Baskets Full of Easter Joy

HELP WANTED: BUNNY FOR NIGHT SHIFT; EGGS INVOLVED. 

So, how did the Easter Bunny get picked to be THE Easter Bunny anyway?  Why was he picked out of all those other bunnies who were up for the job?  What made him stand out?  Was it because he had the ability to hop higher and farther than the other bunnies?  Just wondering.  Could it be that he was a better egg painter?  Or maybe he just looked better, or had a more hide-the-egg kind of je ne se quoi? Well, considering that there probably were an awful lot of bunnies up for this one job, I bet the rabbit unemployment rate was rather high, don't you?  

I've been unemployed for a while now.  I've always worked (mostly for engineering firms) and I just knew that after Christmas I would certainly find a job.  While I was at the hospital with Bob, I got a call for an interview with an engineering company.  I know--timing is everything right?  I wondered why I got that call at that time.  Of course, I couldn't interview or take a job.  I had to take care of Bob.   I got another call just the other day.  Again, I had to ask God what to do.  Do I try to leave Bob alone, or find someone to be with him all day long?  I want to work, not just because it's what I do, but because after all Bob's not working now.  I prayed about it and I got my answer.  Bob woke up from a nap the other day and said he lost a day somewhere.  I couldn't understand what he meant but he literally could not remember what he had done before the nap--any of it.  I kept telling him over and over but he would look at his watch and think it was 4:00 in the a.m. instead of the pm.  It was my answer.  How could I leave this frustrated and scared man by himself?  I can't.  He's not ready for that and no one knows when he will be.  I wonder why we are tested that way?  Why do opportunities come our way when we least expect them and usually when you must make a choice?  So, my work is here and now with Bob.  This is where I'm supposed to be.  And I am very OK with it. 

Bob really doesn't know I've had to make this decision again.  He did remember that I got a call but he thinks its just for an interview.  I told him the guy just never called me back.  If he knew, he would be upset.  He wants me to go back to work.  That would give him his freedom and independence and he wouldn't have to have me reminding him of things all the time, like his therapy exercises or taking his pills.  He is getting frustrated more and more and I know that means he's getting better.  I have to believe that.  So, maybe the next time an opportunity comes my way, I can accept it.  It will be the right time and it will be the right thing to do.  He's so ready for me not to have to drag him everywhere with me, too.   We went to the eye doctor for me on Tuesday and he could have waited in the waiting room, but no he wanted to wait in the car. It didn't go over to big that it took a little over an hour to have my eyes examined.  He was not a happy camper!!!  So you see, he is still just a GUY!!!  After all, the stroke didn't change everything!!!  Patience was never one of his strong points anyway.  Superman still fits into the same uniform, one leg at a time.  I wonder if the Easter Bunny has any of these issues?  After all, he is a "guy" bunny (haven't heard of a female rabbit up for the job).

I personally used to love Easter when I was a little girl.  I loved getting the basket full of those awful hard candy colored eggs, you know the ones wrapped individually, one big chocolate bunny and, of course, jelly beans.  My favorite ones were the purple and pink ones.  I always got some kind of stuffed critter that I would always take to church with me.  I had quite a stuffed animal collection as I recall.  But I really believed.  I really thought there was this rabbit that actually hopped around the world taking our already dyed Easter eggs and dropping them all over the grass before we got up on Easter morning (or if the weather was bad, in the living room).  Wow, what a gullible kid I was!  I really bought into all of that.  If I think about it, I have been pretty gullible about lots of things, events and people in my life.  But being gullible could also mean trusting.  Because I have been too trusting, I came to a point of distrust in people and I didn't think I could trust anymore.  Then came Superman!  How could you not trust him?  Impossible - he is the speaker of truth, the seeker of justice and the believer in the American Way!  Right? 

