Chapter 73 - Speed on Wheels

Down to Hot Air City on Thursday to collect her scooter. We probably dived in the deep end because we went over to one of the larger shopping centres for a trial run for an afternoon of shopping. She had looked forward for so long to independently browse the shops without my help. Me too, as I had a gift voucher & award points in my pocket for a book I am sure many we know would consign to hellfire & ashes if they caught me reading it. Things didn't turn out that way. She quickly found that pedestrians did not care, just walked in front of the scooter; scared her repeatedly, one fat woman laughed at her, "Saying you missed me!" maybe as a joke. She baulked at attempting the moving walkway up to the level of the bookshop so I hurried up there, found my book on the "Latest Releases" shelf, paid for it with only a little real cash & returned to her parked against a wall (a case of "bookshopus interruptus", most unsatisfying to say the least). Then into a supermarket to buy a few food items. Then we escaped homewards. I must say driving around that city with GPS is to be recommended, since the place was designed with politicians in mind unable to lie straight in bed or perhaps my sense of direction is failing.

In early evening she decided we needed the supermarket again. I sat outside reading my book; she zipped around inside. Several kind people helped gather things for her. The scooter basket is small yet deep enough to lose her mobile phone within. Fortunately I looked up just as she neared a checkout. The day stressed both of us; bed was welcoming, yet still at our usual late hour.

Friday being the day we celebrate the rape & pillage of our (is it really?) sunburnt land we had friends over to a snag sizzle and they shared a bottle of red stuff, pear flan with us & we in turn cheap cask plonk and cheese etc. She was uncomfortable & stressed all day. I don't think she had slept well. Her tremors failed to let up all day. She had agreed for us to gather with a tribe of other villagers in the once grassed area where now there are more ants than grass leaves. She proudly drove her scooter the 100 yards then used it as her seat. She said later "I would not have gone if I didn't have the scooter." So the wheels are already of benefit to her. However, being sociable did nothing for her tremors (not obvious, she attempts to control them, makes matters worse) and by late evening her lower back was giving her hell. She shuffled stooped around the house. Seated on the side of her bed sometime late, I attached the TENS machine electrodes to her lower back. Some relief. Around 2 am she called out; she had her old problem where she was sure her feet were extending over the edge of the bed; from my viewpoint they weren't but I pushed her knees an inch or two towards the centre of the bed. "Perhaps my head needs to be closer to the edge" she suggested. I pulled her shoulders a little. Later she called out in her sleep a few times. Somewhen her legs ached from trying to separate them. I moved the upper leg, her left a little "That OK?" "Much better", we slept.

Chapter 72 - The Fright of My Life

Last night, as usual, I staggered off to bed before she did. She was still watching plastic grass grow on the centre court. About 1am a disturbance partially wakened me from the middle of a dream, which can't be remembered although the disturbance "fitted into" the plot of the dream; I remember that. Then half wake, I was shocked from fuzziness by a scream suitable for a red-skin war cry from an old Hopalong Cassidy movie. Something like "Looly-oo-loo-lah" shouted into the darkness of our bedroom. "Are you OK?" I yelled in turn. "I've fallen out of bed" she replied. As I sat bolt upright I saw her in a normal position on her bed, covered by a sheet (warm humid night). "You're OK; you're still in bed!" I replied. "I must have been dreaming" she mumbled as we both returned to sleep; a wonder we ever did so.

This morning 6am meds, then showered & dressed herself a little after 7am. Only my bra hitching skills were needed. However, by 1pm she was falling asleep in her chair so she has taken herself off to bed; to be woken by tremors or me at 2pm for more meds.

Chapter 71 - Contrasts

Yesterday I needed to take the vehicle down town for a brake repair. So she rose at 7am after the early morning med kicked in, showered, dried & dressed herself (except for the bra clip) so that she could be up & about before 8am for which time I had made the repair booking . She had a good day on the whole, mainly watching the tennis (in my opinion that is really mental torture; the cousins should use it at their non-Geneva Convention Centres). We walked around the village about 10pm and she was still watching ping-pong games when I went to bed at midnight.

This morning 6am meds as usual. She was groggy on her feet. I let her sleep until 8:30am when she CB'd me. Helped her to the shower. Then dried her and dressed her. Everything, except the buttons on her blouse. Although before dressing her the TENS machine was applied to her upper left leg which has developed a pain down its length.

A couple of days ago we bought a support glove for her wrist and thumb. TENS got rid of pain up her right arm but not at the base of her thumb. This new gadget supports the thumb, preventing much movement in it when she attempts to push herself up from a seated position.

Perhaps you suggest she go to bed early? No good, her tremors wake her; she has to take meds at midnight to last the distance.

Day by day, that's life.

