Chapter 153 - Just a Chore

Xmas has passed again. A few hours at Xmas lunch to see a little of some of the grandchildren, midst the bunch of outlaws. I always feel like the Anglo-Saxon parents in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" although the outlaws are no less Ocker than we are. Just that we intrude perhaps. She enjoyed the day, a stress-free trip.

She processed millions (it seemed) of Xmas cards by preparing address labels while I was called on to scribble the "to" and "from" inside cards displaying the usual junky graphics, quite meaningless really.

At her last leg dressing on Xmas eve they discussed whether to reduce the frequency to once each week; perhaps beginning tomorrow, Monday. We continue to have a shower ritual every second day or so when I place her leg in the elephant condom, roll it at the top, twist the slack and clamp with a clothes peg, then seat her on the commode chair to shower. She always begins lathering under her arms before the hot water comes through the shower head (which I try to point the other way so as not to make her cold). I asked this morning why she does that and she replied "I got used to cold showers being a Girls' Brigade captain at camp where the showers were always cold". I had thought only young blokes required cold showers. When the warm water arrives I spray all the lathered areas, including beneath the seat of the chair. Doing this adds meaning to that female expression "top and tail" when on camping holidays, definitely not what the average bloke does. One learns things so late in life. On these shower mornings she also washes her hair. This requires the use of her "hat", a towelling contraption placed on the head, then twisted and latched into position with a button.

In the past, she would never venture anywhere in the house without her old sloppy slipper-like shoes which gave her a sense of stability. On the last few shower mornings she scampered from the bathroom quite starkers, except for the "hat", and without shoes. When I queried this behaviour she said "Yes, I feel more stable now". And some weeks ago when I commented about leaving the bathroom without being attired in a minimal amount of underclothes she said that after awhile a sense of modesty disappears. And to think we have only been married for 45 years.

When we are shopping she often chooses food stuffs intent on later preparing something special. Usually these specials remain forgotten in the cupboard. Not the last, which was a tin of tuna and a few other things to make a tuna casserole, because last evening she decided to actually make it. She even chopped up the onions. When she became bent and her back ached, she asked me to wrap an elastic girdle thing around her waist. It does up with Velcro. As I was fighting with this very wide rubber band a neighbour looked in at our kitchen window , which faces the street. Perhaps his face naturally displays a surprised expression.

Since she coped with the first embroidery lesson she seems willing to attempt more stitch-outs. This is to be encouraged. She was rather protective of her large machine while I needed to use it to complete an assignment after mine lost control of its top tension. Sort of incontinence in an embroidery machine I suppose.

We were able to make an appointment to see the GP who gave her a prescription for 1mg Sifrol which she breaks in half so she now takes 500ug of Sifrol at 6am, noon & 6pm, each with a Sinemet CR from Tuesday 16th December. There have been no sudden remarkable side effects. Most of her nights are broken by repeated cycles of tremor, attempts to roll over then a need for the 'loo. Saturday morning yesterday is a bad example; to the 'loo at midnight, 2:30, 3:30, 4:30, 5:00, 5:30 and 6am. Yet last night only at 12:30am & 3:30am.

She is beginning an embroidery stitch-out, so I must go to check.

Chapter 152 - Life Becomes Flat & Dull

Our lives have rutted, in the way of a path I mean. Grey, non-active. Apart from selecting which type of garbage bin to put out each week our most regular activity is attending the Procedures Rooms for dressing changes on Mondays and Thursdays and Physio also Mondays. I asked the surgeon on Monday "How much longer?" "Slower than we had hoped; probably by Xmas" he replied as he screwed up his face in concentration "Slow but we're making progress." So I rang my eye specialist, well his reception people he had said would ring me early this week but didn't, and made an appointment to be in his rooms at 7:30 one morning in mid-January. We will stay three nights in a nearby motel where corporate rates are offered to patients. The specialist's scheduling lady will send me a quotation for the work to be done; I do hope our private fund will be understanding about this; corporate rates and quotations suggest a degree of "up-marketishness".

Early in the week parcels for the embroidery course we have embarked upon (I encouraged rather than pushed her, or as she says "bullied") arrived. After some initial stress she has completed the introductory reading material & on-line "games". Both embroidery machines in her sewing room were chattering away yesterday, one producing Xmas card designs, the other making some lace. The latter frustrated her more than a little because registration problems caused holes on the first two attempts, almost 3 hours each.

The Physio has told her to use her walker around the house - she mostly does. Her right knee is "getting better" but still hurts when getting into bed. She wants to see our GP for advice on increasing meds but can't see him before he goes on holidays on 12th January unless there is a cancellation; she was advised to ring each morning an 8am to check. I tell her that she knows more about medicating herself for PD than he does, yet I think she needs some bedside manner, stuff which he mostly lacks.

Xmas cards roll in from every which where. She began making address labels, as I said some embroideries for a special few, maybe they won't be sent. I think I will have to dedicate some hours to hurriedly scribbling names & comments to dispense the task before the cards are too late for this festive period. I wouldn't object so much except that the sense of compulsion makes the act of sending messages of peace & goodwill just a sodding chore.

Just a scrooge & grey at this time of year.

I just went over the last 10 or so posts because she told me I had spelt "Sifrol" incorrectly. She had been searching for information on side effects and found that Google kept offering her hits on "Sofril" which she says is something to spray on paddocks. I think all the typos have been corrected now. She normally avoids reading these bits I post; like others, she says I say more than others need to know. Others? No I'm just whimpering into a vastness, where I dispose of things inside me.

Chapter 151 - Going Nowhere

A fortnight of very little, she attends the clinic to have her leg dressed on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes the surgeon is there; they seem satisfied with the progress of the healing. Meanwhile she has little exercise other than the physio Falls Group on Monday afternoon. Last Sunday the dressing became wet when water seeped into the leg condom while she showered so we had to blow hot air on the area to dry it - she noticed that her toes on the left became slightly blue; the nurse passed that off next day as probably "a small clot".

Her sleep was very interrupted so on Monday 24th November she began taking a Sinemet CR around midnight or whenever she woke. That has helped. Then on Tuesday 2nd December she took an extra half Sifrol at noon then increased every dose. So she is now taking 1.5 S + 1CR at 0600, 1200 & 1800, 1 Inderal at 1800 and 1CR around midnight.

During this week she was motivated enough to embroider some Xmas designs for cards. An on-line course has just started (we are part of beta testing for it) and she became stressed navigating through the introductory material; of course I hardly help because I become very uptight while trying to help her. Just like teaching one's wife to drive. The intention is not to be harsh & critical, it just turns out that way. Is it because a person so close is treated much the same as oneself?

She often uses her meal tray walker when moving around the house to reduce the feeling of falling backwards.

On Thursday I had to attend the eye specialist visiting Hot Air City. We had lunch afterwards at the hospital's cafeteria. She had a container of steamed vegetables. On the return trip she asked for a crushed ice flavoured drink she saw advertised outside the service station I refueled at. We were home late afternoon not intending to have a proper evening meal. By 1800 she felt unstable, nauseous, light headed and needed food so she asked for a banana in custard followed by raisin toast. A couple of hours later she was feeling weak, "touchy and queasy" in the stomach, sweating when she realised her sensations were similar to what she experienced after a Chinese meal two years ago. Was there MSG in the vegetables she ate on Thursday? It has taken several days for her to feel better.