So, back to the question about the infamous Easter Bunny, I'd say the bunny had to be up on all the latest rabbit-related issues like carrot production, lettuce consumption, and overpopulation, be able to be technologically advanced for a bunny his age, and, oh yes, very very patient.  Yes, patient.  In all things, patience seems to just pop up, even for The Easter Bunny.  He must be very quiet and precise during his egg adventures, so I'd say patience would definitely be involved.  Yes, I vote for patience!!!  In fact, I pray for patience to be put in my Easter basket!!!  (I pray that Bob gets a little in his also.)

From the home of Hope & Courage,

Happy Easter!

Jody

Hip Hops and Hallelujahs!

Bob and I were sitting on the sofa on Saturday and laughing at our wedding plans.  We've decided it's going to be fun and have a surprise or two in it.  It will be unconventional and since Emily Post will not be in attendance, we can pretty much do whatever we want to.  I told him I planned to sing to him.  He looked at me and thought I just might be serious and said, "No, please don't."  I asked him why not and he couldn't come up with a good reason.  I told him I wanted to be Shania Twain and sing her "From this Moment" which I just knew I could do justice to....he couldn't keep a straight face.  Then he said he wasn't going to shave his beard for the wedding.  You see he hasn't shaved since the stroke.  He looks pretty scruffy to me, but he loves it.  It's all white and I think it makes him look much older.  I have told him many times, that I fell in love with a much younger man and I wanted to keep it that way.  So, now he was threatening me with a no shave gesture.  So, I had to confess there would be no singing on my part.  Somehow though, I got no more promises about the beard.  I am beginning to wonder...will Superman shave or won't he...to be continued.

Yikes! (one of Bob's favorite phrases) The wedding countdown is 13 days and we're hopping down the bunny trail.  I'm checking things of the list like crazy.  Finally found a dress on Friday.  My daughter's fiancee stayed with Bob.  He was not happy about me leaving him with a Bob-sitter.  This is a good thing, that he was grumpy about it.  I think it means he's getting better and better.  I'm thinking he might be ready for me to start allowing him more independence and I can start leaving him alone for short periods of time.  I know he wants it as much as I do, if not more.  He still gets turned around in the condo but he eventually finds his way.  I'm learning to LET him find his way, instead of answering his "where is the" questions.  I have noticed that his memory is a lot better in the last couple of days.  My future daughter-in-law gave me an idea for a dry-erase board to be a REMINDER BOARD that might make it easier.  I'm going to try that.  And he can use his new phone pretty well now; we practice all the time.  I'm on speed dial and he can see to dial 911.  He actually called me today.  He was down in his workshop and I was upstairs. I was so excited.  One giant hop for mankind!!

More good news!  He hasn't smoked since going to the neurologist.  So maybe it sunk in.  I, of course, the ever vigilant sniffer can smell a puff of smoke from a mile away (new nickname:  the Nose) and I haven't.  Got my paws crossed! 

This week we don't have a VA therapist appointment until Thursday.  In fact, the Speech therapist has dismissed us.  Of course, I've got lots of continued therapy that she gave me to do, and I've got the vision therapy and occupational activities.  The VA has now decided that he needs to see their vision therapist (I didn't even know they had one), and a geriatric-neuro psychological person (??) for Bob's memory.  Hey, the more the merrier for after the wedding.  Since we are low on therapists this week, we can concentrate on all things "wedding."   

Chalk this week up to a Bad News/Good News week--mostly Good News for all of us silly wabbits.  After all it's the beginning of Easter Week and that's always Good News!  Hallelujah!

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."

From the home of Hope & Courage,
Jody

They asked me how I knew, my true love was true...

Now you really have to be "old" to remember that song.  Well it's the only song I could think of about smoke.  I can't stand smoking.  What am I doing with a man who smokes?  I don't know.  You'd think I was drawn to it or something.  I won't allow it to be inside the house.  My parents smoked, as a lot of baby boomers' parents did.  I remember riding in the car with the windows barely cracked and my Mom and Dad smoking in the front seat.  I sat in the back holding my nose.  Gee, I wonder why I have asthma?  Cough, cough!


"Be Honest Bob."  My words.
"When was the last time you had a cigarette?" The doctor's words. 
"Yesterday."

