Wednesday, July 16, 2014

And as for Me vs. Alzheimer's...



From now on you may just call me Nancy...
Reagan, that is.
By 2001 I had my plan mapped out.
I would "stand by my man" just like she stood by hers.
I would fiercely protect and defend him.
And...
I would hire round the clock helpers if it became
necessary, but
I would never place him anywhere outside his home.
This was my plan for at least 5 years, 
and you best not have argued or tried to reason with me.
I took a vow to "have and to hold him,
for better or for worse, in sickness or in health,
until death do us part."


I had very valid reasons for being adamantly
opposed to "nursing homes."
My mother was physically mistreated in one
before she was 50 years old.
Jack's mother, who also had Alzheimer's,
died in one which was conveniently close
 but not ideal by a long shot.


 My noble plan worked fine in the beginning.
I protected him by never telling anyone.
I, therefore, didn't have to defend him
(except to that female neurologist in Dallas!)
I did often cover for him.
When he was obviously not remembering
something, I would say,
"You remember thus and such," and
he would usually go along with me.
I always got a table for 2 on our cruises, so
his inability to remember would not be exposed. 

********************************

Just a little aside here...
In September of 2003 we cruised through
the Panama Canal on the
Coral Princess.
Here we are at our first formal dinner.

Now this is, technically at least, a
"table for two by the windows."
(Their most popular request.)
That's a window right by us looking out on the
beautiful sea.
There is, however, a problem with this
particular table for two.



There are only inches between it and another
table for 2.
Might as well have been a table for 4!
It made for tense dinners for me, as
Jack neither remembered what he had said
nor what he had heard
the night before.
I was always relieved when Frank and Josephine
opted to dine elsewhere!

********************************


I was shocked to receive a phone call in 2002
from the chairman of the Board of Directors
at the bank where Jack served.
(NOT wonderful Skip Leffler--he was
President)
I did not react appropriately, and it
was a lesson learned.
He told me "they" were worried about
Jack's memory.
(Actually it was he who was, not they.)
Instead of reacting calmly and matter-of-factly, I
poured out my heart.
Wrong person.  Wrong decision.
Be more careful, Nancy.


I don't remember how long Jack kept going to
the office daily.
I do remember a rare incident in 2003
when he came home after riding with someone
all day to look at the jobs in progress.
He told me, very sadly, that
he didn't think he could handle a job any more.
("Handle" meant oversee it from his office.)
That, however, was an unusual moment of clarity.
He usually thought he could still do
anything he could ever do.
Big gigantic problem!!!


Remember my quote about AD?
"If you've seen one case of Alzheimer's Disease...
you've seen one case of Alzheimer's Disease."
In our case,
we rarely talked about it.
He knew he had it, but he was going to beat it.
I knew he had it, but I was going to handle it.
Actually, neither was going to happen.



 








 

Friday, July 11, 2014

Alzheimer's and Jack's Work


In late 2000 construction began on the new
Stovall Construction, Inc.
office on Highway 287.
The superintendent?  Jack Stovall.
Now I don't know if he had ever actually been 
a superintendent on one of his jobs,
 but certainly not in many a year!

Looking back, I think...
"How could I not have seen God's hand in this?"
Jack had personally found the land for the building.
He had helped the architect with the design. 
It was "his baby."


Additionally,
it got him out of the office and exposed him to
 fewer opportunities to make obvious gaffes.
He seemed content to be there.
Other supers could stop by to "visit" and
casually lend a hand.

There were, however, a couple of telling incidents
on the construction site that I heard about
 (and probably many more that I didn't!)

Must have been early on...
Jack called the framing contractor one afternoon 
complaining bitterly that he hadn't sent
his employee out to the job as promised that day.
Uh oh.
The guy had been there that morning. 
And Jack had seen and talked to him.

As I sit here thinking about this something came
back to me.
I think he told me about the mistake with the
framer himself--with heart-breaking
sadness and frustration.
What a cruel disease.

Then one day Jack called Rick, his estimator,
at the old office asking him to locate
something in their warehouse and bring
it to the new building.
Rick had a terrible time finding whatever it was.
(The warehouse was a hoarder's dream.)
When he finally located it, he delivered it to Jack.
And Jack said, "I didn't ask for that."
Bless Rick's heart.
He was faithful and invaluable to Jack to the end.



The beautiful new office was complete in 
September, 2001.
Move in day was about one week after 9/11.
One thing I remember distinctly is that the events
of 9/11 didn't seem to have the same impact
on Jack that they had on the rest of us.
What a strange disease.


