Wednesday, April 16, 2014


Some things to be happy about.

Thank you to those who have sent me love. I suspect my earlier blog posting didn't make for good reading. But you know me - put the negativity into words and it flows from me into the screen.

One thing that resulted from it was a message from a neighbour who has worked in the dementia care world and she told me of the home, with a day centre, where she once worked.
It sounds brilliant. Just reading about it filled me with tears of relief - relief that help might be available.
This home is called Cherries and is built on the site of my village school which I attended when I was aged 5  to 10. I am so glad they remembered the cherries. I can remember doing handstands on the slope under the cherry trees. My brother can remember girls doing that too - particularly the one with no knickers!
I was correct that somebody to be cared for can't just turn up - they have to be referred.
My neighbour wonders why the doctor hasn't already done something about that. I was under the impression that somebody from social services has to do that.
But I don't think I realised that I would have to plead for the help - I thought I would be told of places.
If you have a physical illness doctors are the people who advise you of what hospital treatments are available and most of us are happy to take their advice.
It seems with dementia nobody feels able to tell me what might be best for both Bill and me.
Now, I may have turned into a bag of stress and nerves, but I am articulate and intelligent; and I will get there.
How awful it must be for an elderly spouse without those skills to make some sense of the quagmire of a system.

So, I feel I have moved forward a bit - without the help of any so called experts or advisers.
Maybe a glimmer of light showing at the end of the tunnel! I know that the light will merely flicker and there will be a day when all goes black again. I am rehearsing that day - the rate things are progressing it might sooner than I am ready for.

Jenny came and drove me to the clinic for an ultrasound scan.
My biggest worry was that the radiographer might say nothing, feeling that it is the doctor's job to convey information.
But the man I met today talked.
He said that as far as he could see there was nothing alarming to be seen.
My pancreas, spleen, liver etc are free from nasties. I assume the doctor who might check out the images will see the same.
Good news - the hovering fears can, for now, be shoved into the background.
My very first analysis of my health would seem to have been the right one. My chronic pancreatitis has flared into something worse. It has often flared before, but never as badly as this. The stress is almost certainly the cause.
It is hard to get the stress under control. I have made an effort to get my diet under control - just soup so far since last Saturday.

Jenny was interested in The Cherries - it is very close to her home and she said she would call in there to get me more information. I look forward to hearing what she might have learned about what procedures I must follow. Jenny gave me something I really needed - basically she told me what to do - no hanging about thinking about what might be right; just get on with it.
She can see how rapidly things are progressing and wonders how things could be another month down the line. I have to have things in place.
Perhaps in a months time Bill will attend  day care centre for some days in the week, I think he will be glad of time away from me and I will certainly be happy to be free of him for some hours.
It is basically just the constant noise that feels like I am being attacked that means we must spend time apart. and the way he seems to think he can pinch and poke me and tweak my face.
His memory problems shock me - but I would consider them to be normal in a dementia patient.
The lack of memory often feels like a shock, but I can cope.
This morning I felt it would be better if he did something useful and I asked him to clean the loo floor.
Which loo must I do, he asked - upstairs or downstairs? People who have been here will know that there is no downstairs loo in this house that we have been in for 45 years. Jenny wondered whose house he might have got an image of in his brain.

I did find some energy to go with Bill to Asda for bread and milk and nice fruit drinks for me.
Well, it didn't feel like I had enough energy when I got in the shop - so weak. I felt like this was my first trip out after some weeks in hospital, rather than a few days resting.

I have watched TV - and happily I managed to be absorbed in a programme; my brain actually managed to forget about my own life for a while.
I was thoroughly engrossed in the programme Monkey Planet - what adorable and intelligent creatures they are. I smiled and chuckled and felt happy.