He was honest.  He was truthful.  (I don't know where he got one.  There must be a dealer on the corner.  He came back from getting the mail and he was puffing away.)  Today was not a pleasant experience for either of us.  Bob and I listened to the Neurologist tell him the BAD NEWS.  He has artery disease which is apparently something he has had for anywhere from 10-15 years.  Who knew?  Not Bob.  According to the doctor, Bob has been experiencing mini-strokes for all that time.  He just had a large stroke in February.  The doc gave him the riot act about cigarettes and even his beer.  Don't know how this will affect him.  I guess we'll see if it sinks in.

The doctor said that the bottom line was "if you don't stop smoking, you will probably have another stroke within 6-12 months and the likelihood of it being "the big one" and leaving you in the total care of your girlfriend or either very dead is great."

THE GOOD NEWS:  if he can behave and not smoke and not drink as many beers then his chances of recovery are very good.  Yea!  Way to go!  Go Bob!  Have you got that spirit?  (Oops, cheerleader flashback!)

I only see two problems here.  One, he's Bob and very stubborn and has smoked all his life.  Getting someone to change unless they want to is impossible.  But I still have hope.  Two, he will probably forget that the doctor did scare him today.  He will forget and not feel the fear again like when the doc said that he could die soon from another stroke.  I guess I can scare the stuffing out of him on a daily basis.  After all, I'm a mother.  What mother hasn't done that to a child?  If you keep that up, your eyes will stick like that. 

What can I really do?  I don't know.  I guess I can follow him everywhere he goes and never let him leave my sight.  So that the nasty dealer on the corner can't put a gun to his head and make him take a cigarette.  Or nothing different.  Keep on keepin' on and remind him of today, love him and support him.  I will do my best that is all I can do.  Pray. Pray. Pray.  Pray that he changes for himself and me.  Pray that God allows us to have a life together.

They asked me how I knew
My true love was true
Oh, I of course replied
Something here inside cannot be denied


They said someday you'll find
All who love are blind
Oh, when your heart's on fire
You must realize
Smoke gets in your eyes

From the home of Hope & Courage,

Jody

Will you still need me; Will you still feed me; When I'm sixty-four?

Well, that's me, Lois Lane (if only I looked that good and that young).  It's AS (after stroke) and I have a responsibility to Bob!!!  Excuse me, Superman.  To make sure his injustices are not ignored.  Boy, I wish it was that easy.  Sometimes I am too old and too tired to fight the forces of evil. 

Bob is a stubborn man.  Aren't all men?  Especially men (and women) who have been here on this earth awhile.  We know it all and we will be the first ones to tell the younger generation how it is.  So, Bob has been told numerous times that he is supposed to eat healthy and not to smoke.  Well, because he is afflicted with short term memory loss, he forgets that he can't do these things until confronted. At times he has even forgotten that he has had a stroke.  I think sometimes maybe it's a convenient forgetfulness and that makes me upset.  But nicotine addiction is strong. Every once in a while, he finds a cigarette.  One time he asked the painter outside, one time the garbage man, and one time he found one in his car.  I went through his car but he must have a stash somewhere. The other night, he took off his socks and a pack of cigarettes fell to the floor and he looked astounded because he had forgotten it was there.   I felt like a cop finding drugs on a perp. We both burst out laughing at first, then I was all serious when I gave him the "No Smoking" lecture and what the doctor said, etc. etc.

I don't want to be a policeman.  So sometimes I don't say anything.  Sometimes Lois just doesn't have the stamina and strength and I have my weak moments...moments when when we go out for breakfast and he orders a Belgum Waffle with strawberries and vanilla ice cream AND SYRUP and I just sit there!!  I don't say anything because I don't want to see the defiance in his eyes.  There is this little boy who doesn't want anyone to tell him how to live, or what to eat or drink.  The rest of his life is at my mercy, and he wants some independence back.  I can not imagine how horrible he feels. 

