Wednesday, September 3, 2014
A stormy night. I turned CPAP off after the power went out. When the alarm went off, I showed it to Donna (who had to work today, I'm still on vacation). She said, "Go back to sleep" and I did. When my eyes popped open the house was silent except for the dishwasher in the kitchen. It was 8:24 AM and she showered, dressed, made lunch, started the dishwasher and left for work while I heard nothing.
On a whim, I checked my blood sugar and got 122. On a whim, I thought, 'That means there is sugar in my blood that I haven't used yet,' so I went through my morning routine without breakfast. I told myself that if 100 was the upper number for 'normal' blood sugar, then I would try to burn it off and not eat until it was 100 or less. I did drink my normal nearly-pint of water and inhaled my Advair. I also made coffee, I deferred on it until later.
Dressed and ready for the day, I noticed that I wasn't winded after my shower, drying off, or even making the bed. This is nice, so I thought I would take a walk. Google Maps tells me that walking the circle of our housing edition is seven-tenths of a mile. I did that in about 29 minutes (a minute short of a half-hour after I started). I am glad I took my cane for about a quarter of the way the sidewalk slopes toward the street, so the cane gave me comfortable balance. That was the only balance issue I had since my morning shower this morning.
The last half of the trip was the hardest. I was stumbling a bit, not because of balance so much as fatigue. I was sweating strongly and wondered if I needed another shower. Laying down under a ceiling fan, after shedding my outer clothes, I thought "Sleep is going to come quickly." It didn't.
After a while in which my eyes simply would not stay closed. While my sweating had stopped or greatly diminished in the subsequent 15 minutes, I noticed that my joints were aching and realized that I had not done this in a while. On a whim, still laying down, I started some stretching and exercise that I used to do a long time ago. There were a couple of leg lifts: hold a leg up a short distance from the floor, or bed in this case, and count out some time, which was only to ten this time. I alternately stretched my legs this way and that, apart and together. The burning in my hip socket stopped but I was sweating again even after that minimal effort.
I got up and noticed the list Donna had for me and took in a couple more items (one I did before the walk). Then I sat down and checked the blood sugar again: 100. Great, I'll have lunch. First, though, I thought I might want to record this. Therefore this note. As I thought about it in closing, I only had to back track to catch about three little typos--misspelling three just now made it four, oops, misspelling it with if made it five, nope, misspelling if again made it six. I thinhk I will quit wbefore it gets worse. (where did this bout of fumble fingers come from?)
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Monday, September 1, 2014
A Little Work This Morning
Monday, AugustSeptember 91, 2014
I awoke to a telephone ring, just one ring, but memy cell phone beside my dbed did not indicate I got a call. If anything was 'clear as a bell' that ring was. (BTW, we haven't had a landline phone for a long time, just cell phones, and Donna's phone has d uses different ringers and beeps than mine).
I walked down the hall and wallked in a straight line using only one comforting orienting touch on the door post as I left the bedroom. I walked to the kitchen without the slightest light-headedness or uncertainty. I thought, and said, this is going to be a good day. I took my normal large glass of water with a fish oil supploement. I had thought that if I was having a problem with righid and inflexible blood vessels in my head, the supposed cause of my dizzyness when standing or studdenly and if one of the features of the omega (2, 6,7, whatever the number was) fatty acids was somewhat in that direction then I would take more than the mere one pill a day in hopes that this little bit may help some.
Donna had , no was making, a blueberry coffee cake. It was a fun moment when after I drinking my water and taking that fish oil pill (and my advair inhalation) I playfully came close behind her to watch her work the dough. I thought 'thouse were big chocolate chpips then I had to laugh and told her why. The picture just came to mind that she was rinsing a pile of blueberries while I was pouring my water a moment ago. She joined me in the laugh.
I started my shave and shwoower routine and all began well enough. I opened the cabinet drawer without a moment's hesitation and scaresely a glance at what I was reaching for. The mental hiccups began in the shower (belyond the chocolate chip and blueberry thing) when A i I forgot what I had or hand hadn't washed after shampooing my hair.
After drying my off I was winded, although not dizzy, just breathing hard as if that little bit was work. I made my bed and put on my underwear and still was breathing like I had just climebed a bunch of stairs. I heard the distant ding of the timer on the stove and went down the hall to help start set up for breakfacst. Donna had already got the plates out and was almost finished with a couple of scrambled eggs (got to have some protien protein, as Donna prefers). I made coffee (she doesn't drink it) and we sat down to breakfast which was a fvery pleasant time we don't offten get to sher share tot together on Morning that don't start with Sat or Sun.
I don't remember now if it was this morning or the previous morning that she noticed a te tremble or tremor with my fingers but the picture of that comes to mind.
Now the part where I thought to start this note for today.
Donna was editing some materials for her work. She was trying to make up some work time because she had been away for taxi service to me and doctors now that I can't drive. She was reading and comparing soem some Bible verses where they were chaning the changing editions or was checking the work of the previous authors who may have been using different Bible editions. There was an e odd expression that she read out loud. It didn't sound quite right to either of us (we were sharing the same table as I was on the Internet), though we both had grown up with and accom accustomed to the phrasing of the King James Version.
I looked it up on biblehub.com to compare the Greek phrasing. I saw that there was a different word sh chosen for part of the expression in question. Looking up the word's meaning I understood where the unexpected translation phrac phrasing came from. Then I looked at the parallell passages from the list the page provided. I described the difference, as best as I could haltingly say for I stumbled at the words. I described the set of tests texts, briefly, and the distinction of scholarly traditions and how that they probably illustrate why a certain common and previously popular translation was being replaced by our denomination, and how various older univorm uniform tet texts standards which led to the more familiar phrasing were ignored in favor of 19th century notions of scholarship. Just as I was about to describe the roots of divergence I saw the expression on Donna's face. It was a patient "That's nice, honey" look that told me I had gone on far more than she wanted but she was happy that I still had a hold of some of my sp smarts and education. So I finished the thought with something about an expression for a multiple few in its singular form, which essenntially would be as if we were to say a 'two or three' kind of "several" was redefined by the Greek expression's setting as a singular. She smiled with kindness and returned to her work.
At that point, I felt as if this moment needed recording.
As you may have noticed, this time, and it was hard, I did not go back and fix a lot of my spelling and phrasing transgressions--which was a bit hard at times to do. Those where spell-checker flagged with a red underline I noted by an overstricke so to flag what I would normally have not typed or at least retyped if I saw it. This is not normal of me.
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Tired Easily
Saturday, August 30, 2014
This morning started nicely, but I tire easily. Went to Walmart and had to sit out the grocery shopping about midway, leaving Donna to do the middle. Hard to focus on the words on boxes and cans for part of it, but not other. Went to the car to doze while Donna checked out.
Dizzy getting out of the car. Tired in Price Cutter and sat out half of her shopping. Dozed in a chair there. When I checked my blood pressure there it was very, very good, for me at least. So that wasn't it. I texted Donna with the numbers.
After lunch I went to bed to nap a couple of minutes after 12, using my CPAP until I awoke at close to 2:30 and snoozed again until Donna got home a few minutes after 3.
I was easily confused while watching TV tonight. 9 pm bedtime and I am VERY ready.
This morning started nicely, but I tire easily. Went to Walmart and had to sit out the grocery shopping about midway, leaving Donna to do the middle. Hard to focus on the words on boxes and cans for part of it, but not other. Went to the car to doze while Donna checked out.
Dizzy getting out of the car. Tired in Price Cutter and sat out half of her shopping. Dozed in a chair there. When I checked my blood pressure there it was very, very good, for me at least. So that wasn't it. I texted Donna with the numbers.
After lunch I went to bed to nap a couple of minutes after 12, using my CPAP until I awoke at close to 2:30 and snoozed again until Donna got home a few minutes after 3.
I was easily confused while watching TV tonight. 9 pm bedtime and I am VERY ready.
Friday, August 29, 2014
A Good Day
Friday, August 29, 2014
This was a good day. A really good day. This morning I mowed the front lawn and trimmed a few bushes. It took me two hours and, after taking out the time for naps, was merely half-again as long as I would normally do it. I am so glad James talked me into a self-propelled mower a few years ago.
