You Make A Big Good

Chapter 7 Meanderings of a Mind with Dementia As things progressed, Jim’s mind often wandered, “I'm tired. I can't do what I used to do. I want to write down the times that were special in my life, like my friends, my family, travels, going camping, and hiking. Life was good ... our homes ... and I like music, dances, picking up sticks. I picked up a lot of sticks, and that was fun.” He did love picking up sticks. When we moved to Senior Living, Jim still had a shed that was in our backyard with bins and bins of sticks that he had carefully stored. There was enough kindling for several years! Jim said to me, “We always wondered who would die first. I guess we know now.” Later, from his bed, “Where am I? I lost track.” While we were in a large group listening to Dean Martin’s, ‘You’re Nobody ‘Til Somebody Loves You,” Jim said, “That’s you ... and me too.” We danced to a couple of these songs. Yes! I treasure moments like this. I tuck them in my heart to remember. Jim doesn’t often hallucinate, but when he does, it is always a surprise to me. We were sitting out on the patio looking at clouds, he said, “There are people getting out. Here comes another one. It’s takin a lakin right now, not doing anything.” no key to unlock confusion from dawn to dusk living, not knowing I told Jim that Julie was going to a friend’s house to get some wood. “Who’s that?” he asked. He couldn’t say the word daughter. That is so sad! Thus, it goes. It's another day in the dementia world. I was with Jim for three or so hours today. At one point, he said, “We had a store thing. That was nice. Someday, two or three or maybe four people who were new are having a hard time. They were talking—steven stuff. It felt okay to reach out.” When I visited Jim, I said, “Jim, I’m Mary.” He gave me a confused look. “Jim, can you look at me? I’m Mary.” He replied, “Who are you? Are you you? I’m in a different room.” making sense of life he doesn’t know who I am I know who he is We sat for a while, holding hands, and I said, “I love to hold your hand, Jim.” His reply, “I like to catch it, too.” Jim started a conversation, “Early in the morning, we lost all the breath. They told us it wasn’t very long, and it went away. It was 5 or 6 days. Most of the time, we’re going on this thing. It’s not very deep.” A male resident was standing by himself, and Jim said to him, “Want to do something?” The three of us held hands and moved around to some music. It was very touching. Jim sees one of the female residents and tells me, “She’s stealing from me. She’s all smiles—ha ha ha! It pisses me off. I just leave it to God. He sees everything, but it still pisses me off—she (the person supposedly stealing) goes ha-ha-ha.” It is so unusual for Jim to use this language. I guess his ‘filter’ isn’t working, and he says what he’s feeling. Then, about a staff member, he says, “She’s looking for me. I’m hiding. She comes in and insults me. She gives me a problem.” Jim asked another male resident, B, “Where did you live before you came here?” Having difficulty finding words, B replies, “Shaker ... how many people ... I didn’t ...” Jim turned and said to me, “It was hard to talk. I’m sad. He was trying to talk to me. It didn’t feel good.” Jim tells me, “I don’t know what’s going to happen to me ... to get better. I don’t know how to do that.” my limitations can’t fix, can tend and love him let it be enough care-partner sharing love that struggles to express no easy answers sit with my sadness the language of love and loss presence of absence Our “conversation” today went like this, “When I get out, I get into trouble. I really don’t want to stop. Are the lights, ok? He tried to fix it … (?? lost in translation)! Back before the boss said about how people ought to get together, he said on the inside ... outside and what’s not to do and he took the dog. He bropped the people who take care of the staff. I’ll have to figure out what to do next. Anyway, so much for that! I was trying to get ... matter ... no, batter, no ... oh me. my mind. I really have a hard time with that!” Can you imagine this kind of confusion day after day after day? Poor guy! At bingo today, Jim had a hard time repeating letters and numbers. He said, “Well, that was barrass!” (embarrassing) Jim punched three people today, two of them visitors. Yikes! The nurse gave him some medication to calm him. He didn't like the medicine because it tasted bitter. He ran after the nurse and banged on her door. Jim didn’t have much to eat today. He ate with his eyes closed most of the time and was quiet for quite a while. I asked him what he was thinking. He replied, “I hate to say this, but the noise is hard to eat.” it is so darn hard don’t know how to comfort him feel inadequate everything with care keep showing up in spite of ... giving my best self