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...

As we walked toward the hall I told him that he might be needing help sometimes, as he is getting weaker. "You're proud", I said. He nodded, sadly. "But pride goes before a fall." That brought a laugh.

He told Ella that I didn't want him taking a nap while I was there. That was so cute, and so tender. He lies a little bit, and I don't think it's completely unintentional! Off to the nap he went, none the less, and Ella and I got to have almost a solid hour to just talk. This is hard.

One thing Teepa Snow says, in her training for caregivers of those with Dementia, is that you should confess that to the person. "Honey, this is hard." Give them permission to also admit it IS hard. And then let your love give you enough strength to do it anyway.