After a shower, that is almost as much work as working but cleaner, I felt kind of trembly, the spelling checker doesn't like that word but I don't know what to do with it to make it happy because jittery which the spell checker likes is not the right word. Anyway, I looked around for my sugar checker thing and didn't find it. So I had lunch.
Donna saved me the last of the lunch meat, two slices of hers and one of mine, and the last slice of bread (which reminds me I need to get another loaf out of the big freezer) for me to make a half-sandwich. Then my normal half-cup of frozen peas and carrots which I heat in the microwave and add a little fake butter for flavor (I think it is Promise this month). I already had a large glass of water, which I like to have either a half-hour or so before and, or, another about an hour or so afterwards. I'm hoping that will aid my digestion and not hinder.
After an hour and a half of nap, I did some other chores around the house: shredded some old papers that have our names with account numbers and such; folded some towels; ran the sweeper through the living room, hallway, and bedroom; put away some dishes from the drainer; ran the dishwasher; added more soap to the small dishwasher soap box from the bigger economy box (which was more work than I expected as I had to break up clods and lumps); and sat down to do this note.
I thought a day or so ago that perhaps I might just type ahead and ignore the errors, but that would sort of spoil the moment. After all, I'm having a good day.
This was a good day. A really good day. This morning I mowed the front lawn and trimmed a few bushes. It took me two hours and, after taking out the time for naps, was merely half-again as long as I would normally do it. I am so glad James talked me into a self-propelled mower a few years ago.
After a shower, that is almost as much work as working but cleaner, I felt kind of trembly, the spelling checker doesn't like that word but I don't know what to do with it to make it happy because jittery which the spell checker likes is not the right word. Anyway, I looked around for my sugar checker thing and didn't find it. So I had lunch.
Donna saved me the last of the lunch meat, two slices of hers and one of mine, and the last slice of bread (which reminds me I need to get another loaf out of the big freezer) for me to make a half-sandwich. Then my normal half-cup of frozen peas and carrots which I heat in the microwave and add a little fake butter for flavor (I think it is Promise this month). I already had a large glass of water, which I like to have either a half-hour or so before and, or, another about an hour or so afterwards. I'm hoping that will aid my digestion and not hinder.
After an hour and a half of nap, I did some other chores around the house: shredded some old papers that have our names with account numbers and such; folded some towels; ran the sweeper through the living room, hallway, and bedroom; put away some dishes from the drainer; ran the dishwasher; added more soap to the small dishwasher soap box from the bigger economy box (which was more work than I expected as I had to break up clods and lumps); and sat down to do this note.
I thought a day or so ago that perhaps I might just type ahead and ignore the errors, but that would sort of spoil the moment. After all, I'm having a good day.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
A Nice Day
Thursday, August 28, 2014
A good night's sleep. Feeling almost fresh and nearly normal. Thinking a little slowly but the world is bright and in focus.
Walking down the hall involved a little bit of course correction but this is just an affirming touch, not a running into doorways thing or grabbing for support like yesterday. I got around without a single moment even suggesting a fall or potential fall.
The closest thing to disorientation, however, was holding a thought. I needed to take out the trash and hopefully fetch the vehicle inspection from the Oldsmobile in order to renew the car tags online. I remembered both things, but since I had forgotten the keys to the car I would need to go back inside for that. I replaced the trash bag in the trash can and still remembered that I needed the car keys so that was good. When I went to get the keys I found myself in a different room wondering why I was there so I backtracked for the keys and got the paper from the car. Looking at the computer I remembered that I would need the tax receipt for a question that I remembered would be part of the online transaction. On the way to the room where that was I thought I would need my glasses also. I got my glasses and returned and forgot--as I write I forgot what I forgot but see it on the table in front of me and now the picture of my getting that tax receipt comes back into view.
I am surprised at how often I have to go back to correct typing errors. I used to be a pretty good typist and compared to how hard it was yesterday afternoon, I'm doing quite well.
A good night's sleep. Feeling almost fresh and nearly normal. Thinking a little slowly but the world is bright and in focus.
Walking down the hall involved a little bit of course correction but this is just an affirming touch, not a running into doorways thing or grabbing for support like yesterday. I got around without a single moment even suggesting a fall or potential fall.
The closest thing to disorientation, however, was holding a thought. I needed to take out the trash and hopefully fetch the vehicle inspection from the Oldsmobile in order to renew the car tags online. I remembered both things, but since I had forgotten the keys to the car I would need to go back inside for that. I replaced the trash bag in the trash can and still remembered that I needed the car keys so that was good. When I went to get the keys I found myself in a different room wondering why I was there so I backtracked for the keys and got the paper from the car. Looking at the computer I remembered that I would need the tax receipt for a question that I remembered would be part of the online transaction. On the way to the room where that was I thought I would need my glasses also. I got my glasses and returned and forgot--as I write I forgot what I forgot but see it on the table in front of me and now the picture of my getting that tax receipt comes back into view.
I am surprised at how often I have to go back to correct typing errors. I used to be a pretty good typist and compared to how hard it was yesterday afternoon, I'm doing quite well.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Afternoon Naps
August 27, 2014, Supplemental Note
Although I had already written a note this morning for today, the afternoon naps needed noting.
I had folded some towels and put them away and thought a nap would be nice. I write this having just awakened by a phone call from Donna and some things are not straight in my mind but sort of bubble up with clarity. If this doesn't make sense I'm sorry but I am trying to explain a moment that may explain, show, what is wrong. Something not right.
I lay down thinking. Flitting from thought to thought like a bird outside on a tree.I didn't think I was asleep when I awoke with a need to go to the bathroom. I sat up on the side of my bed and felt like I was tumbling into the floor but could see myself in the mirror. My head was bobbing in a different direction. It was confusing so I lay back down again. I remember glancing at the clock, my cellphone, and much more than the couple of minutes of seeming sleeplessness with my eyes closed had passed. I raised back up again, but more slowly, and could then get up to go to the bathroom. I only seemed wobbly when I washed my face after washing my hands after.
I laid back down, placing my cell phone on the pillow beside me, closed my eyes. I thought I was up, I don't remember what I was doing but suddenly things dissolved and the phone on the pillow appeared in the middle of my view. Donna was calling to see if I was 'up to' going to church tonight.
Well, I wasn't feeling up to much of anything.
The phone says she called at 3:55. I sat down to start this note at 4:02. It is now 4:28. I am thankfully not in pain, but I am not quite right.
Although I had already written a note this morning for today, the afternoon naps needed noting.
I had folded some towels and put them away and thought a nap would be nice. I write this having just awakened by a phone call from Donna and some things are not straight in my mind but sort of bubble up with clarity. If this doesn't make sense I'm sorry but I am trying to explain a moment that may explain, show, what is wrong. Something not right.
I lay down thinking. Flitting from thought to thought like a bird outside on a tree.I didn't think I was asleep when I awoke with a need to go to the bathroom. I sat up on the side of my bed and felt like I was tumbling into the floor but could see myself in the mirror. My head was bobbing in a different direction. It was confusing so I lay back down again. I remember glancing at the clock, my cellphone, and much more than the couple of minutes of seeming sleeplessness with my eyes closed had passed. I raised back up again, but more slowly, and could then get up to go to the bathroom. I only seemed wobbly when I washed my face after washing my hands after.
I laid back down, placing my cell phone on the pillow beside me, closed my eyes. I thought I was up, I don't remember what I was doing but suddenly things dissolved and the phone on the pillow appeared in the middle of my view. Donna was calling to see if I was 'up to' going to church tonight.
Well, I wasn't feeling up to much of anything.
The phone says she called at 3:55. I sat down to start this note at 4:02. It is now 4:28. I am thankfully not in pain, but I am not quite right.
Unbalanced
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Normal forgetfulness, such as unable to place the tune, much less the words, when I started to sing in the shower. One came to mind when I was almost through but only half of the chorus. Yesterday, I got a song book out and [why did my cursor just bounce to another place on the screen?] and sang a song through twice, all four verses and the chorus after each, and yet I had to go back to find a word that was missing a mere hour later. I don't remember the name of the song but I know that I've sang it often over most of my 60 years.
This morning, Donna told me to get the car tags for the Oldsmobile ordered online. I said we need to get it inspected. She said we already did. I remember getting the Mercury inspected. I remember Donna going with me recently for the oil change and vehicle inspection, but I thought that was for the Mercury. It was hard to connect the pictures in my memory. I am not convinced that I have but if we did then I have to.
