Chapter 508 - Loneliness

I go to sleep each night with an ear bud in my right ear listening to RN. A few nights ago I surfaced in the early hours listening to a discussion about loneliness, the words heard kept me awake for the following two hours, remembering my experiences of being alone. Strange to say I can only remember a few instances, none before marriage, just those times when I was away for short periods working and living in motel rooms for a week or two, or when she has been in hospital for a short while, when watching TV, going to movies or reading books filled my free hours until such activities became meaningless. Then I found aimlessly driving around was a most unsatisfying pursuit. And when she has been in hospital, or the one occasion we "experimented" with respite accommodation for her, I tended to fill my idle hours visiting her, collecting clothes to be washed and then returned, or visiting to ensure her PD meds were being taken or adjusted correctly. I just feel "at a loose end" at such times, times when I ought to unwind. Thinking on these matters will force me to ring some friends not heard from in many months. Her friends no longer ring her, some of whom used to spend ages on the phone to her; I think I can understand some reasons why, her voice has become muffled, she often bumps buttons disconnecting the calls, she has little knowledge about the comings and goings of our grand children to trade with others and is unable to answer questions about same, she is no longer able to do or discuss sewing projects. And of course, we no longer visit anyone because of steps, stairs, small toilet rooms and toilets without sturdy grab rails, and of course, distance. I promise myself I will begin making calls to close friends no longer so, tomorrow! Yes, that's me procrastinating again, reasoning that people have visitors or go visiting on the weekends. Surely, they are not in the same situations as we are?

Then about the same time the following morning RN had a discussion about Xmas. Although no one is aware, I am very emotional at Xmas even though I have become, over the years, disassociated from the beliefs, rituals, and modern Disney fairy stories about the non-historical event. I can't even call hypocrites those who participate in the rituals that have gradually morphed over centuries into modern day cartoon characters, exported as culture from a super power; for most have little understanding of the origins of the beliefs on which the modern day farce is based. Often at this time of year I reach for my aged copy of "Hilaire Belloc: An Anthology of his Verse and Prose" by W. N. Roughead and read "A Remaining Christmas" just to feel grounded in reality, although even this description of the event is based on myth, although having a sense of deeper, more meaningful beliefs, and that may be an insight why some ageing people are taken up with the solemnity, the mysticism, of Catholicism. Do not be concerned, I shan't be.

Years past when we temporarily moved West I took advantage of the Xmas commercial ritual to send cards to relatives and friends, all and sundry, just as a reason to keep in touch with hundreds of cards (that many? well probably some way short of 200). However once I retired and we returned East such a number of cards became quite a chore; we began to limit the number sent out, attempting to respond in kind to those sent to us. I particularly resented being "handed" un-stamped, un-addressed cards, in person, suggesting somehow that verbally expressed  "best wishes" required documentary proof.

To date we have only received 5 or 6 cards, possibly a larger bundle in the coming week. A few days ago I declared we would not send any. This morning I found her rustling through her box of cards left over from previous seasons and I weakened. I asked whether she wished to go down town to buy some more; "yes" was the answer so we did. Since she is unable to write well enough I will have to shoulder the task.

I returned her to 2 Symmetrel at approximately 0730 and 1930 each day as well as reducing her Duodopa from 5.5 to 5.0 mL. Although I suspect she may be "stiffer" in her movements I have not seen any real improvement in her dyskinesia. Two possible side effects may be: firstly, she is unable to feel for and find her hand operated brake levers with much success, even when I verbally direct her hands and instead she will rub her hands around the periphery of the wheels seemingly unable to figure out she needs to move her hands in a forward direction to grasp the brake handles; secondly, although she has always been afraid of the slightly sloped footpaths (toward the roadway) along the town's main street, this morning she was quite agitated whenever I had to wheel her down the curbs and across the intersections. Her fear was particularly pronounced at the entrance at the doorway to one of her favourite junk shops, yet not noticeable at the ramps inside two of the shops.