Contentment Found in the World of Dementia

This photo was taken by Corrina, one of the activity leaders at the care home. Below the photo she included a beautiful narrative that described how his hands provided care for others throughout his career, lovingly held hands with his sweetheart, provided comfort and companionship to his beloved black lab, and enjoyed taking the wheel of his favorite sports car.

It's hard for me to explain how powerful this is. I cried when I saw the photo and read the narrative. Corrina had captured the essence of my sweetheart. I will cherish this forever.

It's been quite a while since I posted and a lot has happened. Hard to know where to begin....

When I think back to all of the changes over the last 7 months, it makes my head spin. Last October was the crisis the resulted in Jim being hospitalized and then transitioned to a care home. Following that, I quickly realized that I needed to move. The home we built for retirement was no longer where I belonged. Every where I looked, it was a sad reminder of what we had lost. And I don't in any way mean material possessions, I simply mean the shared retired life that we had so looked forward to together.

The size of our home, the maintenance, upkeep, and expense were just too much for me. Fortunately our house sold relatively quickly. The hardest part was going through everything and deciding what to keep, sell, donate or throw out. It was a challenge because I knew that no one could really help me with that process; it was something that needed to be decided upon by me alone.

In the middle of the transition of moving, I managed to get sick. I fought it as best as I could, but I ended up a couple of days flat in bed, just too sick to move. I think the stress of it all was catching up to me.

The condo I purchased is just the right size for me alone. About 1000 square feet. I'm starting to feel settled. The last of the boxes were unpacked this past week. The community is a friendly and caring one. At the same time, it never feels intrusive. There are weekly social hours, occasional pot luck meals in the community room, and occasional spontaneous events/activities.

Jim continues to do well in the care home. Technically of course, it is a nursing home. But the love and care that I see there day after day inspires me to refer to it as a care home. It's not perfect of course, but overall the staff are simply amazing. So kind and caring, and I know that he is in good hands when I am not there.

I learned the other day that during the late evening shift, when many people are already in bed, Jim is doing his laps around the unit. When he tires, he simply goes into the first bedroom that he sees. He becomes agitated when he finds that someone is in bed. He likely is thinking that the person is in his bed, and has given a few folks quite a fright with his threatening behavior.

Depakote has been added to help with the agitation that he is experiencing at night. In addition, I'm reassured that staff are attempting to be proactive and doing their best to prevent and redirect.

Jim's language is fairly limited. Usually just a word or two that is intelligible. Once in a while he may string together a few words that are sensical, and that is always a pleasant surprise.

Yesterday a family member told me privately that Jim walked into her mother's room. He walked up to the resident (she is in a wheelchair), patted her shoulder, and said "you'll be OK". That's my sweetheart! The family member was so touched by his kindness. And I was so grateful that she shared that with me!

I haven't felt this settled in a long time. I think back to a little over a year ago when I was so stressed, I remember worrying that I was likely doing physical harm to my body. To live each day with high stress, fear and anxiety.....I'm not quite sure how I managed. Except to say that somehow in the middle of a crisis in our lives, we simply put one foot in front of the other. Because what else can we do? So we just do it.

But that is all behind me now. I'm happy and content because Jim is doing just fine. Certainly his disease is progressing, but he is in a safe haven. A place where he believes is home! And I still get to see him every day. He still knows me, is happy to see me, puts his arms around me and still says "I love you Carole".

It doesn't get much better than that.

Thank you dear readers for stopping by. And thanks for your patience for my lengthy absence. This journey has been a difficult one, but each one of you have helped to make the journey a little bit easier. And for that I am grateful.