Bob's Turn

Today it was Bob's turn.

This lady has been Bob's physical therapist, but his Medicare coverage has run out, so this was his last appointment. What a lovely person she was.  She reminded me so much of our wonderful SPCA friend and dog sitter, Ashley, in her positive attitude and especially her love of the two dogs.  I liked her a lot.

Peach was warned that the injection of Neulasta she received yesterday would give her bone pain, but that it would only last a couple of days.  She has been pain free, which is a blessing.  But she is very tired so she has taken several naps today.  She made it to breakfast (Bob didn't), but wasn't up to going to the dining room for lunch or dinner.

So I am still Bob's date for meals.  

Though he has recovered miraculously from his stroke 3 years ago, the effects of the assault on his body are very apparent.  He walks with a walker and his right side is weak.  Sometimes he can't make it all the way to the dining room (about where the red light is below, above Bob's head).

This afternoon, walking back to the apartment, he got very winded and I ended up pushing him in his walker, so he didn't have to push it himself.

The hardest thing for him is his loss of short-term memory.  He wants so desperately to understand what is happening to Peach and what the course of her treatment is, but it's just beyond him, though he talks about it all the time.

I called my mother this afternoon and was sorry that I did.  She just pouted about how I was here when I should be there and that I had deserted her.  She talked with Peach and told her that she was jealous of her. I am here surrounded by so many of my mother's contemporaries, many of them in worse shape than she is, and I haven't heard all that negativity since I last left Atria.

This afternoon, Peach and Bob were going to go to Mass, which was being said in the non-denominational chapel here.

But both of them were too exhausted, so they didn't go.  Later, the priest showed up here in the apartment to bring them communion and anoint them.

He was a very nice man and seemed interested in Bob's stories about his and Peach's work on the Stealth Bomber project many years ago (heck, even I am learning things about their work that I never knew!)

(I am feeling somewhat schizophrenic here since everyone knows Peach as Carolyn, so I have called her "Carolyn" probably more than I ever have in my life...but at home she will always be "Peach.")

Bob at 77

We were standing at the dessert buffet table when my cousin Ken turned to me and said, "I'll bet she could still beat me at Pinochle.   That woman is as sharp as she ever was..."  
 

I wonder what he would have said if he had been me earlier in the day.

I didn't go to Atria yesterday, but the day before we talked about going to Bob's birthday party this afternoon.  I reminded her that it was written on her calendar.  This morning, I called to remind her that we were going to the party.  To my delight, she remembered and said she'd be ready to go at 3 when I said we would pick her up.

At 2:45, I called to let her know we were getting ready to leave and would meet her out in front of Atria.

"Oh?" she asked.  "Where are we going?"  I told her that we were going to Bob's party.  "WHO?" she said.  I said that it was Bob's birthday party and that I had talked with Peach and we were supposed to be there at 4. "Are they here?" she asked.   I assured her that they were in Roseville and that we needed to leave in 15 minutes.  "Well, I'll have to  change my clothes," she said "I didn't know anything about this."  She asked several times in the car where we were going and what we were going to do there.

Sigh.  No, Ken--she will not beat you at Pinochle, and no, she is not as sharp as she ever was.

That aside, however, it really was a lovely afternoon and, as usual my mother covered beautifully and I don't think anybody got much of a hint at how she recognized almost nobody and had to be reminded of what all those people were there for.  She was thrilled to see Peach again, of course, though she couldn't get over her curly hair and couldn't remember it ever being white.  She told me several times that she just didn't recognize her.

But she got to see several other people in the family, like my 2nd cousin, Donna (Niecie's sister), Ken, and Peach's sister Mandy, whom we almost never see.

As for the birthday boy, Peach intended this to be a surprise and he was overwhelmed when he saw the crowd

We spent a lot of time indoors in the air conditioning since it was in the mid 90s outside, but later when it began to cool off we went to the dinner buffet arranged by Peach's son Mike and his wife Stacey--a fabulous spread!  Then after dinner, they set up chairs so Bob and Peach could have their picture taken with everyone who was there, in groups of 1 or 2 (someone else took the picture with Walt and me in it, so I don't have that one)

and at the end of the guest pictures, pictures with the reason they had come out here, their new great grandchild, Everly (not Beverly).   There was a Grandparent picture and a 4 generations picture (the guy in the red shirt is my godson, Peach's son).  And yes, she is the most beautiful baby in the world...under the age of 2.