The normal balance issues again today. I reached for the door post and missed at first try when needing to change my course a bit to leave the bedroom. I used my common trick of holding my right hand out just a little to stay in contact with the wall. It helps we walk a little straighter but I still found myself at the left side of the hallway before I got to the end.
There was something about some balance issues I had in the kitchen this morning that I know I wanted to note, but they simply aren't coming to me right now.
I had a nap of about 40 minutes. There was something I wanted to be sure to write down, prompting me to start this note. It seems I haven't covered it when rereading this note but I have no idea what it was now.
Normal forgetfulness, such as unable to place the tune, much less the words, when I started to sing in the shower. One came to mind when I was almost through but only half of the chorus. Yesterday, I got a song book out and [why did my cursor just bounce to another place on the screen?] and sang a song through twice, all four verses and the chorus after each, and yet I had to go back to find a word that was missing a mere hour later. I don't remember the name of the song but I know that I've sang it often over most of my 60 years.
This morning, Donna told me to get the car tags for the Oldsmobile ordered online. I said we need to get it inspected. She said we already did. I remember getting the Mercury inspected. I remember Donna going with me recently for the oil change and vehicle inspection, but I thought that was for the Mercury. It was hard to connect the pictures in my memory. I am not convinced that I have but if we did then I have to.
The normal balance issues again today. I reached for the door post and missed at first try when needing to change my course a bit to leave the bedroom. I used my common trick of holding my right hand out just a little to stay in contact with the wall. It helps we walk a little straighter but I still found myself at the left side of the hallway before I got to the end.
There was something about some balance issues I had in the kitchen this morning that I know I wanted to note, but they simply aren't coming to me right now.
I had a nap of about 40 minutes. There was something I wanted to be sure to write down, prompting me to start this note. It seems I haven't covered it when rereading this note but I have no idea what it was now.
Monday, August 25, 2014
Monday, August 25, 2014
Eventful weekend. Emotional meltdown when grandson started crying. Autistic four year old. He ran to me and I held him and sang "his" song to him: Jesus Loves Me. He stopped crying. I started and didn't stop for a long time.
Saturday was interesting. Went to KMart. Donna's parents were visiting and they like that store. I was standing near the check-out line and a woman in an electric-motor shopping cart tapped me on the arm. "Do you need this cart? I'll stand if you need it," she said with a worried voice. I politely declined. At least I think I did.
Sunday I awoke from a dream with urgency. Something out of Dr. Who, which never impressed me. So I thought. Friends were helping me move. Loading things, more things than I own, into the back of a camper-shell covered pickup. From inside it was bigger than my living room but from outside it was a small bed pickup. A hail storm started. I searched for Donna's parents to make sure they got out of the storm. That woke me up. I remembered that they would be loading their car to go home this morning. Hurrying to put my jeans on and help them, I stumbled more than I am right now trying to type straight.
I was no help. Too dizzy and clumsy. Went back to bed after they left. I had my instant nap where it was 30 minutes later when I opened my eyes a minute after closing them. Amazing change. Not dizzy, clear-headed, alert.
This morning, Monday, when my alarm went off I shut off my CPAP and rolled over. That instant nap was a little over an hour. I felt fine but dizziness crept up. I had trouble focusing. I almost lost my balance (I was typing away and realized that no letters were appearing--I do hope that was a computer glitch and not me). Balance, yes, while trying to bring my face to see the numbers. Then I turned to go elsewhere in the kitchen and thought I was about to fall because I missed the doorway when I tried to catch myself but grabbed just as I was going down. I covered the bowl of left-over gravy and went to heat it up, but opened the refrigerator door instead of the microwave.
I didn't want to write this but felt like I needed to try. Too much and too long. I didn't want some of this to simply fall into the empty holes.
Eventful weekend. Emotional meltdown when grandson started crying. Autistic four year old. He ran to me and I held him and sang "his" song to him: Jesus Loves Me. He stopped crying. I started and didn't stop for a long time.
Saturday was interesting. Went to KMart. Donna's parents were visiting and they like that store. I was standing near the check-out line and a woman in an electric-motor shopping cart tapped me on the arm. "Do you need this cart? I'll stand if you need it," she said with a worried voice. I politely declined. At least I think I did.
Sunday I awoke from a dream with urgency. Something out of Dr. Who, which never impressed me. So I thought. Friends were helping me move. Loading things, more things than I own, into the back of a camper-shell covered pickup. From inside it was bigger than my living room but from outside it was a small bed pickup. A hail storm started. I searched for Donna's parents to make sure they got out of the storm. That woke me up. I remembered that they would be loading their car to go home this morning. Hurrying to put my jeans on and help them, I stumbled more than I am right now trying to type straight.
I was no help. Too dizzy and clumsy. Went back to bed after they left. I had my instant nap where it was 30 minutes later when I opened my eyes a minute after closing them. Amazing change. Not dizzy, clear-headed, alert.
This morning, Monday, when my alarm went off I shut off my CPAP and rolled over. That instant nap was a little over an hour. I felt fine but dizziness crept up. I had trouble focusing. I almost lost my balance (I was typing away and realized that no letters were appearing--I do hope that was a computer glitch and not me). Balance, yes, while trying to bring my face to see the numbers. Then I turned to go elsewhere in the kitchen and thought I was about to fall because I missed the doorway when I tried to catch myself but grabbed just as I was going down. I covered the bowl of left-over gravy and went to heat it up, but opened the refrigerator door instead of the microwave.
I didn't want to write this but felt like I needed to try. Too much and too long. I didn't want some of this to simply fall into the empty holes.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Entering the Twilight Zone
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Monday I had a series of tests that would, hopefully, provide some clues as to 'what ails me'. There was one set of tests that simply amazed me. I had taken a test like that many years ago and finished the whole page with time to spare, but this time was so very, very different. There was a short code for a basic set of numbers, essentially 0 through 9, or 1 through 9, I forget which but a small set nonetheless. When time ran out, I think I was starting either the third or fourth row, I only had three of those codes memorized.
There was my Charlie Brown moment on another test. A series of words, things, was given, and then given, and given, and somewhere an exasperated "one more time" was given for a second time. It was a simple memory thing that making a chain would solve. I remember it started with Truck, then Spinach, then Giraffe, and the chain, the pictures, the pegs, the . . . every trick I tried, was not coming to me. I had little snippets of sets of things that seemed to be somewhat in order relative to other snippets of things. Since the normal sequencing efforts failed, I tried bunching things that were somewhat alike. That got a curious smile and I realized shortly later why when she asked me questions like: name just the animals, name just the vegetables, name just the modes of transportation. I got the feeling like the several lists had different numbers of items, but an increasing number of more solidly remembered things. Then there were a couple of things that I fairly often guessed were there but wasn't really sure. So then I hear, "Now we have a different list . . ." at which moment my heart sank and I thought, "I'm doomed." When I was asked to identify from a list of names which were on the first list--that was simple, those names were familiar. The only thing I remember of the second list was that violin was an early item.
Angela was administering the tests (and if her name wasn't that then it is the label I am giving her for this conversation) and said that she was glad that I tried hard because it would make for better results. At the beginning of the testing she said I was not to feel guilt, shame, or embarrassment if my results did not match my expectations. I did not feel guilt, shame, or embarrassment--I was shocked, astounded, and befuddled at how poorly I performed. I don't know what that test tells others, but my personal self-image based on what I used to be. I don't know if Donna caught it, but there was a time when walking back to the car that I was quietly humming "The Old Grey Mare (ain't what she used to be)" in hopes that no one would strike up the band for a rousing "If I only had a brain".
After that, I had the feeling my head were stuffed with cotton and when I got home I went straight to bed. Donna lay next to me. It seemed as if she were wanting me to cuddle, or more, but nothing was stirring. I rolled over and she suggested that I put my CPAP machine to work. It was like one of those 'passed out' moments of sleep where I closed my eyes and then opened them immediately later but it was much later, two hours later. I took care of my bathroom need and laid back down, without the CPAP. I closed my eyes and they popped open so quickly that I just knew no time had passed, but the shadows were wrong. It was an hour and a half later still. I have no idea when Donna got up, dressed, and left the room but she did.