And I'm scared.  I'm scared of the memory lapses.  I'm being honest here.  I'm scared that his memory will not come back.  I am told that he will probably get the vision back, but the memory is questionable.  He doesn't realize it but he is a broken record.  Some days are so repetitious they are predictable.  When we leave the house, Bob always asks me if I have the keys, then do I know where we are going, and later while we are driving, if I know where I am...it goes like this every day.  He doesn't remember these things.  This scares me.  He can ask me where his phone is five times in ten minutes.  Some days I see no improvement in the memory area.   But then there are times when it's like nothing happened.  And out of the blue, he will surprise me and remember something that happened recently. 

We went to the eye clinic on Friday where they have a program for stroke victims.  They evaluated him and gave him a good prognosis for vision recovery.  We were thrilled at what they said.  The vision therapist gave us exercises to do at home, so we'll keep you posted on the progress.  Bob's Primary Care Physician told us that she wanted to get him into a program for "forgetful" people (mostly old people...I didn't tell him that).  So there will be future memory therapy as well as vision therapy, occupational and speech therapy.  I think after we see the neurologist next week, we will have done all, medically-speaking, that we can to help Bob with recovery.

I think all in all Lois Lane and Superman are doing pretty well I suppose.  We're not kids and anytime you have to go through a trauma, whether physical or mental, its just plain hard.  The effects are doubled with age.  In fact, even though it's all a relative issue, if you're over 60 - well, you're kinda old.  Whether the patient or the caregiver, at this age, it takes a toll.  You get plain ornery.  You get irritable and you're not always the best person you can be.  Get my drift here?  I am beginning to understand why old people act like they don't care what other people think.  I'm getting there.  I had two elderly aunts who were as cute as they could be.  When they were in their 80's (I think), we all went to dinner with my father, who was also 82.  They were hysterical.  They were demanding, and unforgiving to the waiters.  I remember asking one of them, why she was being so demanding.  Her reply was (and I'm as serious as a stroke), "because I'm old and I am deserving."  At the time, I was shocked that she felt that way.  But I understand better now.  Bob and I are on our way down that road.


On Saturday a somewhat forgetful Superman and a stressed-out Lois Lane went to lunch and sat together on the same side of a booth.  We giggled like teenagers, cuddled and held hands and Bob kissed me a couple of times.  I know people don't know what to make of two old geezers acting like that.  But we didn't care and I love it.  We forgot about the stroke for a little while and pretended like nothing had ever happened.  Like we were BS (before stroke).

From the home of Hope & Courage,
Jody

How Sweet It Is to be Loved...

Life is sweet!  Like I've said before, I thank God every day for Bob.  He has come into my life at the very right time and given me more happiness in the last 8 months that I could ever imagine.  I can't imagine my life without him. Someone asked me whether I still wanted to be with him now, if I might want to change my mind because after all he's different, he's changed, he's dealing with handicaps and after all I am sacrificing so much for him.  I remember thinking what is this person talking about.  I could not consider such a notion.  I've already made the commitment; I love this man, for better or worse, etc.  In my heart, the vows are already made.  I know if the situation was reversed and I was sick, he would do the same.  No doubt in my mind.  Good grief, would Lois dump Superman just because he was a little low on kryptonite?  Nah!

Bob is still Bob.  He is still Superman to me.  He might be slow to come up with a word, not remember what he had for breakfast or what I said to him just ten minutes before, but he still knows the important SUPER stuff.  He knows his family.  He knows Us.  He knows I'm here for him.  He knows I love him and that he loves me. 

Yesterday, Bob and I spent the day going to the VA to see two therapists, and then to his doctor at the VA Decatur Clinic.  It was a long day.  The doctor was very encouraging about the fact that Bob's tests from the hospital--Sonogram of the carotid artery area, and an echo cardiogram--showed no signs of existing clots or plaque.  Now that doesn't mean that he won't have another stroke, but there were no obvious signs of something ready to blow (so to speak).  He was still told again not to smoke, to eat healthy and to exercise.  All the things we are all supposed to do.

