The apple didn't fall far from the tree, and neither did he...

He's a hard working guy, even after multiple heart attacks and strokes. And even though Dementia is starting to creep in and steal his memory, he becomes very focused on a task that grabs his attention.

One day when I came to their home, I mentioned that the neighbor had a tree just full of apples which I would love to harvest for the horses of a friend of mine. He kept that in mind.

On Friday as I was working in the kitchen, I watched Don working in his back yard. I had this "feeling", and was more vigilant than usual. Suddenly I realized he was not by the shed any more. Remembering the spider bite day, I became concerned. I went out to the yard, and looked everywhere, but he was not there. Then I had this idea... 

The apples.

I looked across the street, and sure enough, there was his red wheelbarrow. But no Don. I literally ran across the street, calling for him. I heard a faint reply, but didn't see anything. My heart sank when I looked behind the tree and saw this proud man, lying on his back, knees bent, legs and arms shaking.



I assessed the situation and determined he most likely had not bumped his head, or hurt his back. I asked "Are you hurt?" to which he replied "No."
"What happened?"
"My legs gave out."
"Are your legs feeling weak now?"
"Yes"

"OK... I can help you, but you'll have to trust me."

I helped him into a kneeling position, and then we used the tree to get him onto his feet. My arm securely around him, we walked slowly across the street back to the house. Once there, I helped him off with his shoes in the mud room, and then off with his wet sweater. I guided him to the recliner, and then asked for a blood pressure cuff. His blood pressure was elevated, but not alarmingly so. After recovering in the chair for a time, he tottered off to the bedroom for a nap.

He told me I had saved him. He told me that several times.

When I called to check on him the next day, he said "I'm doing fine, now that you got me out of the woods!"

I do love what I do.

The key, in these situations, is not to panic. DO NOT PANIC. Your panic creates panic. Speak in low tones, and slowly. Guide with your hands while you speak, because there will be confusion. Make absolutely sure that there is no spinal injury before attempting to move a person. Also ask if they feel strong enough to stand. To help an elderly person back to their feet, starting on hands and knees works best. Find a secure place for them to hang onto, to help pull themselves to stand. A chair works best, unless you're outside under an apple tree! Because of Don's confusion, I had to demonstrate the hands and knees position for him to understand. He also stated that he was fine to walk across the street by himself, without me holding on to him. I told him that I was NOT letting go - it was against my religion! This made him laugh. Always keep the situation light to lessen embarrassment. He felt as if I had helped many, many people who had fallen before, by the time we were done. This was a good thing. I know we bonded that day. 

The Spider Bite and Miracle Sponge

Don is driven to work in his immaculate yard. He is a bit weaker than he was before the stroke, but he's always puttering around in the yard.  The other day, while in the shed, he put on a pair of gloves that evidently had become a spider's home. He was bitten. He didn't say anything at the time, but he told his wife that it had happened, as he came up for lunch. He was quick to add "I found something to put on it." She became greatly concerned. "What did you put on it, honey?" She asked him numerous times, but he could not bring to his mind what it was.

Finally he went back to the shed to bring back what he had put on his bite and show it to us. To Ella's horror he was carrying a can of Easy Off oven cleaner.She reacted rather vocally to this, but he was confused as to what the fuss was about. He brought the can to her and started to read it for her. "You see," he said, "it says right here that it is SAFE for..... self-cleaning ovens." He trailed off and looked sheepish. "Honey," she said, "YOU are not a self-cleaning oven!" He did have a point, though. The bite looked a lot better.

Fast forward to near the end of my shift when I was wrapping things up for the day. I had used a 'Magic Eraser' on the old counters in their kitchen around the gas range top. It took off layers of years and years of accumulated residue and the counter tops looked brand new. I brought Don into the kitchen to show him. He was SO impressed. He asked me to show him what I used. When I did, this is what he said:
"Well! If you ever get a spider bite...."  And we both had a great and hearty laugh.