Tuesday seemed like a good day. I seem to think that I felt rested and alert. I remember that at some time in the afternoon I felt flummoxed at the realization that I had just written something completely incomprehensible so I stopped to work on another task. I don't remember what it was. I got a text message, which I did not read because it would be James saying he was on his way to take me home. I didn't bother reading it but closed things down right away because I had made him wait the last couple of times he came for me. Walking out of the building, into the brightness of the waning day, I realized that everything, everything, was very blurred. There was a dark car, and the driver had the familiar wrap-around iridescent bug-eyed sunglasses (I don't know why these words are here or where above they belong but this "and turned around" is at the end of the text I am typing). Well, I went to open the door, but it was locked. I tapped on the window by the lock and the driver hit the unlock button. As I started to step into the car it suddenly looked unfamiliar. A young woman spoke and said, "I'm sorry but this is the wrong car." I backed up so fast that I thought I was going to fall down. I apologized profusely, shut the car door, and retreated toward the building entrance. Looking at the text, James said he had to finish something and would be a bit late.
Wednesday, today, started out in great fashion. I was alert but the morning sun's brightness hurt my eyes so I closed them for most of the way to work as Donna drove. She, and I, no longer trust my driving, plus Dr. Jennifer was quite clear that I shouldn't. I didn't go to sleep or even want to. The double kick of Nuvigil and my restarted Advair (for my asthma) got me going just shy of jittery. Arriving at work, however, there was the indication that the day would not be as nice as I hoped. I was dizzy on standing up, which by now is normal. I turned and saw my lunch in the back seat and reached for it--the window was not open. Trying to open the locked door, Donna clicked the button unlocking the doors, but I reached around to unlock the now unlocked door anyway, realizing it just as my hand touched the knob. I got my lunch, said good bye, and tried to get the handicap door push plate to read my key fob.
Inside and to the elevator (I am forbidden from using the stairs but was feeling too tired at the moment to even consider it after a very long short walk from the handicap entrance to the elevators). I leaned against the elevator wall to rest for the long trip up the single floor to where my office is. I was short of breath and knew this was not a good way to start a day.
At my office I began to start the coffee. Standing over the trash can I had to think in order to take the lid off the drip canister and then dump the previous day's grounds into the trash. When I was at the water fountain to rinse and then fill the pitcher (I just typed picture) I started to put it under the fountain with the lid down. The rest was largely normal for the next half-hour.
Going down to chapel, every Wednesday morning, I almost fell atop a woman sitting on the end of the last row as I had balance problems making the corner to the aisle. The school president, Dr. Gary, was speaking, on change. It is inevitable, unavoidable. Necessary. While we were filing out he was directly behind me and I commented, "Encouraged everyone to embrace change and here I am the twig that is about to be pruned." He gave a soft smile (he knows) and a comforting pat on my shoulder.
A little over an hour later came the moment when I knew that I wasn't going to be any good here. I had entered the Twilight Zone. I tried to read where I left off at the previous writing of how my replacement will need to do my job. I got lost in a reference to earlier and when I found it the writing simply was incomprehensible to me.
Plunging ahead, I went back to start the next point in the task. I described paragraph styles and the one needed for formatting the book's Title and Pro, the word isn't coming to me, but the next page, which has the copyright page on its back. I described how the new "brand" scheme dictated that those titles be in all caps but our division management prefers title case. I named and described the pertinent paragraph style and how to place the Title Case text and how if the over-something condition is reset that the default was for all caps and it would change. Then I clicked to make sure of a little detail in my instructions, the exact wording of my instructions precisely matched what the operator would see in the program--it didn't work. I tried again and it didn't work. I looked at the two pages affected with those instructions and they were suddenly different. I glanced over at the paragraph style description I had so meticulously described, and then back at the program--they weren't the same.
I looked at what I had written and it was full of description, specific and technical description, that did not apply to what I was now looking at in the program. I checked that I was in the right parts of the document. This was simply too strange.
I called Donna to take me home, and she did. I had a bit of lunch and then a nap. It was a close my eyes and suddenly 30 minutes later when I opened them. We did some work around the house. She had taken the week off for taxi service to my doctor's appointments and get ready for her parents to come to visit. Kylie will be seven on Friday and it was going to be a good party. I got tired and took another nap. This was not the same. I felt like a ghost exploring sounds in the house through a dark fog even though I realized it was in the middle of the day. I heard a noise and I was staring at the ceiling of my bedroom at a quarter to five. I laid down around 3:30.
As I started this note, I wondered why I chose that title. Then I remembered why I was home and not at work. I couldn't write. Now, almost 8 PM, it is as the song, "all coming back to me now." As often as I used to kick myself over little faults and failures, perhaps this memory loss is a good thing. It isn't "all" coming back and that change is a bit of blessing in disguise.
Monday I had a series of tests that would, hopefully, provide some clues as to 'what ails me'. There was one set of tests that simply amazed me. I had taken a test like that many years ago and finished the whole page with time to spare, but this time was so very, very different. There was a short code for a basic set of numbers, essentially 0 through 9, or 1 through 9, I forget which but a small set nonetheless. When time ran out, I think I was starting either the third or fourth row, I only had three of those codes memorized.
There was my Charlie Brown moment on another test. A series of words, things, was given, and then given, and given, and somewhere an exasperated "one more time" was given for a second time. It was a simple memory thing that making a chain would solve. I remember it started with Truck, then Spinach, then Giraffe, and the chain, the pictures, the pegs, the . . . every trick I tried, was not coming to me. I had little snippets of sets of things that seemed to be somewhat in order relative to other snippets of things. Since the normal sequencing efforts failed, I tried bunching things that were somewhat alike. That got a curious smile and I realized shortly later why when she asked me questions like: name just the animals, name just the vegetables, name just the modes of transportation. I got the feeling like the several lists had different numbers of items, but an increasing number of more solidly remembered things. Then there were a couple of things that I fairly often guessed were there but wasn't really sure. So then I hear, "Now we have a different list . . ." at which moment my heart sank and I thought, "I'm doomed." When I was asked to identify from a list of names which were on the first list--that was simple, those names were familiar. The only thing I remember of the second list was that violin was an early item.
Angela was administering the tests (and if her name wasn't that then it is the label I am giving her for this conversation) and said that she was glad that I tried hard because it would make for better results. At the beginning of the testing she said I was not to feel guilt, shame, or embarrassment if my results did not match my expectations. I did not feel guilt, shame, or embarrassment--I was shocked, astounded, and befuddled at how poorly I performed. I don't know what that test tells others, but my personal self-image based on what I used to be. I don't know if Donna caught it, but there was a time when walking back to the car that I was quietly humming "The Old Grey Mare (ain't what she used to be)" in hopes that no one would strike up the band for a rousing "If I only had a brain".
After that, I had the feeling my head were stuffed with cotton and when I got home I went straight to bed. Donna lay next to me. It seemed as if she were wanting me to cuddle, or more, but nothing was stirring. I rolled over and she suggested that I put my CPAP machine to work. It was like one of those 'passed out' moments of sleep where I closed my eyes and then opened them immediately later but it was much later, two hours later. I took care of my bathroom need and laid back down, without the CPAP. I closed my eyes and they popped open so quickly that I just knew no time had passed, but the shadows were wrong. It was an hour and a half later still. I have no idea when Donna got up, dressed, and left the room but she did.
Tuesday seemed like a good day. I seem to think that I felt rested and alert. I remember that at some time in the afternoon I felt flummoxed at the realization that I had just written something completely incomprehensible so I stopped to work on another task. I don't remember what it was. I got a text message, which I did not read because it would be James saying he was on his way to take me home. I didn't bother reading it but closed things down right away because I had made him wait the last couple of times he came for me. Walking out of the building, into the brightness of the waning day, I realized that everything, everything, was very blurred. There was a dark car, and the driver had the familiar wrap-around iridescent bug-eyed sunglasses (I don't know why these words are here or where above they belong but this "and turned around" is at the end of the text I am typing). Well, I went to open the door, but it was locked. I tapped on the window by the lock and the driver hit the unlock button. As I started to step into the car it suddenly looked unfamiliar. A young woman spoke and said, "I'm sorry but this is the wrong car." I backed up so fast that I thought I was going to fall down. I apologized profusely, shut the car door, and retreated toward the building entrance. Looking at the text, James said he had to finish something and would be a bit late.