While we were at the doctor's office we saw a gentlemen in a wheelchair who obviously had a stroke.  He was alone and having a hard time wheeling himself around but he managed.  I thought how close Bob came. But, he's not paralyzed.  He can speak clearly and can think for himself.  He can reason, react, and show emotion.  He can walk, he can breath and say sweet things to me.  All the positives.  What Bob & I are going through is nothing--nothing compared to what that poor man, who was all by himself, was struggling with as he tried to get through the doors of the Decatur Clinic.    


This week, I've been doing "wedding" things, making more lists, contacting people, making rehearsal dinner arrangements, etc.  Bob is consulted on everything.  We have assigned my granddaughters jobs to do.  My oldest, Olivia (almost 13) is going to take pictures of everything and everybody.  My other granddaughter, Ava (10), is in charge of the guest book.  Bob & I agreed the girls were perfect for their new wedding positions.  Me, I haven't got a dress yet (I know, I know...time is getting short).  I told Bob that I will probably go down the aisle in my nightgown--the pink flannel one with the hole under the arm.  He thinks I'm crazy.  I thought that it's probably OK if I wear that because he can't see me clearly anyway.  But it would just upset my daughter A LOT.  But I can't leave my sweet Superman alone yet to go shopping.  I'm working on getting him a new phone with really big numbers and display screen.  By the way, wouldn't one think that AT&T would have a cell phone for visually impaired people?  I think I'll write a letter.  I digress...when I get him this phone, he can dial me or 911 and I will feel like I can start leaving him little by little.  He wants some independence, and I want to give him some.  Then I can shop.  In the meantime, I rely on family volunteers to Bob-sit for me in small increments.  Don't worry, I'll at least try to sew up the hole.

So as this small family wedding draws nearer, and things get checked off the lists, Superman & I take each day as it comes.  I find small sweet positives and try not to be impatient over little setbacks or things that he might have remembered yesterday and not today.  Being Lois Lane is a learning process but I'm just in the elementary stages.  And since kryptonite is sometimes hard to find, we just keep digging.  There are some things we can't do while we are waiting for recovery--we can't make things happen when we want them to, we can't lose hope, we can't worry about tomorrow, and we can't dwell on negatives.  What we CAN do as we work toward recovery is thank God for His love and all that He has given us--our health, our family and friends, each other and our love. 

From the home of Hope & Courage,
Jody

Somewhere over the rainbow...

It's almost St. Patrick's Day.  I've never understood the leprechaun that holds the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  What has that got to do with St. Patrick's day?  I don't get it.  I do get that the pot of gold represents all our hopes and dreams.  They are all just waiting at the end of the rainbow.  We all plan whether in big or small ways how we're going to get to there and get that pot of gold.

It's been one month since our lives changed.  It's been one month since my plans for the future took on a new outlook.  I should know better.  I've always been a planner (I got that from my Mother who planned out her Christmas dinner one year in advance) and every time I planned out my future as far as I could, it changed.  Something happened in my life to bring me to a halt.  I should know that we are not the One planning our lives.  It's those U-turns in the road that you don't plan on, the curves and ditches that sometimes make life hard.  It's those potholes that build character?  I don't know about character.  I don't know about how we handle adversity proving our character.  I don't know.  All I know is that Bob and I are no longer living in a dreamworld looking for rainbows.  We are seeing reality and I don't always like it.  There are glimpses of rainbows and clouds.  Just glimpses.  There are still sweet "I love you's" from each of us, still a twinkle in Bob's eye when he says, "Jody, you crack me up."  But we are not on that cloud anymore.  We are firmly down on the ground.

Sometimes when the plan changes, its a good thing.  Bob told me that he wasn't going to let me go.  He told me that on our 3rd date.  I didn't know what to think of this very bold man.  He was very confident that he was going to sweep me off my feet and make me feel just like he did.  I think it was the 6th date that he said he loved me.  I kept saying things like, "You don't even know me, well enough to say that" and "Stop saying that...you can't mean that."  But it didn't stop.  He said he knew right away that I was the one.  It took me a little longer, but once I realized it, our path, our future was set.  He's such a very good man.  A friend told me that anyone could probably get a man, but the trick was to get a good man!  I did.  I am so blessed.  But Bob wasn't in my plan.  He was a surprise.  I happily had to change the plan.

