Take a Hike!

Well, a short walk, anyway. The University of California reports that taking  a short walk after each meal may be more effective in controlling blood sugar in people with prediabetes, than taking one long walk each day. Since a short walk is easier for your elderly loved one, anyway, give this a try! Just a little, 15-minute walk after breakfast, lunch, and dinner will go a long way in enhancing your elder's health.

Do they use a walker? As their caregiver, watch the way they're walking with that walker. Do they look down at their feet, or the path ahead? Point out interesting sights that require they straighten up and lift their torso and head. "Look at the huge crow in that tree, Dad!" is received far better than 'My gosh, Dad! Stand up straight!"


If your elderly loved one has recently suffered a stroke, you probably have some physical therapy exercises which have been prescribed. The after-meal walk may be a good time to work a few of those in! Find a stable surface such as a picnic table or retaining wall that's at the correct height. Look at page 57 of this guide for two easy exercises they may try, if approved by their health care provider. Doing these while on a walk will probably be much more pleasant than doing them in the home. Do the exercises with your loved one, unless you need to provide support, such as keeping a grip on a gait belt.

Why you should help your elderly loved ones go nuts

Walnuts, I mean.

If you're looking for something to have around for your elderly loved one to snack on that requires no preparation and is easy to grab, think of going nuts.

I've got other healthy snack and meal ideas for you, but I was reading this today and thought I'd pass it along. Here's the source: Science Daily 

The article states: "Years of research by scientists around the world link regular consumption of small amounts of nuts or peanut butter with decreased risk of heart disease, certain kinds of cancer, gallstones, Type 2 diabetes, and other health problems."

A serving, however, is about 7 walnuts. Not 7 dozen. Try offering 2-3 walnut halves with a mug of tea for an afternoon treat. Herbal tea, maybe with a little honey and/or lemon, will assist in hydration as well. 

Vascular Dementia

That's the name they have put on Don, to explain what's going on in his brain. Here is the information I have been reading.   This diagnosis hit Ella hard.

When I arrived today she was in her PJ's and robe, which is absolutely unlike her. She didn't want lunch. She was almost snippy with me, which is also very much not like her. I think the stress of this situation is breaking her down as quickly as Don is failing.

Don, however, was quite cheery and happy to see me. He had just had a shower, and was looking fresh and bright sitting in his recliner. We chatted for a while and he was very lucid. Ella seemed to want to fuss about this, which was strange. She showed me what she wanted me to do today. It was 100% housework. I'm not a housekeeper. I'm a caregiver. But the normally very neat house was a disaster, and I was to correct that. There were beds to strip and re-do, kitchen cabinets to scrub inside and re-organize, vacuuming, dusting, floor care, laundry, ironing, and garbage and recycle, as well as cleaning both bathrooms. The whole house, in other words. We've got to have a talk!

I got it done, and had a little time to interact with Don. Ella is SO stressed out, that I think she panics him. She speaks quickly, and in staccato tones, rapid-fire. I think this overwhelms him. At every opportunity, Ella reminded me that Don was "not good". I want to correct her, and say this doesn't have to be so hard. She can relax.

It's true that Don requires constant supervision now. As soon as I arrived, he stood up and said that he wanted to go and get the lawn mower. I told him that, thankfully, the cold weather has slowed the growth of the lawn so he gets a break! "I need a break" he replied. True words, Don. We talked about the bird feeder, the aggressive Stellar's Jays, and how birdseed sprouts, before Ella interrupted us and made me go to work being a housekeeper.

Don has started to pace, nervously. He looks out the window, but doesn't know what he's looking for. If I were free to be the caregiver that I am, I would walk with him, and we would talk about what is out there.

When I was done with my huge list of "to do", I told Don I would be getting out of his hair now. He remembered that I had a lot of people coming for dinner on Thanksgiving, and commented on that. Then he said, unexpectedly, "Have you got a minute?"
"Sure, Don. What's up?"
"I'm supposed to give you something."
We walked into the mudroom, where their freezer is. He opened it and got out a little plastic dish of applesauce, that said "October, 2013". He smiled as he handed it to me. I thanked him profusely. This was very special.

Hugs all around, and then as I was walking toward the door Ella said "You know that's probably the last applesauce he will ever make." Yes.... wow. I almost didn't want to take it. But this tall, handsome, soft-spoken man offered me what he had to offer. Applesauce. We'll enjoy it during Thanksgiving, and think of him.
"Bye bye!" he called cheerfully. "Have a great Thanksgiving!"

I really think that those with this type of Dementia respond to stress by being confused. But I'm not a scientist. Just a caregiver. And, evidently, a housekeeper.

The phone call

My phone rang this evening. It was Ella.

As cheerfully as she could, she explained that the two daughters have made so much food for them in the last few days, that I will not have to prepare lunch or dinner tomorrow. She gave me the heads up because I often stop and bring them something, or make something at home for them.

He had his brain scan.

It's not good news. He has a very rapidly progressing Dementia. Of course it was suspected, but now they have this diagnosis to hang on it. Does it change things? No. But it answers the question.