So a great time was had by all, and as the sun started setting, we told everyone goodbye and I took my traditional picture of Peach with Kathy's husband, Fred, the long and the short of it.  (Once again, as I frequently do, I wished Kathy were there with us.)

My mother mentioned many times on the way home that it had been a "busy day" and I certainly hope she was able to get to sleep tonight. At least for one day she had something "exciting" to do and couldn't tell me nothing exciting ever happens in her life.

But I don't think I'll plan any games of pinochle with her in the foreseeable future.  We are hoping Peach and Bob will make it to Davis for a day, but that is looking less and less likely.

Day 62:  Our wonderful, wonderful reunion!

Seemed Like a Long Day

My day started in panic this morning.  Yesterday afternoon, I called my mother and there was no answer.  I figured she was probably taking her daily walk around the lagoon and decided I would call her later, but with the phone call from our Gregorian Chant friend, I never did.

This morning I called her at 7:15 and there was no answer.  I figured she was in the bathroom.  Ten minutes later I called again and got her answering machine.  I thought maybe she was talking to her stepson, who sometimes calls her in the morning, but when I called her two more times over the next 20 minutes and there was still no answer, I didn't know what to do.  I had plans to take Peach to lunch and was almost ready to tell her I would have to cancel and drive to San Rafael.

Before I did that, I decided to call LifeLine and see if they could get an answer out of my mother if there was maybe a problem with her telephone. I thought they might still be able to call out to her.  I was convinced she was either sick or dead.

Fortunately the LifeLine office doesn't open until 8:30 so I would have to wait 15 minutes.  I called my mother one last time and she answered.   When I asked where she had been, she said that she had been sitting right there at her table, just feet from the phone, and that it had not rung.  These days I don't know what to believe with her, but at least she was OK, or as OK as she ever is these days, and I could keep my lunch date with Peach.

I'm unhappy that my mother's pain is increasing.  She says she's having problem walking because her hips and her legs hurt, as well as her back but the doctor seems to think there's nothing that can be done for her, so she's trying to learn how to live with the pain.

So since she wasn't dead and I didn't have to drive to her house to discover her body, I kept my date with Peach.  Bob has been moved to a new, smaller facility where he will presumably end up in long term care (MediCal willing).  They had some serious problems with how he was being handled at first, but had a meeting with lots of folks earlier this week and hope that things will begin to improve regarding his care.  

I asked if she was still going to visit him every day, and she said that she and her son were now taking turns, so she gets some days off.  I figured she could use some "fun" (as much as you can have fun under these circumstances), so suggested that I take her out to lunch.

I got there around 11 and got the latest report on Bob.  We also talked a lot about my mother and the concerns we both have about her continuing to live independently vs. her pride in being able to live independently and how that would be affected if she had to move.  The ultimate short-term plan we came up with was that I'm going to have lunch with her once a week, which should take care of what seems to be her growing feeling that I am not there often enough and will also give me a better chance to assess how she's doing.

At noon, we went to Peach's favorite Mexican restaurant (yesterday Italian, today Mexican), and it was a nice lunch with a big bowl of delicious guacamole to have with our enchiladas and tacos.  She talked about how one of her concerns about Bob is that he has lost 25 lbs since his stroke a month and a half ago.  She says he's a meat 'n' potato guy and often doesn't like the kind of food he is getting.  She says she's going to start bringing him milk shakes when she goes to visit.

We decided to stop at McDonald's and get a shake and then drive over to the new place, so I could see where it is.  She mentioned that one of the biggest problems with it is that the parking lot is very small and it was often impossible to find a parking place, so I immediately invoked my parking angel and sure enough, when we arrived the lot was full, except for the one car that was just pulling out of a space right in front of the door.  Thank you, Gilbert. (Show-off.)