Bob proposed to me while we were in the North Georgia Mountains in October.  The mountains are my favorite place to be.  He gave me the most beautiful diamond ring and I have to admit, this is my very first engagement ring.  Waited long enough, huh?  I haven't seen the wedding band, but I know that Bob picked out something just as beautiful.  That's Bob.  He plans too.

A couple of days before Bob went to the ER, we were talking about the wedding plans and he was teasing me about how complicated everything was getting.  I kept trying to make him be serious and help me with a head count and other things.  He would not stop making silly comments and I was ready to hit him over the head with my "to do" notebook.  My planning notebook.  I write everything in it.  It's my life - planned out as far as I possibly can.  I also have calendars to do the same thing.  Like I said, I plan - it's a curse (thanks, Mom).  Bob made fun of my notebook.  I promptly ignored him and decided to go work on my computer calendar.

This week, one of Bob's therapists, told us to keep a calendar and make a "to do" list IN LARGE PRINT so that Bob could practice reading it and remembering what our daily schedules were.  I kind of silently smiled to myself knowing this was already happening in my life but I just didn't always share every detail (and it is very detailed) with Bob.  The new kind of planning is different.  We are doing it as an exercise that can be flexible not something that cannot change.

This week has been a positive one.  I have seen some progress in both the vision and memory areas.  Small steps.  Small acceptances, too.  Some colors of red, yellow, green and blue.  Hints of the rainbow.  I love this man so dearly and I want him to be whole again.  He deserves to have his life back.  He deserves the rainbows.  I pray that God gives us the patience to wait it out.  To help me to take it one day, even one hour or one minute, at a time and realize that His plan is much better than my plan.

From the home of Hope & Courage,
Jody

Come on Superman, let the good times roll...

We are 1/2 way through the week and it's been busy.  We can easily roll right down toward the weekend, right?  Yes, we can.

Monday we had business to do, one thing was picking up our marriage license in Lawrenceville.  I honestly don't think I have ever been to downtown Lawrenceville before.  I couldn't believe it but I think it's true.  Nothing about it looked familiar.  But after a little searching, I found the courthouse.  First of all, it was a good drive and Bob was very talkative and funny.  I kept talking about what we were doing, so he would remember and he did.  As we walked up to the court house, he stopped me and said, "I don't think they will let me in."  I was puzzled, "Why, not?"  I have a weapon.  I thought, I knew he didn't have any kind of weapon so I was puzzled.  "No, you don't, sweetie," I said.  "No, I have a ..." and he pulled a pocketknife out of his pocket.  I took it and put it in the bushes near the sidewalk with hopes we'd find it when we were finished with our task at hand.  I was so pleased with that small episode.  Little things like that make my day.  He knew where we were, he somehow deciphered the sign about weapons, and he knew what he had to do.  Three super big ones!!

During the process of applying for the marriage license, he was joking and teasing me and he actually invited the clerk to come to the wedding.  He kept asking me if we were married yet (with a sneaky smile) and I'd say sure.  And as we walked out of the building, license in hand, I found the pocketknife in the bushes which was a nice plus and he thought I was the most wonderful woman in the world!  Smart and everything!  I aim to please.

Yesterday, busy morning at the VA hospital for both occupational and speech therapy.  He did very well and he felt good about his visits.  Both therapists gave him homework which I was very glad to see.  This gives him something to do when he's bored.  On the days of therapy, Bob pretty much sleeps all afternoon because it wears him out.  I get caught up.  As I was folding laundry, I thought about getting Bob a present.  I think I will look for a Superman's cape at a costume store and save it for an anniversary of some kind.  Maybe a couple of months of therapy or just a day of accomplishments.  So, next time I'm out by myself I'll find one.  Made a promise to myself.

