding me, trying not to minimize my feelings. But let’s face it, stink is stink. Eventually, it’s gotta go.

That same casual observer, or many of my family and friends who aren’t with me on a daily basis, might well believe I don’t have a care in the world. For often I’m sitting in my recliner, my sactuary, blankly staring at nothing. It seems as though I don’t have a thought in my head or a care in the world. But that most certainly isn’t the case. I’m in here, I’m alive. I have feelings, joys, fears, loves, peeves, worries. I’m concerned that my wife’s rheumatoid is advancing, worried about her overcoming the grieving process when I’m gone, I hate what my family is going through on my behalf, I worry about the world that is fast deteriorating around us and will be left fro the younger generation such as my granddaughter. I rejoice at each celebration such as my SIL’s recent 70th birthday or our recent 40th anniversary. The point is, I’m in here and, with effort and patience, I can let you know. But the day is coming when that possibility won’t exist. And I dread that as well. But there are positive things as well. In casual social situations, where I used to be a wall flower, I now am much more comfortable in initiating a conversation with a total stranger. Just don’t put me in a crowd. And the positive side of going into your second childhood- if I'm grumpy, all your family has to do is strap me into the car and a 5 minute car ride later I’m fast asleep, happy as a lark, just like a baby would be. It never fails.

In skimming this little missive it seems I have gone a bit far afield of where I started. It only goes to illustrate my point that you can never tell where you’ll wind up when you start on a journey with me. If you can find your way back to reality, hurry, get out while you can. As for me, I think I’ll hang around here and see where this ride ends.

Have a great day everyone,

Randy

[daddyt]

A very poignant message... one that resonates well with me. You have a great day too.

Tim

[jeffcobb Ambassador]

Yeah, thats the thing about time I never mention because it would mean nothing to anyone else....but the thing where I say I have 3-day weeks? Well all that does is magnify how quickly the changes are coming and how pervasive the effects of them actually are. Like in the movie The Hunt for Red October, when the sonar man picks of the pattern of the new sub its because he played the sonar track back at 10x normal speed, at which point the sound pattern of the new sub became noticeable.

What I am trying to focus on as this happens is sort of a cup is half-full kind of thing. Yes, I have these various defects that are getting worse and pretty much screwing up whats left of my life....but I am more than thankful for the fact that I have been able to avoid many of the things that make a patient overly difficult for a caregiver. Sounds like you too. We have the symptoms and they ain't fun but they are from a perspective, benign. And lets face it, I think in this we are wired much the same inside: not to be crude but would you not eat a bucket of shit to save your caregiver/wife? I am happy about the fact that at this point it doesn't look like I will need much tying down at night, I can still converse a little as long as its type-written, I am not a danger to myself or others; I may have my own little world but there is enough overlap where I can comfortably coexist with it, and the more I can do that, the easier life is on my caregiver. I have no way of knowing if it will last or if anything I have done altered the course of things one iota but I can definitely say that its not NOT working....