View From My Window

Tuesday, September 27, 2022 — The end of yet another day. I had to put the car in the shop today to get the front bumper repaired. I backed out a bit crooked on Sunday morning and the bumper caught on the concrete curb, popping the bumper off on the driver’s side. It’s a 2001 Honda Civic with over 260k miles on it so I didn’t want to get carried away with costly repairs. The guy at the body shop suggested that he glue the bumper back into position since it only lost one bolt and the rest of the bumper just snaps on. He showed me how it would look after being glued and it looked fine to me so I told him to go ahead. I told him I’d take the car back home, get my neighbor to bring me back and he could have the car for the hour or two that it would take to make the repair. After going back home and getting a ride back to the body shop to drop off the car, I felt kind of good about handling the repair situation on my own. Sure enough, an hour and a half later, the phone rang and it was the body shop, saying my car was ready. Cost: $80 for one hour of labor and I know the guy had a really difficult time charging me that much for just a simple ‘glue job’ but I didn’t have anyone to fix it, and I for sure couldn’t do it, so it was money well spent.

When my neighbor dropped me off, for whatever reason, I confessed to her that there were times when I felt that it would be wonderful to live in a room somewhere, where I would be cared for and not have to do anything or worry about anything. I told her that I began thinking of the things I had to do and said I realized I would have to do most, if not all, of the things if I were to live alone, so I just needed to ‘suck it up’ and get it done.

Last night, Robert spilled a cup of hot coffee all over himself and the chair. He does o.k. in the mornings, but towards late afternoon/evening, he loses control of his hands–if he’s holding something, it just drops. I cleaned the chair as well as I could and today called and arranged for an upholstery service to come and give me an estimate for cleaning our furniture. They’ll come tomorrow after 4 p.m. Unless their price is way out of line, I’m inclined to have them clean everything. I’m going to check to see if they clean rugs as the oriental rugs need cleaning too.

He has an appointment with the neurologist on Thursday. I made the mistake of telling him about it yesterday, and big as life, first thing this morning he asked me what time we would have to leave today to get to the dr’s appt. on time. I had to tell him it wasn’t until Thursday and today was only Tuesday. Later on, he asked again and I calmly repeated what I’d said earlier. I think about the changes that have taken place with him and know I should make a list to give to the dr.

Today was trash day, so last night I collected all of the trash throughout the house and put it in the cans, ready to be put out this morning. When I went to bed, I set the alarm clock for 7:30 a.m. so I could get up and put the cans out. As I came back to the house after setting the cans out, I bent down and retrieved Robert’s morning newspaper. By this time I was wheezing really bad so made it to the office and began an inhalation treatment. My mind wandered to the question of how I could hire someone to come and put our cans out each week. When I got out of bed this morning, Robert woke enough to ask me where I was going and when I said I was going to put the trash out, he said ‘then I’ll stay right here.’ He promptly went right back to sleep. I’m thinking this task has now become my task. But as I said before, if I were living alone, I’d still have to put the trash cans out — maybe not every week, but I’d still have to do it, so why cry about something you’d have to do anyway?

I’ll need to let the neurologist know about Robert’s hallucinations. This morning he looked out the office window and said, “There’s a man down there with a white horse.” I got up and looked out the window and didn’t see it. I got the binoculars and looked again–nada, nothing. Next thing you know, Robert says, I don’t know where they went but they were right there. He’s forever seeing things on the floor–especially ants (he has a thing about ants and the other day as he woke from a nap, he said he saw ants all over everything.) He’ll see spots in the wood flooring and have to bend down and touch them, trying to feel them or pick them up. His depth perception is bad in the evenings, and he always stops and steps over thresholds instead of stepping on them. I know his dementia is progressing and he realizes it. This past Sunday we went to breakfast with the Tuesday crew and their wives–first time in over 2 years. When we got back home, Robert asked me how he did — did he make sense when he talked? Did anyone say anything to me about him? I told him no, and I thought he did fine. Friends did actually ask me how he was and I said that in the mornings, he was fine but by late afternoon/evening, he was having difficulties. He’s very frail anymore, and friends did notice that he’d lost a lot of weight. His appetite has definitely changed and food just doesn’t taste good anymore. I think he no longer enjoys eating like he used to. Now it’s a chore for him. :/

Well, enough of my whining… please know that I appreciate that you are here in my life. Be safe, take good care of yourself and please tell those you love that you love them.

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About tehachap

Happily married and retired, my hobbies are quilting, reading and anything to do with trains (watching, photographing and running them in our G scale garden railroad). My husband and I have truly enjoyed our retirement, and have fulfilled one of our primary goals in life and that is to own a home overlooking train tracks so we can watch trains 24/7. We are sincerely blessed in this life.
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10 Responses to View From My Window

  1. cacjjc says:

    This is such a difficult road you and Robert are traveling. Your description of Robert’s hallucinations reminded me of my Dad, who had Lewy Body dementia. Be sure to mention the hallucinations to the neurologist.

    It’s a lonely journey, and a long one. You are faced with the challenge of being responsible for everything, when before it was a shared responsibility with Robert. This is a big burden to carry, and I’m hoping that you are getting enough support.

    Take good care Carol.

    Carole

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  2. Dan Antion says:

    You are on a difficult road, Carol. It does help to realize that these things need to get done, one way or the other. I like the body shop guy you took your car to. There were many ways he could have taken advantage of you in that situation. An hour’s worth of labor seems fair. Glue is never just glue. It always involves pulling things apart to clean the surfaces and testing that everything will fit. I hope the visit on Thursday goes well.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. dkzody says:

    Definitely a hard place. Yes, a smaller place would help as there would be less work, but the work probably keeps you active and engaged. Better than just sitting. We continue to wait on more news from Terry’s rounds of testing. The last one, a liver biopsy, came back with more baffling information that will require another PET scan with a different dye to look for a very obscure cancer. This all has him withdrawn and pondering. He feels good, looks good, but the not-knowing causes frustration.

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  4. Ellen Abbott says:

    I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you. I hope you have the possibility of taking some time out for yourself now and then.

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  5. 67andgood says:

    I am sure you are mentally exhausted, not to mention physically. I wish you had someone who could come a few hours each week to give you a break. You do everything you can to anticipate issues and keep life as calm as possible for Robert.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Cop Car says:

    You introduced us/me to the “When Dementia Knocks” blog, so I’m pretty sure that you’ve seen Dr. Eshbaugh’s latest posting, “You Are Going To Mess This Up”. If not, it’s worth going to read.
    I surely recognized your comments on letting Robert know too soon about an appointment and taking over tasking that had previously been his. It’s a trade-off figuring out whether it is better to have meaningful tasks to keep you engaged or to have unfilled time on your hands if you don’t have that responsibility.
    Good luck with your & Robert’s health issues and living situation.

    Liked by 1 person

    • tehachap says:

      Hi… yes, I do still read her blog and caught the latest one. It helped put a bit of confidence back in me as things had begun to pile up on me. Sometimes it’s all I can do to get through the days and other days things just seem so laid back and normal. Live for the normal!!! LOL

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  7. Joanne Noragon says:

    Sometimes I wonder how we were dealt life’s hands. Please keep caring for Robert AND yourself.

    Liked by 1 person

    • tehachap says:

      Amen. I’ve often wondered that myself. Physically, my biggest problem anymore is my breathing, which wasn’t all that great before the defibrillator was installed, but now it’s even worse. Not a happy camper here. Healing hugs to you… I feel for you–truly!

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