Today was a good day.  Bob did a lot of little things that were remarkable to me but they wouldn't be to anyone else.  Just normal everyday things, like remembering to take his medication without being told, finding the kitchen and putting his cereal bowl in the sink without help, that I noticed.  I saw these good and positive differences.  He is leaping tall buildings with a single bound (only people of our generation would know that).

Tonight, as I type, it's with thankfulness for a good 1/2 week so far.  I do believe God is giving us small blessings a little at a time.  I say, "Roll on!" 

From the home of Hope & Courage,
Jody (I mean, Lois)

The "B" words

I call this phase of our journey - AS (After Stroke).  Obviously to me, BS = Before Stroke.  I refer to these acronyms while talking to Bob now and then which makes him laugh.  Now please do not take any other connotation to their meaning (at least not unless you know something I don't).  In this phase of our journey, AS, Bob has had to assume a different role in our relationship.  Whereas even nowadays, the male of the couple takes on a somewhat dominant role (or at least we make them think so), I am now the dominant one.  I make sure things get done.  I establish the routines.  I am the one who dictates whether or not he eats, drinks and smokes, and what. 

BS (before the big one), Bob could handle, or so he thought, the ability to digest any ugly and greasy food he wanted.  Burgers were his favorite.  I bet he ate at least 4 or 5 per week when we went out to eat.  Now Bob is not a big eater but it was what he ate not how much.   And he ate way too much sugar.  Thus, the Good Cholesterol Levels were not high enough according to the results of his hospital tests.

AS (again, after the big one), he can't (or should I say, shouldn't) eat the big "B" foods--Butter, Bacon & Beef.  He can have some very lean BEEF in moderation, I Can't Believe It's Not BUTTER, and Turkey BACON.  Now this is a challenge.  He has always eaten whatever he wants.  It's hard to change this old dog.  Now he doesn't realize some of the changes, when I cook.  But when we go out to eat, which we do a couple times a week for lunch (mainly to get out of the house), he sits right down and orders what he's always ordered--a "close to rare" steak or hamburger.  Now all of you are going, "Are you kidding me?"  and my response is "NO!"  If it's not those two items, it's a meatball sub, or philly cheesesteak, or something like that.  It's awful.  So, I have to say very sweetly, "Honey, you really should eat something a little healthier, don't you think?"  And the look I get is "KILL KILL KILL."  We compromise.  Sometimes he forgets he's had a stroke and that he is supposed to eat BETTER and I just have to remind him.  But those other times, it's the "I can eat whatever I want attitude" that I get.  Oh, it's hard to be the BAD Guy.  Ask anyone who has had to enforce rules, like maybe a Mom?  I don't want to be Bob's Mom.  I just want to be his fiancee, and soon his wife. 

Another "B" is our cat "Buzz" (only Georgia Tech fans will get the meaning here).  Buzz and Bob, I've decided are very much alike.  Now I say this with love, because I love both of these Bad boys.  Buzz is spoiled.  Bob is now spoiled.  Buzz is demanding, now Bob is, too.  Buzz is stubborn.  Bob is also (and has always been).  Buzz has no patience, well, yes...duh.  So, basically, I am Sargent at Arms to the B Boys!!

Another B word is BEAUTIFUL.  That is our relationship.  In spite of this episode in our lives, we are beautiful together.  We are also BLESSED.  We are blessed to have found each other, and blessed and thankful to be alive.  We have wonderful families and so many people who love us. 

Right now, the two boys, Bob & Buzz, are sitting on the sofa, taking a Sunday morning nap.  Me, I'm Blogging. 

From the home of Hope & Courage,
Jody

Memories...like the corners of your mind...

Another week of therapy sessions.  I think I see signs of improvement.  But then all of a sudden, Bob will go into a memory lapse.  I see him trying so hard to remember something as simple as looking at his wallet and remembering what all those cards are for.  And he's confused.  I feel so bad for him.  He almost has a panic attack sometimes because it scares him so.