Wednesday, today, started out in great fashion. I was alert but the morning sun's brightness hurt my eyes so I closed them for most of the way to work as Donna drove. She, and I, no longer trust my driving, plus Dr. Jennifer was quite clear that I shouldn't. I didn't go to sleep or even want to. The double kick of Nuvigil and my restarted Advair (for my asthma) got me going just shy of jittery. Arriving at work, however, there was the indication that the day would not be as nice as I hoped. I was dizzy on standing up, which by now is normal. I turned and saw my lunch in the back seat and reached for it--the window was not open. Trying to open the locked door, Donna clicked the button unlocking the doors, but I reached around to unlock the now unlocked door anyway, realizing it just as my hand touched the knob. I got my lunch, said good bye, and tried to get the handicap door push plate to read my key fob.
Inside and to the elevator (I am forbidden from using the stairs but was feeling too tired at the moment to even consider it after a very long short walk from the handicap entrance to the elevators). I leaned against the elevator wall to rest for the long trip up the single floor to where my office is. I was short of breath and knew this was not a good way to start a day.
At my office I began to start the coffee. Standing over the trash can I had to think in order to take the lid off the drip canister and then dump the previous day's grounds into the trash. When I was at the water fountain to rinse and then fill the pitcher (I just typed picture) I started to put it under the fountain with the lid down. The rest was largely normal for the next half-hour.
Going down to chapel, every Wednesday morning, I almost fell atop a woman sitting on the end of the last row as I had balance problems making the corner to the aisle. The school president, Dr. Gary, was speaking, on change. It is inevitable, unavoidable. Necessary. While we were filing out he was directly behind me and I commented, "Encouraged everyone to embrace change and here I am the twig that is about to be pruned." He gave a soft smile (he knows) and a comforting pat on my shoulder.
A little over an hour later came the moment when I knew that I wasn't going to be any good here. I had entered the Twilight Zone. I tried to read where I left off at the previous writing of how my replacement will need to do my job. I got lost in a reference to earlier and when I found it the writing simply was incomprehensible to me.
Plunging ahead, I went back to start the next point in the task. I described paragraph styles and the one needed for formatting the book's Title and Pro, the word isn't coming to me, but the next page, which has the copyright page on its back. I described how the new "brand" scheme dictated that those titles be in all caps but our division management prefers title case. I named and described the pertinent paragraph style and how to place the Title Case text and how if the over-something condition is reset that the default was for all caps and it would change. Then I clicked to make sure of a little detail in my instructions, the exact wording of my instructions precisely matched what the operator would see in the program--it didn't work. I tried again and it didn't work. I looked at the two pages affected with those instructions and they were suddenly different. I glanced over at the paragraph style description I had so meticulously described, and then back at the program--they weren't the same.
I looked at what I had written and it was full of description, specific and technical description, that did not apply to what I was now looking at in the program. I checked that I was in the right parts of the document. This was simply too strange.
I called Donna to take me home, and she did. I had a bit of lunch and then a nap. It was a close my eyes and suddenly 30 minutes later when I opened them. We did some work around the house. She had taken the week off for taxi service to my doctor's appointments and get ready for her parents to come to visit. Kylie will be seven on Friday and it was going to be a good party. I got tired and took another nap. This was not the same. I felt like a ghost exploring sounds in the house through a dark fog even though I realized it was in the middle of the day. I heard a noise and I was staring at the ceiling of my bedroom at a quarter to five. I laid down around 3:30.
As I started this note, I wondered why I chose that title. Then I remembered why I was home and not at work. I couldn't write. Now, almost 8 PM, it is as the song, "all coming back to me now." As often as I used to kick myself over little faults and failures, perhaps this memory loss is a good thing. It isn't "all" coming back and that change is a bit of blessing in disguise.
Friday, August 15, 2014
Muddled Morning
8/15/14
Things are physically and mentally awkward this morning. The shower was clumsy. Drying off was clumsy. I could neither find words nor tune to sing or hum. Forgot to hang my washcloth on the shower door and I had to screw up my courage to reach out to the towel rack to get it.
Before the shower Donna asked me not to 'hike my leg up' to 'wash my toes'. I'm sure she meant when I dry my legs so I didn't. I thought of that when I had hesitancy in the shower because of balance issues, and that was with my eyes open. Long ago I got a fungal infection. The doctor called it 'jungle rot' although I had not been to the jungle. Since I was showering in a college dorm someone else obviously had. It left two 'scars' on my lower abdomen above my pubic area, a sort of blood poisoning kind of stain around the veins there.
Shower, toes, so I am careful to wash my toes because when I don't the fungus flares up again a few days later.
I wanted to tell about a meeting at work yesterday afternoon. I felt too tired to write or even think to write yesterday evening. It may have been better if I had.
Donna wanted to talk to my bosses about my job. She didn't trust that I was relaying everything to her and I am pretty much leaving her in charge of my care. Sometimes I don't think about things. Sometimes I can't think about things. Sometimes I can't be sure of my thinking when I think about things.
Robert was there, the old H.R. director. Jamie, the new H.R. director, was there. Dr. Carl, my department boss was there. Donna and I was there. I had sent a note some time before, Wednesday or Tuesday or even Monday, I'm not sure. Since that call from the insurance company about my disability claim, which was denied because I was still working and they didn't have enough medical proof of a disability. Long sentence. Sorry, I won't fix it.
I sent an email sometime to explain that while I have still some time off saved, I do hope that they would be so kind as to not fire me before it got down to my final two weeks worth. I sent a copy of that to Donna. She was alarmed but I thought it was a fair request.
Dr. Carl first said he wasn't going to fire me before this gets settled. Later, I thought he said he was going to write a letter. I thought it was about terminating me. I know we all felt comforted and pleased although I don't know now exactly why since those two ideas don't exactly seem to fit together.
Robert was making notes and asked if we should say this started getting serious in the last three months. Dr. Carl said it was getting worse in the last six weeks. He said he saw me stumble three times. I don't know which times but I don't remember of the ones that come to mind when he was around.
Dr. Carl said Dr. Gary, his boss, the school head, asked if I was still driving. Dr. Carl told Dr. Gary that someone helped me get to my car one day at the end of the day. Dr. Carl said it worried him that I then drove away. I thought hard then, and several times since, and I do not remember that happening. Donna said she was doing all the driving now and had been for several weeks.
Dr. Carl said Dr. Gary did not want me working for the school AND driving, Dr. Carl emphasized the 'and'.
Dr. Carl then ask when I was going to see the lung doctor. I could say it yesterday but today I can't spell it without getting flagged for a spelling error. He told of my being pleased that I could walk the several flights of stairs for a staff meeting and only get winded on the last set. He said that I often had trouble breathing when I took the stairs. Ms. Jamie spoke up. She firmly looked at me and said that I should never take the stairs again but use the elevators only. With all the heads of everyone nodding in agreement I didn't have the nerve to dispute it.
Robert then summarized some of the things that Dr. Carl said. Robert said he would make note of them when he was ready for the next application for my disability. Something else there but I don't remember what.
I asked if my being taken off of the faculty list was in there. Everyone seemed surprised. I described how Dr. Willard, my faculty dean, ordered that I be removed from grading and professor of record lists. I described that I was invited, and participated in two faculty events afterward but at the last one when I went to initial that I was present on the attendance paper my name was not on it. I looked around and no body was looking at or talking to me. I thought I was still on the faculty email list and the Outlook calendar notified me of the meeting from the faculty announcement list. I felt like I was being shunned. While I didn't tell of that feeling I relived the sense of it.
Dr. Carl told Robert that this definitely should go on the list. Robert said it would be good to have the date when I was officially demoted. Reminding again of the other two meetings I was involved in, I said I really have nothing drawing the line that cut me off. I don't remember whether Robert said he would get it from Dr. Willard or that I was supposed to but I think he was.
Dr. Carl spoke up and said that while he is my friend, he had his supervisor responsibilities and things simply cannot continue in the present direction. He said some other things that aren't coming to me but that I recall feeling comforted though they seemed to describe a 'writing on the wall' kind of thing. I certainly have a feeling of what I was feeling although the details simply aren't available right now.
