Chapter 569 - All Twisted

 That's what she said, having partially finished breakfast at 0850, "I'm all twisted". Usual pump adjustments a little after 0600 when she did not fully wake, some dyskinesia came and then stopped. At 0730 I woke her to move her onto the commode then into the bathroom. She was slightly "dopey", mild dydkinesia, then onto the pedals until the Carer arrived, who hadn't been through our normal morning procedure so I gave instructions. This carer was the one that arrived the Sunday before last to see her in zombie mode.

Anyway, this morning during breakfast she was unable to position her dyskinetic legs comfortable, either up on the recliner, or hanging down, shoes on or off. She said "I want to lay down". I didn't debate whether on the wheel chair in reclined position or on her bed; I took her straight to bed where I positioned her on her RHS and covered with a blanket. After awhile the dyskinesia eased to nothing and she dozed by 0905. At 0940 she woke, needing the loo, very big stool, then out to finish some of her breakfast. She wasn't feeling any better.

Since my previous post I have been poorly, very tired, stressed and depressed. Perhaps initiated by corruption of my email account, probably due to my inattention to accumulating junk mail, in total over 30,000 messages at least 75% of which was unread. In the past year or so I have paid little attention to house-keeping. I was able to re-establish a working account on another machine. I lashed out buying another machine from my mate Bill, partly as a stimulant I suppose. The new machine is now in use, responding much better than the older constipated one which I will clean of unwanted software. As my technical problems decreased I began feeling better but with a way to go yet. Sunny spring weather has helped, allowing me to sit outside reading and listening to lectures. On last Friday during my respite period I called into the government place which handles driving licences to hand in my doctor's health check on me, even though he had submitted the data on line as well. He said things sometimes get lost so it's better to hand in the paper work as well. Well, I'm so glad I did because the woman who served me said I needed to take a driving test. "But I'm not 80 yet!" I exploded. "For this grade of licence a driving test is required at 80" she explained. Way back in 1996 or 7 when we lived in the desert country in the middle of the continent I had driven a 20 seater bus around the suburban streets which qualified me to drive said bus to and from an institution 25 kms out of town, and my licence was suitably endorsed. We now live 3 states away after that period in the centre and I feel sure sometime in changing state driving licences I had cancelled my licence endorsement to drive a small bus. The last thing I wanted was the stress and cost of passing an unwanted driving qualification, although I didn't tell the woman that, just that I didn't need such an endorsement on my licence, so she crossed out a few items on the form, gave me a receipt to cover me until a new licence was mailed to me, perhaps within two weeks. My licence renewal is due 2 days after my 80th birthday. It is not obvious to me on the form ( I had made a copy of it) that I had to take a driving test.

There are a few of her activities in the past fortnight I could describe but I will only mention one. During my respite on Friday she helped the Carer to learn to knit, although the difficulty was casting on rather than knitting as such. When I returned home the Carer had knitted quite a few inches whereas she had only cast on and was having problems with the first or second row; seemed to have a problem with a knot, which she had begun to pick at and the ball of wool was in a tangle on the floor . She continued yesterday, spending quite a few hours, morning and afternoon, pulling at the fibres in the strand of yarn, tearing small pieces away and making a heap on her table. When I asked why she did this she mumbled and continued with the pointless task. I left her to continue doing what was obviously of interest to her.

Addendum:

About 1145, although her legs were mildly dyskinetic, I asked whether she would like to go for what has become our Sunday lunch of fish and chips. She wanted to go. In the queue at the drive through the car was rocking in time with her dyskinetics. Down at the Weir they worsened so I decided we should go home, only a few minutes away. Our two slices of Mars Bar cheese cake, in a polystyrene box slid off the dash as I turned the corner onto the street; without damage fortunately. At home she ate one piece of fish and a few chips as well as two slices of lemon. In recent times she has taken a liking for lemon, eating all the flesh leaving just the skin. Her other piece of fish is in the fridge for her. She is now eating the cheese cake.The dyskinesia has lessened. I may take her out into the sunshine, no point in wasting it.