If I try to help, he pushes me away.  And though he's not a person to lose his temper, he gets so frustrated that he borders on yelling at me.  That's not my Bob.  All I can do is sit beside him while he goes through this episode and wait for it to pass.  And it does.  God please give Bob the ability to remember the memories that he has lost.  

He remembers most things.  He knows we are getting married on April 10th and he still wants to go to Costa Rica.  He told me he doesn't want to live the rest of his life as if something might happen.  He's right.  Something might happen anyway.  To either one of us.  There are no guarantees about our time on earth.  He remembers people in his life.  He remembers things he's done.  For some reason he doesn't remember food eaten and I say, "So What!"  It's no big deal.  After all I'm not a gourmet cook and it's just as well that he doesn't remember my cooking. 

I am establishing routines for him so it will be easier for him to remember day to day things.  I think it's working - slowly.  I hope and pray that most of the big stuff memories along with the short term memory will come back to him.  I seem to say a lot things over and over and Lord knows I try not to sound impatient with him (though I know sometimes I do). 

The brain, I'm learning, is an amazing organ.  It does have the ability to re-learn a lot of what is taken away for whatever reason.  The way it works is a miracle and doctors still don't understand all that goes on inside our heads.  I know I can forget things on a regular basis but lately I have to be "on target."  I have to remember things because I can't depend on anyone else to do so.  I have to remember.  I have to make my brain--my sixty year old brain--think and remember like, oh a 40--year old brain.  In that way, I'm exercising my brain while Bob is exercising his brain.  Two brains are definitely better than one!

From the home of Hope & Courage,
Jody

Turtles are people, too.

It's been over two weeks since Bob was taken to the ER.   Change in our lives is an understatement.  These past two weeks, I am the numero uno care giver for my sweetie.  It is so hard for him to be at my mercy for everything.  He can dress himself and do all the basics, but his ability to think ahead is limited.  I have to remind him to do simple things that used to be routine in his life.  Not that his life is the same routine at all.  It's slowed down to a turtle's pace.  This was a man who went to work every day come rain or shine (as they say).  His routine is now just kind of going with the flow.  He goes where I go, eats when I eat, etc.  We were together all the time before, but now we are, as Bob says, "joined at the hip."  One of our goals is for him to be able to stay by himself in our home, one hour at a time.  I keep asking God for patience.

We have made three trips to the Veterans Administration (VA) Hospital for speech and occupational therapy.  I am very impressed with the therapists there.  Bob likes them (they are all women and he's a big flirt) and they treat him with respect.  They have been evaluating him and have a plan of action.  I can see improvement already not necessarily from therapy but from just time spent.  I noticed the other day that his depth perception was just about normal.  That's a huge deal.  He says his basic vision is clearer but it comes and goes.   Please God give Bob patience.

The hardest thing for me to watch is the memory problem.  It's not just the short term memory but some long term memory as well.  The short term can be from yesterday to 10 minutes ago.  The long term seems to be specific incidents or things that might worry him.   There are some moments that Bob laughs at himself because his memory is so bad.  Tonight he and I laughed about the fact that he couldn't remember what he had for lunch today, but he could remember where his "beer refrigerator" was.  Funny how the brain remembers those important things!!!

I know that it could have been so much worse for Bob; he knows it, too.  The repercussions from strokes can be devastating and his are not.  He can carry on a very intelligent conversation with anyone and he has the ability to think and reason.  If you met him today, you would not know immediately that anything was wrong with him.  Only if you noticed his vision issues, or asked him questions about what you talked about earlier.  Bob knows he had an angel on his shoulder and he is thankful.  I am so very thankful to have Bob alive and kicking. 

He's still Bob.  Bob is a methodical, engineer-type of guy.  Everything he does requires him to think it through and does nothing with haste.  In other words, Bob is a slow mover.  He walks slowly, he eats slowly, etc. etc.  This is hard for me--I do everything fast.  But I think this is a plus for his recovery.  He goes slow; recovery goes slow.  So.....we can patiently wait, slow and steady, like the tortoise and hare story, right? 


From the home of Hope & Courage,
Jody