But Bob was asleep when we got there.  The new place is very nice.  I like it better than the old one.  In the old one the caretaker to patient ratio was 1 to 30.  In this place it's 1 to 8.  Bob also has a "babysitter" who stays in his room all the time, watching to be sure he doesn't fall out of bed (which he had done 3 times before she started watching him).  It's a nice job.  She sits there all day, with her smart phone, surfing the net and playing videogames.  That's a job I could handle!  But when he tries to get up, or has some other problem, she is right there to take care of him immediately.

Peach tried to wake him up and he did wake, a little, but was too sleepy to drink his milk shake.  She left me with him while she took the shake to the refrigerator and went to check on which meds he was being given.  I sat there while he slept and then suddenly he started to sit up, his eyes opened wide and he said, very clearly, "Well, HI, Bev!"  Then he told me that he had a new baby boy and he began to get very restive, pulling the bedclothes off and trying to get up.   Turned out he felt he needed to get to the bathroom, but his sitter was there to remind him that he had a catheter.  He relaxed, urinated and immediately was sound asleep again.

We didn't stay much longer, but left after Peach returned.  I dropped her off at her house and then drove on back home again.  I don't know why I was so exhausted when I got here, but went to sleep immediately and had a nap.  It wasn't really a long day, but it sure seemed like it.

A Movie! A Movie!

Alert the media!  We have seen a movie!  Our first in 2012 (and I daresay probably our last for this year!)

Walt asked if I was interested in seeing Lincoln this afternoon and I literally jumped at the chance.  I've wanted to see the movie ever since it came out.

We went at 3 p.m. and fortunately got there early enough to get my favorite seats, because within 10 minutes the theater, even this long after the movie's opening, was just about full.

I. loved. it.  As many have said, even though you know how things are all going to play out, Spielberg does such a masterful job that he creates great tension as everyone in the House chamber waits anxiously for the outcome on the vote on the 13th ammendment to the Constitution.  In listening to the arguments for and against, it made me think that this is probably similar to debates going on on many gay rights issues that have been debated in the House lately.

If Daniel Day-Lewis doesn't get an Oscar, he was robbed.  Sally Field may be up against some fierce competition, but she, too, gave a masterful performance in a role that, according to her, she had to really fight to get.  But having seen her performance, it's hard to imagine anyone else playing Mary Todd Lincoln.   As for James Spader as the scoundrel W.N. Bilbo, I didn't recognize him, but Walt did and said that with that cigar he frequently smoked, he needed William Shatner to be with him.

As always, we stayed through the credits.  If not, we never would have known that Ambassador Jean Kennedy Smith had a bit part as one of the "shouting women" in a scene.  Or that Kevin Kline--yes "the" Kevin Kline--was a "wounded soldier."  Now I want to see the movie again to see if I can spot those two!

It was a nice way to escape from all that's going on around here right now, if only for a few hours.

---

 
This morning I received a note from my cousin Donna, asking me to post the following information on the Caring Bridge site I set up to keep people informed about Bob's condition:

Dearest Family,
Our dear Bob is not doing as well as hoped. Peach has asked me to share this picture from Christmas of Bob and his beloved Sophie and to let you all know he does not have a lot of time left here with us, though it could be up to 6 months. Hes not really responsive and we need to send him our love and light and prayers and hope that the time he is here will be as gentle and easy and loving as he is and always has been. Please, if you want to contact Peach, do so through facebook or the Caring Bridge Page that Bev created. These are difficult times for the family and we all need to give as much support as possible in our own ways. We will keep you updated on what is going on, but for now please hold our family close in your hearts with love, especially our Peach and Bob.
Much love to all, and have a wonderful New Years
~ Donna

As soon as I had posted Donna's update to Caring Bridge I called Peach and we had a good conversation and cried together.  They are meeting to decide the way to go with him, whether hospice care or long-term care.  Hospice care seems out of the question since it would involve moving him home and Peach is just not physically able to care for him 24/7.
 
It's at times like this when I am angry with how our system works.  If this were Sophie, the dog, who were in this condition, Peach would hold her in her arms as a veterinarian gave her a shot which would let her peacefully leave this life.   But because Bob is a human being, there have to be decisions made about how to keep him as pain-free and comfortable as can be, while the family sits around watching him die.   Somehow it just doesn't seem fair...or humane.

