Take for example, the phone call I got from E. at 4:30 this morning. E. told me that he woke up and went into the hall to make breakfast and start making lunches for the kids to take to school. After talking about it being Sunday and VERY early in the morning, E. told me he'd better let me go as he knew I was busy making breakfast and lunches and getting the kids off to school.
Oh wait, it gets better. Way better.
E. told me that the nurses took away his street clothes. Huh? I inquired. Well, I guess when you decide to take a midnight stroll to Wendy's for a burger, they don't like that very much. Or when you return to the hospital and all the doors are locked, so you wander around outside. Or when a security guard finally helps you find an unlocked entrance and finally make it back to the floor and get comfortable in the wrong room. E. was not a happy camper. He said they locked his damn clothes in a cabinet with a zip tie. He was adamant that I bring him his finger nail clippers so he could bust the zip tie and rescue his clothes. And to top things off, when he finally got to his room, his damn burger was cold! (Oh, and when I expressed concern for his safety while he was walking the streets of the city, E. assured me that he had protection ... a plastic knife from the cafeteria!)
When I got to the hospital at 5:45 a.m., I was surprised to find E. in his street clothes. I asked what clothes they had locked up and he said it must have been his other set. When I pointed to the other set of clothes on the shelf, he was then convinced it was his Carhartt winter coat. Despite the fact that I pointed out it was August, he was convinced. He continues to think of ways to get into the cabinet (there is in fact a cabinet which is zip tied shut).
While E. knows that he is in the hospital, knows who the President is, knows his name and his birthday and knows what year it is, other things escape him. He asks same questions over and over. We frequently have the same conversations. He doesn't remember things. He gets confused. It is hard to reason with him. Sometimes he realizes that things aren't lining up, and that frustrates him. Or he tries to joke his way out of the situation. Most of the time though he thinks he is right and gets pissy if you try to correct him. I am patient with him. I know it is not his fault. Thankfully there are lots of good conversations too and he definitely hasn't lost his sense of humor or his feistiness.
Sometimes I can't help but laugh. It can be so funny. But sometimes it's not funny at all.
I worry about leaving him alone.
S.
Oh Sandy. I love you. The stories are funny and as time passes they get funnier or at least they will for E. when you tell him them over. Keep laughing cuz it is just good for you. I did the same thing to Bill and my entire family. I love that you blog about all this, it helps me ....we've been where you are in so many ways. The steroids will make for a few more stories before this is over. I bought Bill the movie...50 First Dates. Humor is what it's all about!
ReplyDeleteWhen my Mom had her glioblastoma, communication got pretty colorful. In her mind, the words she was saying were the right ones. What was coming out of her mouth was entirely different. While she thought she was telling me to pass her the sugar for the coffee, she was actually verbalizing that it was too hot in the room. I'd go to open the window for her, and she'd yell, "NOOOOO!!!! I said it's too hot in the room!" while pointing at the sugar bowl. She was patient with me, until we developed a language that was our own. Rather than try to reason with her, I took the blame for being slow on the draw and it seemed to ease her frustration a little. Improvisational conversation was clear; things she had to think about - like giving directions - got jumbled up. One night she said, "Now you go to bed and get good sleep, and when we wake up in the morning I will make us bird seed for breakfast." I said that sounded really great. It's hard. Steroids helped her a lot, but they kept her awake (when I was exhausted) and she ate me out of house and home. Eleven peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were required in order to go sit by the pool... No problem. I had enough to bread to make them. We handed them out to neighbors. We had a lot of laughs, and it was the hardest thing I have ever done, and I wouldn't trade being there for the world. Thinking about you ... Sending love, humor, and strength your way girl! Sending all the best healing energy E's way.
ReplyDeleteBig X's and O's to you and E.
D'Lanie
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ReplyDeleteOh D'Lanie, I know we shouldn't laugh, but sometimes you just have to. You either laugh or you cry. And sometimes both.
ReplyDeleteS.