Chapter 1 Unpublished Book “Bits ‘n Pieces of Me: Memoirs to retain identity in the face of growing dementia”

Tru here.

2013-01/24

Decision time has arrived.  I knew this day was inevitable when my doctor gave the “probable dementia” diagnosis six months ago, at age 54.  It’s not like I don’t know what to expect because I saw this disease path first with Mom’s paternal grandmother, and then with her mother.  But … I thought I would have more time.

My coping skills are still good enough that most of the time I hide this illness well.  Even if I say the word “dementia”, people shrink back in horror but then chuckle and deny the possibility; “No; YOU definitely do not have dementia!”  But nevertheless …

Last year I lost the ability to understand the more complex stories on my bookshelf.  University and seminary textbooks were first to be set aside.  Then disaster hit.

 

Jan 24th was a hard day so I wanted to console myself with the cowboy stories that my great-grandmother introduced when I was in sixth grade.  I reached for one of the leatherette collector series by Louis L’Amour.  My husband bought this set of over 100 books for my birthday, and recently finished building the beautiful oak cabinet to house them.

The problem is that I cannot track what is being said in the book.  The author is describing location, but I cannot remember the start of the sentence long enough to get to the end of the sentence.  So I try to skip ahead to what I CAN understand.  After a dozen pages I give up on the book.

Sometimes this happens in conversations, and I have to just “play along” until the conversation gets to what I CAN understand.  Usually that will happen sooner or later.  With some people (like my Mom) I will stop the speaker and explain that I am just not getting what is said.  “Try to keep the sentences short, okay?”  Sometimes that works and sometimes it doesn’t.

… So I tried a different novel.  The same thing happened.  These are uncomplicated novels, listed at 6th grade reading level.  I can read the words, but cannot gather the single-word meanings into sentence concepts.  … And then I cried.

When I was in 6th grade my teacher, Mr. Fisher, visited our house.  I was in the “advanced” math group, and knew that I was doing well in school, so I was surprised that a teacher made a private visit to talk to my parents.  He was concerned that I seemed to live my life through books instead of getting out and experiencing life first-hand.  Now I am afraid this 55-year-old bookworm is running low on available books.

I told myself, “It must be time to go to bed.  Maybe it will be better tomorrow.  This was a hard day, and I am just too tired for my brain to hold the concepts.  Probably it will be better tomorrow.  Yes; … it will be better tomorrow.”

 

And Life Goes On:

… But it was no better the next day, or the next week, or the next month.  So now I need to make a decision; what am I going to do about it?  How can I prepare for the day when I look in the mirror and ask (like my Grandmother before me) “Who is this person?”  I need to compile bits and pieces of who I am, so that when that time comes, someone who loves me can read it to me.  I can listen to the names and events, and it will be a fresh new story each time I hear it.

… So this is the story of how I came to be who I am, and what has prepared me to live well after my Dementia diagnosis – in “Bits ‘n Pieces of Me”.  Most pieces were written by me, but some by other family members.  Some pieces were written a very long time ago, and some pieces very recently.

Welcome to my world.
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I am from Truthful Loving Kindness

Tru here.  ((From birth to 50 years old, life prepared Belinda to live well with dementia diagnosis.))

I am from Truthful Loving Kindness

… from the snug haven of a home created with the anchor of G-d’s truth and the rose of parental love,
 inside a greater world of uncertainty, pain, and illusion.
I am from the look in Dad’s eyes as he sang
“Have I Told You Lately that I Love You” to my mother.
I am from the look in Mom’s eyes as she cared for him while he died.

I am from “The Chippewa Song”:
I am from a FATHER,
exhausted after long hours of working two full-time jobs,
suspending me over his toe-tips
while teaching me to dance the swing; 
I am from the fun of riding behind Dad in the motorcycle and sidecar, 
holding a warm, foil-wrapped baked potato in my lap. 
I am from working evenings at Coach Service,
fire-lit evenings with his harmonica, 
impromptu poems composed at bedtime,  … and morning coffee breaks. 
I am from the shock of seeing him after cancer surgery,
on a breathing machine with tubes coming out of his body; 
… from the knowledge that he probably would not live
until I reached the age of high school, 
… and then from the joy of having him at my graduation ceremony.

I am from “Beautiful Beautiful Brown Eyes”: 
I am from a MOTHER
in the housedress of unconditional love, 
dancing me to sleep when my tummy hurt. 
I am from the love that always had room in the house to care for
one more … child, 
or one more uncle, or one more great-grandmother. 
I am from marshmallow roasts,
sledding down the hill by the light of swinging lanterns, 
helping with homework, … and quiet good-night prayers. 
I am from the smell of homemade bread while warming myself
between the old wood cook stove and metal cabinets, 
… from the knowledge that she would always be there
to share my problems, if I would only let her, 
 … and then from the joy of learning HOW to better share my life
with her.