Chapter 70 - A Bend in the Road

This morning the 6am alarm failed to wake her until I called out. She turned it off. A little later I realised she had not taken her Madopar Rapid. I called repeatedly before she woke, sat up, needed help to put her feet on the floor. She needed her shoes as always. I lifted her with the belt. Standing, her feet were close together as usual, glued to the floor. "I can't lift my right foot", she said. Still holding her, I wobbled her a little. She concentrated. Slight movement of the leg. "Let me stand in front & hold hands" I suggested. Over what seemed like ages, she moved her right foot slightly, then the left. After a few shuffling steps I was able to let go; she maintained her balance, I wondered whether there was a slight drag of her right foot. Returned from the loo she stood there beside the bed, bending & leaning on it. I left my bed to lift her right knee onto her bed; she tumbled in; she settled. A little later I found her sitting on the side of the bed, puzzled "My leg has feeling in it but it doesn't want to move." She attempted to get back into bed; I needed to lift her right knee again. She was on her right side facing me. "I can't get comfortable until my legs are separated." Her legs were already apart. I told her so. "They must be separated at the top" she said. I bent her left knee a little bit more. "I think I'll lay here a bit" as I left her holding her forehead, looking dreamy. Fifteen minutes later I returned to find her on her left side, dozing. She twisted onto her back. "You looked dreamy before" I mentioned. "I was wondering what was happening." She sleeps now.

Chapter 69 - Some Mornings

She called me on the CB. I found her stooped in the bath room. She had just showered, "I can't dry my bottom to put my pants on." I dried her. "I think I need the machine on my back." I helped her, dressed only in her shoes, back to the bed room where I sat her on her towel on the bed. I attached the TENS machine to her lower back, then tidied the bathroom. When I returned she had her bra on although I had to clip it at the back. I left to make a cup of tea. On my next return she had her blouse on. She abhors nakedness. After fifteen minutes on the machine I threaded her pants over her feet. Of course, that required removal of her shoes. When I went to help her stand by placing the lifting strap around her she cried out "I must have my shoes on!" Shoes on, she stood, I pulled up her pants, she sat down, shoes removed, I threaded her slacks over her feet, shoes back on, I assisted her to stand, pulled up her slacks. The day has begun. "I wanted to dust today" she says.

Most mornings start slowly. Some slower than others.

Chapter 68 - Worried

Last Sunday we missed church, well 15 minutes late we drove into the car park full of vehicles. She declined to enter a crowded church to be jammed onto the end of a pew. So we U-turned & did some shopping instead. We would have been at church on time even though we rose late, even though she needed help drying after her shower & with dressing, except her back was "thick" and difficult to straighten so she was relieved with an application of the TENS machine for 15 minutes.

We had dinner at the club with a large number from our village then afterwards at our hall for New Year celebrations. We left a little before midnight; her meds were due. Not tired, wide awake, she went to bed at 1am.

On Monday family were passing through on their way to holiday on the Apple Isle. She had volunteered morning tea for them. It was good to see the kids briefly. Then to our village's "First of the Month" lunch in our hall. Will this social whirl never stop? Early evening she declared that "I feel best since last Thursday."

She showered & dressed herself on Tuesday. After lunch we drove to the Upper-crust town in the highlands to look at mobility scooters. There was only a small range at the outlet there; she test drove a couple until drizzly rain forced us inside. The man intends to get in on spec a 4 wheel version of the only suitable small scooter he had. But his price is a bit high & we may not return. Some coffees at the arches place on the return trip.

We attended the small quilting group restarted for the new year at our village hall on Wednesday evening. She was not really up to attending, had no work she could take that she was able to cope with; even so, I encouraged her to go to have social contact.

Thursday saw us attempting a mango ice-cream project promised for a Saturday lunch at our friends around the bend (geographically speaking). Kitchen activities cause her to stoop, her back gives her hell. I stepped outside to place the garbage bin on the street, spent a few minutes talking to the bloke across the street. Only a couple of minutes without my CB radio around my neck. I returned to find her crying, not knowing where I was, in pain in her chair. Then we failed to follow instructions for the ice-cream machine, the liquid froze, the bowl would not turn, so the thing had to be washed & re-frozen. Left for Friday.

She showered on Friday and needed some help dressing. In the afternoon the ice-cream was made. The damned machine has something wrong with it to cause it to jam, so we had to hold it together by hand - 15 minutes is a long time when waiting. We have entered a bad cycle where both of us have been going to bed around 1am. This night I flaked around 10am, then lay awake for several hours early morning.

In the kitchen on Saturday morning I found the tell-tale signs that another bowl of ice-cream mixture had been made. Sometime around 1am I learned when she woke. For the first time in ages she needed to sit in her shower chair to shower. I left her alone in the bathroom, made sure I had my CB radio with me and retired to my dungeon to read what is going wrong with the world. Discovered that MS have some useful tools available, began downloading then realised I had heard nothing from the bathroom. I entered to find her sitting in her chair beneath the shower, unable to reach either her towel or her CB. She was upset. I dried her while she hung for grim death onto the towel rails. In the bedroom she clung to the wardrobe shelves while I dressed her. Do all males have trouble with that harness-like object called a Bra? She giggled while telling me "That piece goes to the bottom on the outside." She returns to seriously hanging onto the wardrobe shelves. Dressing finished I helped her to her chair where she finished drying her hair in the towelling pointed hat (the shape of the helmets used by racing cyclists). Lots of instructions about what to put away.

Visiting our ex-next-door-neighbour in the retirement home just before Xmas has focused her attention on what will happen when I "go". Uppermost in her mind is the lack of privacy, how she will cope without her own facilities in a private bathroom, needing assistance with showering, drying & dressing. And the cost of battery-hen accommodation. For her sake I hope I do last at least a little while longer.

She is worried; most unlike her.