"She's on my side"

Ella was gone when I arrived yesterday. Don informed me that she hadn't been feeling well the past few days, but yesterday felt well enough to go to the high school. The... high school? I wondered about this, but did not ask. I was thinking maybe a grandchild was still in high school, but I thought all the grand kids were of collage age or higher. As he gestured at his own hair, and mentioned that she felt the need for a new hair style, I realized he meant that she had gone to the salon.

We went back so he could show me the trouble with the sheets and pillow cases. You'll recall the note he left on September 13th. He had stripped the bed, and the linens were piled at the end of the mattress, with the bloody spots exposed. Yes, I agreed that they were very bad. Then he said "You'll have to help me out. Ella said something about that blanket (he gestures toward a comforter on the floor), but I forgot what she said.
"I have a feeling she wants it under your coverlet, as the air has gotten much more chilly since I made the bed last time."
"Oh! Thank you! I'm sure you're right. It has been colder."

Later, when Ella was home and the two of them were having lunch, he suddenly said to her "She's on my side about the bed making!"

Ella looked at me, and I shrugged my shoulders and smiled. He was SO triumphant.

If Dementia is stealing away the person you love, handling it like Ella is doing is making the best of a bad situation. She never makes Don feel like less of a man, or less of a person. We both just agreed that I was on his side, and I whispered to her later that I was going to add the comforter to the bed.

As I said before; they're not used to having help in their home. A couple of hours later, Don emerged from the bedroom and said "I went back to see if I could help you with the bed, and it was already made!"

I'm interrupting you....

I was busy cutting up vegetables and getting things ready for the evening meal. Don came into the kitchen with something very specific to say. Problem was; the words eluded him completely. He shook his head - he is still so handsome and is so soft spoken. "I'm interrupting you" he said sadly.
"No!" I shook my head. "I love talking with you!"
"You need to talk to someone who knows what they're talking about."

He left the kitchen.

Words fail the mind that has been assaulted by Dementia. The person is in there, but gets a little bit lost from time to time. Stress about it makes it worse.

If your loved one is exhibiting this kind of behavior, be very calm, matter of fact, and patient. I always just smile, touch an arm and say "Memory is a funny thing. Sometimes the words just refuse to come." And then drop it. Talk about something else.

Bloody Noses and Dirty Linens

Ella has been suffering with bloody noses lately. Her doctor says it's a combination of a few things, including high blood pressure, dry interior of her nose, and dehydration. I can help with the latter two.

Don is very concerned. I get the idea that they have always kept an immaculate home. One day I arrived to the above note. (I have whited out the actual name, as I keep my clients' names confidential.)

Ella tenderly showed me the note, and said it was special because Don never writes anything, anymore. What he was asking was for help getting the blood stains out of the fabric.

Yesterday I showed Don what happens when you pour hydrogen peroxide onto the blood stains. He was very amused and impressed.

Flashlight?

I'm preparing meals ahead for Don and Ella. She is unable to stand for long periods of time, so this is a great help for them. At the same time, I've got a load of laundry going. In walks Don, slowly, holding a lit flashlight in his hand.

"Will you be needing this in the next few minutes?" he asks.
I stop and look at him, thoughtfully. "I don't believe so... I'm sure I'll be fine" I reply.
"Ok, good. I"m going out to the.... the.... car place."
"The garage?"
"Yes!"
"Okay - see you soon."

Flashlight. I really wanted to follow him out there and see what he was going to do with it. One day soon I fear I will have to follow. Not yet.

The Don and Ella Chronicles

Don is a quiet man; an elegant man. He carries himself with the demeanor fitting for a respected educator, and mentor. He is married to a gracious woman, Ella, who is still beautiful. Don has suffered multiple heart attacks, and strokes. Ella has had hip surgery, and recovery is slow to happen. An in-home caregiver is not something they are used to. We're becoming comfortable with each other. Don knows his mind is slipping, and I am seeing this progress at an alarming rate. All of the warning signs for Dementia are present.  Ella finds it hard to just relax so she can heal. I will be sharing their stories here - as I am honored to share the sunset with them.