I am from lots of songs while washing dishes; 
I am from whispered girlish secrets in the dark,
and gales of giggling in the light, 
… from the look in Mom’s eyes the first Sunday that
there were only three children to dress for church,  
— instead of four.

I am from funeral songs: 
I am from the look in Dad’s eyes when
there were only two children, 
— instead of three, … and then … 
… from conversations regarding the process of death,
regarding the importance of family, 
regarding G-d, and what it might be like to live in Heaven.

I am from wedding songs: 
… from finding the truth of G-d’s love AND the rose of marital love, 
both inside a greater world of uncertainty, pain, and illusion. 
I am from the security I feel when I praise G-d,
and the answers when I pray. 
I am from the look in my husband’s eyes as he holds me up
and dances with me in the living room. 
I am from the smell of the ocean and the sound of the surf, 
…while watching him build our house with his own two hands.

I am from songs sung to my children:
… the Chippewa song, bedtime songs, songs when working,
and songs while hurting.
I am from songs to express joy in life and love.
I am from songs to keep my mind off pain.
I am from songs to keep perspective in G-d’s plan.

I am from facing pain, loss — and death — with truth AND dignity.
I am from facing love, joy — and life — with kindness AND honesty.

Truthful Loving Kindness
I hope I can pass it on to those around me. (2007-09/16)

((Wrote this five years before my dementia diagnosis, in honor of my legal name change to Truthful Loving Kindness on 50th birthday, 2007-09/16.  This is one of my reading choices when feeling discouraged with life as a dementia patient.))

>> https://truthfulkindness.com/bnp/

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Good Bye Hero 2008 Sept

Tru here.
Hero the Service Dog was born on November 11, 1996 and left us on August 25, 2008, several months short of his twelfth birthday.

. . . . . MY HERO . . . . .

Hero, I waited 13yrs for the right time to own a Newfoundland Dog, but you were worth the wait. You were everything I ever wanted in a Newf and in a Service Dog, and it is so very difficult to say Good-Bye.

I wanted a giant Newf that would fit the name of “Hero” and you certainly did. You captured my heart even though at 30-months old you were unwanted by your first two owners and mislabeled as dominant/aggressive. We changed your name to Hero and gave you a job; learning to pull a cart.

During your first weekend with us I began to realize what a special dog you were. When you perceived a dangerous person in the vicinity you just put your body between him and us. You were so subtle in your protection. But you growled when he later walked too close while being returned to the psych ward.

I remember the night you earned your name. It was extremely early (2am?) on a Sunday morning. You woke us up and took my husband to the side door of the house, but you wouldn’t leave the doorway. When he looked up he saw the flames rising from our neighbor’s house. That was an immediate classification of emergency, because she was bed-ridden and lived alone. The firemen and our neighbor agreed that you were definitely a Hero.

When I began to need a wheelchair we transferred your training to pulling duties as a Service Dog. You were a natural; within six weeks an organization filmed our partnership during an outing to the mall, and you were formally certified. (It normally takes 6 – 9 MONTHS to train a Service Dog.) Your abilities just kept pace with my dis-abilities. As I became more un-able, you became more able to meet my needs. You could even spot others who needed balance assistance. People noticed that you were pulling me and walking beside them at their pace so they could reach their hand out and retrieve their balance by leaning on you for a moment.

Then there was the evening that you wouldn’t stop staring and barking at a lady in the hot tub with me at the Health Club; she had an aortic aneurysm.

Your ability to predict my episodes of extreme fatigue 30 minutes ahead of time, even across a chlorinated pool, was amazing. Consistently you were able to get me to the bus stop before I could no longer hold my head up or hold onto your lead.

As you got older, it irritated me that you woke me so many times in the middle of the night. However, after I started using a machine for sleep apnea you enjoyed much longer sleep periods. Then one night you woke me up again; I had stopped breathing long enough that the machine thought it was disconnected and turned itself off!

What a Hero! Could any dog more personify the term? I already miss you SOOO much!

— Truthful Loving Kindness
* Admin issues: SHARE dementia awareness thru buttons below. If interested in receiving notice of future blog postings there is a “follow” button in the upper left corner (MS Explorer) or lower right (Safari and Chrome). Feel free to leave your thoughts in the form of comments, but please filter your comments with truthful loving kindness to all concerned. If there is an advertisement below, I have no control over what is shown. — Full legal name Truthful Loving Kindness copyright on 2008-09/01.
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