I picked up e-mail after Peach and I finished our conversation and there was a note from one of the Lamplighters letting us know that someone we have known since the 1960s has been diagnosed with Stage 4, inoperable pancreatic cancer and is now on Hospice care.  She's a wonderful person, a wonderful actress and director and this will be a great loss to those who have been closer to her in the past couple of decades.

I also called my mother to give her the update on Bob.  I've talked with her three times since we got home from Santa Barbara on Wednesday and each time she asks me if we are home yet, when we got home, and if we had a good Christmas.  This has been another proof of the theory someone expressed to me that when someone with memory problems has another physical problem (she's had mild flu symptoms this week and just wasn't feeling well over Christmas), it affects the memory.  I am hoping that now that she is starting to feel better, her memory will improve a bit too, as it has in the past.

As soon as Peach feels she can take a day off, we are going to my mother's for another overnight.  Won't call it "cousins day," but I think she desperately needs both a day away, and a day with my mother, who has been her surrogate mother since her own mother died many years ago. She agrees.  But first all the paperwork needs to get done and Bob's situation needs to be settled.

The Cruel Brain

I don't remember how old my mother's mother was when she died.  Younger than my mother is now.  I also don't remember what year she died, but it must have been sometime between 1960 and 1962, because I remember the last time I saw her, my mother told her I was going to college.  I was going to be the first person in the family to attend college and though she could not talk by that time, she indicated that she was proud of me.

When I last saw her she was in a convalescent hospital, but she later had to be moved from there when she became aggressive.  This mild-mannered grandmother who even my mother didn't remember ever raising her voice or saying a bad word, began cursing other residents and being combative with everyone.

What happens to the brain when it snaps? What thoughts go through the brain when it doesn't work the way it has all of your life?

She was moved from the convalescent hospital to a mental hospital, which is where she died.  My mother often talks, with frustration even today, of going to visit her and being completely unable to understand what she was saying.  When my mother would arrive at the hospital, Grandma would be very excited to see her and begin chattering away trying to tell her lots of things.  My mother would sit there and say "Yes, Mom, I understand..." but my grandmother would realize that my mother did not, in fact, understand, and her excitement would beging to die, she would get depressed and indicate that she wanted to be taken back her room.

Whenever she tells that story, I wonder what exactly was going on inside Grandma's head.  Was she aware that she was not forming words?  Did she, in fact, have the words but be unable mechanically to form her mouth to speak them?  Might there have been another way of communicating with her, working to help her find a way to express herself?  

I don't remember how "with it" she was otherwise, so I still do wonder that, but I had a taste of my mother's frustration and helplessness today.

I drove over to see Bob this afternoon.  It's a nice drive, of just about an hour, which gives me an hour to listen to my audio book.  Peach had said she might be late getting there because she was waiting for a package she had to sign for.

Bob had been admitted back to the hospital earlier this week with what ultimately turned out to be a urinary tract infection.  Once they had his fever back down where it should be and his vitals stabilized, they returned him to the convalescent hospital.

When I arrived at his room, I was surprised to see that his bed had been lowered down as far as it would go, like a trundle bed.  He was also sleeping, and Peach was not there.

I had printed some photos yesterday and put them on a poster, thinking it might be a good thing to hang on his wall, so he could see familiar family faces when he looks at the wall.

Fortunately, I always have my Kindle with me, so I sat and read my book for about 30-40 minutes while Bob slept.  He might have slept the whole time, but someone came in to take his blood pressure and that woke him up.  He seemed disoriented for awhile but finally his eyes did seem to focus on me.  I said hello and told him who I was.   I don't know if he recognized me or not, but he eventually started talking, sometimes rather insistently, definitely making his point about...something, but unlike the last time we were there, when we could at least make out a word or two ("beer," for instance), I couldn't understand anything he said.