"Do you still want me to come tomorrow?" I asked her.

"YES!" she said. Oh, joy, I get to deep clean.... woo. But I'm looking forward to the day, anyway. It will be a shorter day than usual.

Come and tell me goodbye...

I'm sure she told him that it was Friday, which would mean that "Ruth is coming today." I was greeted very happily by both of them.

There was a list ready, of things they wanted me to do. One of the daughters was there, and I got the feeling that family was going to be drawing  even closer now. I brought them Chinese food for dinner, and hard boiled eggs from my neighbor, Michael's, chickens. I made them egg salad sandwiches for lunch, and suggested that they sit at the table, as a family, while I started the chores on my list. He, alone, is unaware that I am suggesting this because each day may be the last. The daughter was distracted, making calls to, and waiting for calls back from, the Neurologist. The rapid, rapid decline is alarming. I get that. They would like an answer. Sadly, I don't think they will like the answer they get.

Standing - Not so easy anymore

They're happy for Tuesdays and Fridays. Those are the days I come and spend time at their home, doing chores, cooking, baking, and watching. I watch, and listen, to Don. His decline is alarming. Ella left him for a short time on Tuesday, to attend a funeral. He is no longer comfortable in crowds, as he becomes confused and cannot carry on a conversation. He did stay in the house this time, though.

Ella and I discussed some activities which may help him hang onto memories for a bit longer - like browsing through family photo albums. They did that while I made dinner and did the laundry. I could hear her cheerfully talking about each photo and trying SO HARD not to say "Remember", but failing miserably. It was okay - I could tell he enjoyed the trip down memory lane. It did exhaust him, however, and she encouraged him to go back and take a short nap. I saw her attempting to coach him on how to stand up from the couch. She is still using a cane, and should be using a walker, according to her surgeon, following hip surgery.

I came in and cheerfully said "Oh, this is my department!" I sat down beside him on the couch, and both told, and showed him, how to scoot his bottom up to the edge of the couch to prepare to stand. He cooperated, but was a little bit confused. So I deployed the elbow grabbing method to help him stand. I reach out with my right hand toward their left hand. I grasp behind their elbow and have them grasp behind mine. With him in the correct position, with "nose over toes", we rise without a problem. Stand and get the bearings for a moment...

"I'll just go to the store and buy you some.... whatever it is we're looking for."

They say it's not Alzheimer's. It's some form of Dementia, though, and it's rapidly taking the man everyone knows and admires away. I refuse to let this happen, on my watch, without grace and humor.

Tuesday Ella decided that I should clean the oven racks with oven cleaner, and set the automatic clean cycle on the oven.The only oven cleaner I could find was the super cheap stuff I'd brought from home to clean the gas stove grates. It wasn't working.

"I know you've got 'Easy-Off' here somewhere," I told her. There was that day, a few weeks ago, that Don had applied it to an insect sting or bite. We searched in vain. Don got actively involved in the search. "You brought it up from the shed" I told him. (The word "remember" is stricken from our vocabulary when dealing with any kind of memory issue or Dementia, or Alzheimer's) He decided we should go to the shed, and he showed me the little key house where the keys are kept. Once in the shed, which was wide open and unlocked already, he began searching the shelves. "What does it look like?" he asked. "Blue can - and a lid like a paint can lid" I said. He handed me the Carburetor cleaner. "Hmmm," I said, "if my carburetor has a problem I'll be sure and ask for this!" He laughed, shook his head, and put it back. This was repeated with the oil, some various bug sprays, and garden supplies. I assured him it was not in the shed, but that it was fortunate we came down there, as the door was open and unlocked. He is so unsteady on his feet. As we left the shed he confided in me; "They won't let me work in the yard anymore." I'm telling you - if you want to be a caregiver you may have a heart that's a mile wide, but you can't cry at the wrong time. "I know," I said. "That's a pain, huh?"  He's shuffling now, walking toward the house. "Yes, it's a pain."

"You know what's behind that, though, Don? The real reason they said that to you?"
"No."
"Well - the truth is - they care about you."
"Yes, yes, I know that's true."

We got back in the house and he relentlessly searched high and low for that item. By this time he had completely forgotten what he was looking for, but he was on a mission. All cabinets, shelves, nooks and crannies were searched. Finally he came to me in the kitchen, eyes downcast.

"I just can't find it."
"It's okay, Don - I made do with the cheap stuff. It's totally okay."
"HEY! I'll go to the store and buy some... whatever it is we're looking for... for you!"
I look into his eyes, and say very gently, "Sir, it's absolutely okay. There is no need for you to go and do that for me."

The car keys have been hidden from him for months. He will never drive again, and I know this, but there is no way he knows this.

I wrapped up my work day, ending with preparing them a dinner they'd enjoy together, in private, later.

Sometimes when I'm leaving the house I want to hug him for a long time and take in that spirit. I truly never know when it will be the last time he will remember me, or even the last time he'll be there. Our farewells are always so cheerful, and hopeful. "I"ll see you Friday!" he says, with a big smile.