Dr. Carl wanted to hear about the reports from these next three examinations. Robert described that he had copies of the previous reports that I got from our medical insurance company. This reminds me that I can take down that folder on my share file now. There was something about 'hiding in plain sight' that I told him when I moved the folder there after he said my links to the files would not work for him earlier. That is why I am being careful to only using everyone's first name on this blog.
Oh my, I am way over the time I was going to allow myself for these notes.
Things are physically and mentally awkward this morning. The shower was clumsy. Drying off was clumsy. I could neither find words nor tune to sing or hum. Forgot to hang my washcloth on the shower door and I had to screw up my courage to reach out to the towel rack to get it.
Before the shower Donna asked me not to 'hike my leg up' to 'wash my toes'. I'm sure she meant when I dry my legs so I didn't. I thought of that when I had hesitancy in the shower because of balance issues, and that was with my eyes open. Long ago I got a fungal infection. The doctor called it 'jungle rot' although I had not been to the jungle. Since I was showering in a college dorm someone else obviously had. It left two 'scars' on my lower abdomen above my pubic area, a sort of blood poisoning kind of stain around the veins there.
Shower, toes, so I am careful to wash my toes because when I don't the fungus flares up again a few days later.
I wanted to tell about a meeting at work yesterday afternoon. I felt too tired to write or even think to write yesterday evening. It may have been better if I had.
Donna wanted to talk to my bosses about my job. She didn't trust that I was relaying everything to her and I am pretty much leaving her in charge of my care. Sometimes I don't think about things. Sometimes I can't think about things. Sometimes I can't be sure of my thinking when I think about things.
Robert was there, the old H.R. director. Jamie, the new H.R. director, was there. Dr. Carl, my department boss was there. Donna and I was there. I had sent a note some time before, Wednesday or Tuesday or even Monday, I'm not sure. Since that call from the insurance company about my disability claim, which was denied because I was still working and they didn't have enough medical proof of a disability. Long sentence. Sorry, I won't fix it.
I sent an email sometime to explain that while I have still some time off saved, I do hope that they would be so kind as to not fire me before it got down to my final two weeks worth. I sent a copy of that to Donna. She was alarmed but I thought it was a fair request.
Dr. Carl first said he wasn't going to fire me before this gets settled. Later, I thought he said he was going to write a letter. I thought it was about terminating me. I know we all felt comforted and pleased although I don't know now exactly why since those two ideas don't exactly seem to fit together.
Robert was making notes and asked if we should say this started getting serious in the last three months. Dr. Carl said it was getting worse in the last six weeks. He said he saw me stumble three times. I don't know which times but I don't remember of the ones that come to mind when he was around.
Dr. Carl said Dr. Gary, his boss, the school head, asked if I was still driving. Dr. Carl told Dr. Gary that someone helped me get to my car one day at the end of the day. Dr. Carl said it worried him that I then drove away. I thought hard then, and several times since, and I do not remember that happening. Donna said she was doing all the driving now and had been for several weeks.
Dr. Carl said Dr. Gary did not want me working for the school AND driving, Dr. Carl emphasized the 'and'.
Dr. Carl then ask when I was going to see the lung doctor. I could say it yesterday but today I can't spell it without getting flagged for a spelling error. He told of my being pleased that I could walk the several flights of stairs for a staff meeting and only get winded on the last set. He said that I often had trouble breathing when I took the stairs. Ms. Jamie spoke up. She firmly looked at me and said that I should never take the stairs again but use the elevators only. With all the heads of everyone nodding in agreement I didn't have the nerve to dispute it.
Robert then summarized some of the things that Dr. Carl said. Robert said he would make note of them when he was ready for the next application for my disability. Something else there but I don't remember what.
I asked if my being taken off of the faculty list was in there. Everyone seemed surprised. I described how Dr. Willard, my faculty dean, ordered that I be removed from grading and professor of record lists. I described that I was invited, and participated in two faculty events afterward but at the last one when I went to initial that I was present on the attendance paper my name was not on it. I looked around and no body was looking at or talking to me. I thought I was still on the faculty email list and the Outlook calendar notified me of the meeting from the faculty announcement list. I felt like I was being shunned. While I didn't tell of that feeling I relived the sense of it.
Dr. Carl told Robert that this definitely should go on the list. Robert said it would be good to have the date when I was officially demoted. Reminding again of the other two meetings I was involved in, I said I really have nothing drawing the line that cut me off. I don't remember whether Robert said he would get it from Dr. Willard or that I was supposed to but I think he was.
Dr. Carl spoke up and said that while he is my friend, he had his supervisor responsibilities and things simply cannot continue in the present direction. He said some other things that aren't coming to me but that I recall feeling comforted though they seemed to describe a 'writing on the wall' kind of thing. I certainly have a feeling of what I was feeling although the details simply aren't available right now.
Dr. Carl wanted to hear about the reports from these next three examinations. Robert described that he had copies of the previous reports that I got from our medical insurance company. This reminds me that I can take down that folder on my share file now. There was something about 'hiding in plain sight' that I told him when I moved the folder there after he said my links to the files would not work for him earlier. That is why I am being careful to only using everyone's first name on this blog.
Oh my, I am way over the time I was going to allow myself for these notes.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Almost There
Thursday, August 14, 2014
This morning began good. Without effort, or so it seems, I walked down the hall at home without once needing to grab a doorway or push off of a wall to correct an awkward course. This is not my normal "bouncing off the walls" situation, an expression I used that puzzled Dr. Jennifer a while back. To the kitchen, after a pause to hear the weather prognostication from Brandon Beck that Donna was watching on TV, where I filled up my customary glass of water (something close to, but not quite, a full pint).
My 'normal thing' is to try to drink the whole thing without stopping. I believe the old expression was to "kill it" which as a kid we referred to a bottle of pop, but considering the character of some 'older people' I suspect that some folks did that with a bottle of beer, or worse. This habit (I just stopped to shoo a bug away from my field of vision, then I stopped waving it off because it might have been one of those little black spots that pop into my vision from time to time as my eyes do their age-adjustment thing; Dr. whats-his-name from the Missouri Eye Institute said a few, now and then, was not a problem but when they swarm and the swarm keeps getting bigger, then I needed to call him quickly; this, however, turned out to be a real, live gnat that lit on the computer monitor a moment ago and it likely spawned from the banana I had left-over on my desk from yesterday's lunch; now back to figure out where I was in the previous thought; I suspected that this 'rabbit trail' contained information that needed to be noted before I lost it), habit, oh yeah, I started it several years ago with the hopes that the water would sort of prime-the-pump for my constipation-prone digestive system to start the day. I noticed in a moment of impatience, where I tried to speed the process up by "killing the drink", that I seemed to be substantially more awake when I drank it before taking another breath.
Today, however, particularly being a work day, I take a pill of Nuvigil. Usually, this is along with my recently prescribed vitamin D supplement but yesterday Donna gave me the bag from the pharmacy and it had the next installment of the super-dose vitamin D. I took the super pill instead of the OTC supplement--and carefully placed that pill bottle apart from the once-daily medicines that I usually take at night. Hopefully, I have learned (another of Dr. Brittany's 'stressors' I suspect) not to overdose on this batch of weekly pills. The previous installment I had inadvertently taken daily for four days, discovering my error when telling Donna I need to get this prescription refilled. I remembered reading how these super doses of vitamin D could do the liver damage if too much was taken.
Starting my bathroom routine, I opened a drawer by the sink and looked at what was there blankly. The toothpaste I use last, so that was not it. The hairbrush I use after drying my hair following its wash in the shower. Ah, now I know, just a simple process of elimination. I used to reach in the drawer and grab what I wanted without having to think about it, or sometimes even look.
Next came the shower setup. Bathmat down from the towel rack. Towels transferred from the bathroom cabinet top, where Donna prefers to find hers when she steps out of the shower, to the towel rack, where I prefer to find mine when I finish showering. Wash cloth draped over the shower door. Then a pause--it is like I don't know what to do next. Ah, turn the water on and get in. Maybe there is a touch of Dr. Brittany's stressors in the background of that moment of lost-ness over a simple and mundane matter that has not taken thought for most of my 60 years.
Wondering if today would be like yesterday and the day before where I lost track of whether I had washed, or rinsed, my hair, or whether my face was wet because I just gave it my post-shampoo rinse or that I had just soaped my face and needed to rinse that off before I opened my eyes again. Unlike the previous days where I had to touch the shower wall and hand hold to make sure I was properly oriented with my eyes closed, today I didn't feel so disoriented.