When it looked like he was focusing on my face, I tried showing him the photos, but he wasn't interested in looking at them, so I didn't push it, but left them there for Peach to do whatever she wants with them.  I tried to understand what he was saying, but he eventually, like my grandmother, stopped trying to talk.  Instead he rolled over on his side and tried to grab at the wall to pull himself up.  Peach says this is why his bed is on the floor, to prevent him from being successful in getting out of bed and breaking something.  The bed is right next to the wall on the side he was trying to get out, so he couldn't have anyway.

I tried moving pillows to make him more comfortable, but that didn't seem to be what he wanted either.  For one thing, it was clear at at this stage of his condition, there is not enough comprehension to even try to find another way to communicate with him, and I understood what my mother has been saying all these years.

About an hour after I got there, Peach still hadn't arrived, and Bob's brother and sister-in-law showed up to visit, so I told them I would let them have the visistor chairs and I would leave.  I got in the car and drove the hour back home again, thinking I hadn't really accomplished anything, and wasn't even able to be a support for Peach.   But I hope he knows that somebody (whether me or someone else) was there with him. 

It's the Waiting

It's the waiting, of course.  The early days when nothing substantative is happening, no prognosis is given and people are taking a "wait and see" stance.

It was announced on Facebook, so there is no point in being coy about it.  Peach's husband had a stroke yesterday afternoon.  

Thank God Peach knew exactly what to look for and what to do for it, so in the first hour, she had given him aspirin, called 911, and he was in the emergency room before that critical time had passed, giving him the very best possible chance.

He had lost the ability to name things (like a pen or a wristwatch) and ultimately he didn't recognize Peach.  CT scans showed bleeding in the brain, he was intubated and put in the ICU.  When I talked with Peach last night he had been sedated.  Her daughters were flying in from Iowa today, which they did, and her son was taking her to the hospital this morning.

I did a lot of googling about hemorrhagic strokes and found nothing good in the on-line literature.  This breaks my heart.  I think I've known Bob almost as long as I've known Peach.  She and I have photos of ourselves when we were babies and young girls, of course, but we didn't really become close friends until we started having summertime vacation exchanges, a couple of weeks at her house, a couple of weeks at mine, while her sister and my sister were doing the same thing in the opposite direction. 

The exchanges started when I was in grammar school.  Peach was dating Bob at that time.  The two have been inseparable for more than 60 years.   I was maid of honor at their wedding.

Everybody loves Bob and Facebook has been full of good wishes from all sorts of people.  Our kids called during the day to find out if there was news and I talked with my mother a few times during the day.  We seem to spend most of our conversations saying "Oh God!"

 

So it's the waiting and the being "here" while they are all "there" and knowing that they don't need anybody else "there" when there is nothing else that anybody can do to help.  If you are the praying sort, he'd sure appreciate your prayers.

I set up a Caring Bridge site tonight for people who aren't on Facebook because Bob never met a stranger.  He knew everybody, liked everybody, helped everybody and as word begins to leak out, everybody is going to want to know how he is doing.  I hope that someone in his immediate family will take over putting updates on the Caring Bridge site.

But in the meantime, life has to go on.  My friend Joan needed a ride to the eye doctor today and offered to take me to brunch for my chauffeur services (today and when I did it before).  We had a lovely brunch (eggs benedict) at Ciocolat, which is becoming one of my favorite Davis eateries, and then I took her to her appointment.  She suggested I might want to run errands and come back in an hour, but I was just as happy to have an excuse to sit and read my book (the latest Michael Connelly novel).

When I returned home it was almost time to go to Logos for the afternoon.  Instead of looking for a short book this time, I decided to start reading the book that our Book Club has chosen for February, Willa Cather's "My Antonia."

No way I could finish this ~400 page book in four hours, but I did finish the first section, and have the book on my Kindle, so can continue to read at home.

I called Peach before we went to the theater tonight and talked with her daughter, who says essentially that there is no change, but he seems to be trying to squeeze their hands.  I take that as a good sign.

We saw something called The Bacchae at the University, which was advertised as a Greek tragedy combined with rock and roll, but it seemed more like an audio book with cheerleaders.  I'm going to have to think about how I'm going to handle the review.

Tomorrow--and for too many tomorrows, I fear--there will be more waiting.  I hate this.  But then, it's not about me, is it.