Here it is. 






 It's amazing that I can't remember more.
I'm sure Jay and Rob can.
They never complained to me, however.
I didn't start making notes until about 5 years in.
And I didn't make that many then.


The main focus of those first 5 years was
secrecy.
Jack did not want anyone to know.
Although I tried desperately to honor his wish,
I told him I thought it was a mistake.
Now I think I was wrong.


 "When people know you have Alzheimer's 
you become branded--it's like you have a
big "A" stamped on your forehead.
People treat you differently."

from Chicken Soup for the Soul
Living with Alzheimer's..." 









Wednesday, July 9, 2014

My Dietetic, Somewhat Healthy, Very Special Hot Dog



I used to fix these often for Madeline and Susannah.
But it's a lot of trouble just for me.
Slaving over a hot stove, making a mess type trouble.
So it was a big deal when I bought all the
ingredients and undertook to fix me one.


I start out by "grilling" my Hebrew National weiner
in a skillet.  They're better that way.
While I'm doing that I heat my little dab of
extra lean beaf chili in a small Pyrex dish
covered with a paper towel in the microwave.
It sort of explodes and gets chili all over the place
which I have to clean up before I can...
microwave the "Carb Smart" flour tortilla
between two paper towels misted with water.
(That makes it nice and soft.)


It's finally time to assemble.
Mustard on nice soft tortilla, then "grilled" weiner,
 then what's left from the chili explosion, then cheese.
Roll up and place in another damp paper towel and
microwave.  Beautiful.  Perfect.  Yum yum.


To go with my hot dog I had splurged and bought
myself diet IBC root beer in a bottle which I
had refrigerated.
I brought my hot dog and my drink into
the glass room and placed them on a TV tray and
got my playback of Judge Judy started!


The first bite was scrumptious!
But...the first drink was not cold enough.
I decided I had to get up and go to the kitchen to 
get some ice for my "beer."


People, do you sense what's coming?
NOOOOOOOOOOOoooooo!!!!


NOT MY DIETETIC, SOMEWHAT HEALTHY,
VERY SPECIAL HOT DOG.
GONE IN ONE BITE!!!!!


I forgot to say.  It smelled really good, too.


I didn't even get real mad at her.
It was--after all--as usual--my fault!
I left it where she could reach it!




Thursday, July 3, 2014

I Guess I Was Scammed Today

It happened about 4:30 this afternoon.
Susannah and I were traveling south on Bowen Road.
As we slowed to stop at the signal at Pleasant Ridge,
we saw a nice looking, neatly dressed man
on the sidewalk by the QT station
holding a cardboard sign which said,
"Stranded with children.
Need help with gas..." 
 
That's all I can remember that it said.

Our eyes traveled over to a woman holding a little girl
 in the parking lot of the station.
They also were neatly dressed.
The little girl even had a bow in her hair.


The only money I had was a $100 bill and a few 1's.
I'm thankful that Susannah was on a time schedule
(that's why I was driving her)
so I didn't really think of handing him the hundred.
I think that was a good thing.


 I dropped Susannah at home and headed right
back to the QT.
I was hoping they would still be there so I
could help.
Sure enough, they were.
I parked and got out and asked the man if
I could fill up his car for him.
He said "a guy" had already done that,
but nodded toward another lady who had stopped
and said something about her having given them
some cash, because that tank of gas
was not going to get them home
"in that thing."  "That thing" was a 
reasonable looking tan van.
I went in and had the hundred broken up
and gave them $50.
His matter-of-fact reaction aroused some
suspicion in me.


I asked them, "What happened?"
The man said they were from Spring, TX.
When they tried to use their credit card it was
rejected, making them suspect a case of 
stolen identity.


I left, made a big circle around, and came back by.
They were still there.
I didn't have any obligations myself, so I pulled
up into the Moore's lot and did a bit of surveillance.
I saw a person stop and send a child to take them
money.  I watched a few people hand them cash
from the windows of their cars. 


Susannah and I had felt so sorry for this nice
looking man having to beg.
"How humiliating for him," I had said.
Now I wasn't quite so sure. 


I guess what made me most suspicious was this:
With a tank full of gas and some cash,
why didn't they start for home so they could
get their credit card situation straightened out?


If this was a scam, it was unique and
well executed.
If it wasn't, I'm sorry for being suspicious.


 
Su