I started to hum a tune as I shampooed my hair and soon found myself trying to rush the music faster than my lips would go. Ah ha! Either the Nuvigil or super-dose vitamin D had kicked in! The rest of the shower likewise went more smoothly, and much more quickly, than usual in recent weeks. (I also noticed while typing and editing my sentences as I go that I am not getting lost in finishing a thought, by the way)
It was amusing, as I wrapped things up, that yesterday I didn't see my washcloth for a moment because I normally toss it over the door to the bathmat after wiping water off the shower door window. That was because I didn't remember to wipe the excess water off the door yesterday, but did today. Then a moment's reality check happened to dampen my momentary mirth--I may have remembered to wipe the shower door down but I have absolutely no recollection of drying my legs. Drying my legs is important because of the potential for balance problems. Donna does not like it when I lift my leg and rest my foot on the bathroom cabinet top in order to dry my legs, for fear of my losing balance. (I always, in recent years at least, also lean against the shower wall so I am firmly planted, in my own mind and sense of balance, on one foot and a shoulder on the wall) On the other hand, as she seems not to realize, I fear bending over to dry my legs. I quickly become unbalanced when my head lowers as I towel my lower legs dry. The catch today was that my legs were dry and I have absolutely no recollection of drying them even though I remember these other details with my formerly usual clarity.
As I went to write this posting, I discovered the draft of the one I intended to close yesterday with. Yesterday became difficult as the day wore on, but after a nap and dinner I felt better and began to write my recollections of the struggles, but nothing much came. I see I stopped in mid-sentence. I have no idea what I was going to say in that sentence but recall feeling frustrated. It seemed as if the note of that morning, which started this blog, was written with an almost entirely different mind than I then possessed. Paging back and forth, I tried to copy the style of phrasing in hopes it would refresh those prosaic juices but what was pouring out of my head seemed a comparative 'stick figure'. I erased what I had done and tried to start again, fresh, but simply shut it down in frustration. I now see where I stopped, although I still don't recall where it was going.
Today, meanwhile, is a much better start. Today is going to be good.
This morning began good. Without effort, or so it seems, I walked down the hall at home without once needing to grab a doorway or push off of a wall to correct an awkward course. This is not my normal "bouncing off the walls" situation, an expression I used that puzzled Dr. Jennifer a while back. To the kitchen, after a pause to hear the weather prognostication from Brandon Beck that Donna was watching on TV, where I filled up my customary glass of water (something close to, but not quite, a full pint).
My 'normal thing' is to try to drink the whole thing without stopping. I believe the old expression was to "kill it" which as a kid we referred to a bottle of pop, but considering the character of some 'older people' I suspect that some folks did that with a bottle of beer, or worse. This habit (I just stopped to shoo a bug away from my field of vision, then I stopped waving it off because it might have been one of those little black spots that pop into my vision from time to time as my eyes do their age-adjustment thing; Dr. whats-his-name from the Missouri Eye Institute said a few, now and then, was not a problem but when they swarm and the swarm keeps getting bigger, then I needed to call him quickly; this, however, turned out to be a real, live gnat that lit on the computer monitor a moment ago and it likely spawned from the banana I had left-over on my desk from yesterday's lunch; now back to figure out where I was in the previous thought; I suspected that this 'rabbit trail' contained information that needed to be noted before I lost it), habit, oh yeah, I started it several years ago with the hopes that the water would sort of prime-the-pump for my constipation-prone digestive system to start the day. I noticed in a moment of impatience, where I tried to speed the process up by "killing the drink", that I seemed to be substantially more awake when I drank it before taking another breath.
Today, however, particularly being a work day, I take a pill of Nuvigil. Usually, this is along with my recently prescribed vitamin D supplement but yesterday Donna gave me the bag from the pharmacy and it had the next installment of the super-dose vitamin D. I took the super pill instead of the OTC supplement--and carefully placed that pill bottle apart from the once-daily medicines that I usually take at night. Hopefully, I have learned (another of Dr. Brittany's 'stressors' I suspect) not to overdose on this batch of weekly pills. The previous installment I had inadvertently taken daily for four days, discovering my error when telling Donna I need to get this prescription refilled. I remembered reading how these super doses of vitamin D could do the liver damage if too much was taken.
Starting my bathroom routine, I opened a drawer by the sink and looked at what was there blankly. The toothpaste I use last, so that was not it. The hairbrush I use after drying my hair following its wash in the shower. Ah, now I know, just a simple process of elimination. I used to reach in the drawer and grab what I wanted without having to think about it, or sometimes even look.
Next came the shower setup. Bathmat down from the towel rack. Towels transferred from the bathroom cabinet top, where Donna prefers to find hers when she steps out of the shower, to the towel rack, where I prefer to find mine when I finish showering. Wash cloth draped over the shower door. Then a pause--it is like I don't know what to do next. Ah, turn the water on and get in. Maybe there is a touch of Dr. Brittany's stressors in the background of that moment of lost-ness over a simple and mundane matter that has not taken thought for most of my 60 years.
Wondering if today would be like yesterday and the day before where I lost track of whether I had washed, or rinsed, my hair, or whether my face was wet because I just gave it my post-shampoo rinse or that I had just soaped my face and needed to rinse that off before I opened my eyes again. Unlike the previous days where I had to touch the shower wall and hand hold to make sure I was properly oriented with my eyes closed, today I didn't feel so disoriented.
I started to hum a tune as I shampooed my hair and soon found myself trying to rush the music faster than my lips would go. Ah ha! Either the Nuvigil or super-dose vitamin D had kicked in! The rest of the shower likewise went more smoothly, and much more quickly, than usual in recent weeks. (I also noticed while typing and editing my sentences as I go that I am not getting lost in finishing a thought, by the way)
It was amusing, as I wrapped things up, that yesterday I didn't see my washcloth for a moment because I normally toss it over the door to the bathmat after wiping water off the shower door window. That was because I didn't remember to wipe the excess water off the door yesterday, but did today. Then a moment's reality check happened to dampen my momentary mirth--I may have remembered to wipe the shower door down but I have absolutely no recollection of drying my legs. Drying my legs is important because of the potential for balance problems. Donna does not like it when I lift my leg and rest my foot on the bathroom cabinet top in order to dry my legs, for fear of my losing balance. (I always, in recent years at least, also lean against the shower wall so I am firmly planted, in my own mind and sense of balance, on one foot and a shoulder on the wall) On the other hand, as she seems not to realize, I fear bending over to dry my legs. I quickly become unbalanced when my head lowers as I towel my lower legs dry. The catch today was that my legs were dry and I have absolutely no recollection of drying them even though I remember these other details with my formerly usual clarity.
As I went to write this posting, I discovered the draft of the one I intended to close yesterday with. Yesterday became difficult as the day wore on, but after a nap and dinner I felt better and began to write my recollections of the struggles, but nothing much came. I see I stopped in mid-sentence. I have no idea what I was going to say in that sentence but recall feeling frustrated. It seemed as if the note of that morning, which started this blog, was written with an almost entirely different mind than I then possessed. Paging back and forth, I tried to copy the style of phrasing in hopes it would refresh those prosaic juices but what was pouring out of my head seemed a comparative 'stick figure'. I erased what I had done and tried to start again, fresh, but simply shut it down in frustration. I now see where I stopped, although I still don't recall where it was going.
Today, meanwhile, is a much better start. Today is going to be good.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Coasting to a Close
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Now that I've had a nap, and nice dinner (pizza), and some ice cream, I feel pretty good. A nice end, with a little help from Tylenol.
The work day was a bit of a puzzle because parts of the day seem to have been misplaced. Writing the instructions for how I do my work, I got lost a few times. Imagine writing something and a few minutes later
Now that I've had a nap, and nice dinner (pizza), and some ice cream, I feel pretty good. A nice end, with a little help from Tylenol.
The work day was a bit of a puzzle because parts of the day seem to have been misplaced. Writing the instructions for how I do my work, I got lost a few times. Imagine writing something and a few minutes later
Starting the Diary
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
This morning the idea came to me to make a place to record how I am feeling. At first I thought of using pen and paper, but that seemed impractical because I have had some very nice pens that I can no longer find. Paper never seems to be . . . well, too much extra to hold onto at a time when I am trying to simplify things.
Last night, in a dream, I relived a conversation with a friend named Floyd about a common friend named Paul. Paul is partially blind and recently was hit by a car when Paul walked a little further out in the street than he should have been. Paul often does not carry his red-tipped white cane. He thinks he can usually see well enough directly in front of him, so there is no need to 'tap' his way at times. Floyd said "If the driver saw a man with a cane, he might have given you more room. The cane may not be needed but others might need the little flag it represents to the rest of the world."
I told Donna this morning about that. She said our friend Sarah, who is also partially-sighted, usually carries a cane for that very reason. It helps others to notice her.
Sunday, as I walked out of the first service at church, I soon became a bit of a nervous wreck with sudden stop and start among all the people, each going their own several ways. I actually followed an old person for a while, as if I were in the wake of a boat going through water. By the time I traversed the entrance I was ready for a rest and found a chair to park in and calm down. I don't like the idea of falling. I never was good at tumbling in school P.E. so feeling wobbly and having to stop abruptly so often felt like I was on the verge of being out of balance, out of control, often in the previous few minutes.
Monday seemed fairly good in my memory, but my memory is rather sketchy in recent days, and Tuesday held a problem like Sunday, and unlike all that I recall of Monday. Tuesday started okay. I actually climbed stairs with energy and ease for a meeting that morning. I only started to get winded on the last flight of stairs some three floors up. I felt a good deal less steady the half-hour later, so I took the elevator down.
Later in the morning I felt the urge to visit 'the little room down the hall' and I walked down the middle of the comfortably broad hallway, as I often do in order to avoid traffic as people sometimes hurriedly leave their offices or cubicles. That very thing happened as one happy and hyper coworker swiftly left her work place on a similar mission in the other direction. The restrooms are on the other side of the floor but I like going clockwise around the work spaces in the middle and others like going counterclockwise. So while I zigged to the destination, Edith zagged and we met in the middle.
Did I mention that I don't like the idea of falling? Well, when I stop abruptly the sense of continuing in motion doesn't always stop with me. The good Dr. Brittany recently asked me about the "stressors" in my life and that is one of them. Sometimes I can see I am standing still but I don't feel like I am still. Fortunately, in this instance Tuesday, there was a chair just a step away and I used it. This near-miss was not exactly an auto accident but it made me as unsettled as the day I snapped awake at a traffic light, thought I had the green turn arrow, and drove into the intersection. It seems that an on-coming car, which did indeed have the green light, missed me but it was obvious that the driver was on the edge of his control that kept him from veering into the corner gas station as he evaded me. I stopped and looked around, discovering that I obviously did NOT have a green light. I was that kind of 'shook up' over an otherwise 'laugh and go on' non-moment with Edith.
Back to today, Wednesday, I did remember to bring my cane, although I twice forgot where I put it after getting it out of the closet this morning. It did help, both in the anticipated flag that encouraged people to give me a tad more space when I left chapel, and a forgotten feeling of extra support when I leaned against the wall awaiting an elevator. The cane was suggested weeks ago by my boss. I was picturing that it would be yet another thing to keep track of when I felt like falling over, although the thought that I could use it to help myself up off the floor that kept it in mind. Fortunately, I have only fallen about three or four times since this began a year or so ago--not counting the times I tried to stand up and fell back onto the bed or chair. Dr. Jennifer said that those kinds of falls don't count. Then too, neither does the one when I was lunging to someone's rescue in a dream and found myself on the floor beside my bed. Strange, I laughed at that, but couldn't Tuesday.
I suppose, as Dr. Brittany asked, but I don't recall spending much time allowing for an answer (or was that yet another gap in my memory?), this unfamiliar business of not 'being all there' is a tad stressful. I don't try to let on because I am not in pain or otherwise suffering, so it seems inappropriate to get the extra consideration. On the other hand, that is what I advertised when using my cane. I feel so increasingly worthless, but the social concession of a little more room is sufficient attention. I may feel weak but I don't want to appear weak, which may be why I haven't used the cane up until now. Still, with the cane I feel a bit more sturdy, so that is a fair trade off.
This morning the idea came to me to make a place to record how I am feeling. At first I thought of using pen and paper, but that seemed impractical because I have had some very nice pens that I can no longer find. Paper never seems to be . . . well, too much extra to hold onto at a time when I am trying to simplify things.
Last night, in a dream, I relived a conversation with a friend named Floyd about a common friend named Paul. Paul is partially blind and recently was hit by a car when Paul walked a little further out in the street than he should have been. Paul often does not carry his red-tipped white cane. He thinks he can usually see well enough directly in front of him, so there is no need to 'tap' his way at times. Floyd said "If the driver saw a man with a cane, he might have given you more room. The cane may not be needed but others might need the little flag it represents to the rest of the world."
I told Donna this morning about that. She said our friend Sarah, who is also partially-sighted, usually carries a cane for that very reason. It helps others to notice her.
Sunday, as I walked out of the first service at church, I soon became a bit of a nervous wreck with sudden stop and start among all the people, each going their own several ways. I actually followed an old person for a while, as if I were in the wake of a boat going through water. By the time I traversed the entrance I was ready for a rest and found a chair to park in and calm down. I don't like the idea of falling. I never was good at tumbling in school P.E. so feeling wobbly and having to stop abruptly so often felt like I was on the verge of being out of balance, out of control, often in the previous few minutes.
Monday seemed fairly good in my memory, but my memory is rather sketchy in recent days, and Tuesday held a problem like Sunday, and unlike all that I recall of Monday. Tuesday started okay. I actually climbed stairs with energy and ease for a meeting that morning. I only started to get winded on the last flight of stairs some three floors up. I felt a good deal less steady the half-hour later, so I took the elevator down.
Later in the morning I felt the urge to visit 'the little room down the hall' and I walked down the middle of the comfortably broad hallway, as I often do in order to avoid traffic as people sometimes hurriedly leave their offices or cubicles. That very thing happened as one happy and hyper coworker swiftly left her work place on a similar mission in the other direction. The restrooms are on the other side of the floor but I like going clockwise around the work spaces in the middle and others like going counterclockwise. So while I zigged to the destination, Edith zagged and we met in the middle.
Did I mention that I don't like the idea of falling? Well, when I stop abruptly the sense of continuing in motion doesn't always stop with me. The good Dr. Brittany recently asked me about the "stressors" in my life and that is one of them. Sometimes I can see I am standing still but I don't feel like I am still. Fortunately, in this instance Tuesday, there was a chair just a step away and I used it. This near-miss was not exactly an auto accident but it made me as unsettled as the day I snapped awake at a traffic light, thought I had the green turn arrow, and drove into the intersection. It seems that an on-coming car, which did indeed have the green light, missed me but it was obvious that the driver was on the edge of his control that kept him from veering into the corner gas station as he evaded me. I stopped and looked around, discovering that I obviously did NOT have a green light. I was that kind of 'shook up' over an otherwise 'laugh and go on' non-moment with Edith.
Back to today, Wednesday, I did remember to bring my cane, although I twice forgot where I put it after getting it out of the closet this morning. It did help, both in the anticipated flag that encouraged people to give me a tad more space when I left chapel, and a forgotten feeling of extra support when I leaned against the wall awaiting an elevator. The cane was suggested weeks ago by my boss. I was picturing that it would be yet another thing to keep track of when I felt like falling over, although the thought that I could use it to help myself up off the floor that kept it in mind. Fortunately, I have only fallen about three or four times since this began a year or so ago--not counting the times I tried to stand up and fell back onto the bed or chair. Dr. Jennifer said that those kinds of falls don't count. Then too, neither does the one when I was lunging to someone's rescue in a dream and found myself on the floor beside my bed. Strange, I laughed at that, but couldn't Tuesday.
I suppose, as Dr. Brittany asked, but I don't recall spending much time allowing for an answer (or was that yet another gap in my memory?), this unfamiliar business of not 'being all there' is a tad stressful. I don't try to let on because I am not in pain or otherwise suffering, so it seems inappropriate to get the extra consideration. On the other hand, that is what I advertised when using my cane. I feel so increasingly worthless, but the social concession of a little more room is sufficient attention. I may feel weak but I don't want to appear weak, which may be why I haven't used the cane up until now. Still, with the cane I feel a bit more sturdy, so that is a fair trade off.
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