Lisa Vanderburg

6 years ago · 5 min. reading time · 0 ·

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Love hurts

Love hurts

It's Care-giver month again....think I'll have a nap. Don't get me wrong - for other carers, I care. I'm sure they do a stellar job and remain blissful, serene and contented. Well done!

Alas, I'm the other type: bemused, confused and cranky with it! Every now and then I just have to throw all my toys outta the pram, and have a good ol’ fashioned hissy fit. Chucking myself on supermarket floors, bawling and screaming; it has its appeal. I like gravity, and sometimes it’s quite comforting to be as close to it as possible. Trouble is my full head of white hair. At my age (58…and there’s nothing graceful about it), I’m liable to be picked up by a set of perky 80-year olds or an ambulance, dammit.

I might like writing, but that doesn’t extend to myself as subject; too much squabbling with the Id and other factions of my person. I have strong opinions, but clearly more lily-livered about my own set of values, because the lines keep changing or blurring. They didn’t always. If it appears I’m describing a stranger; we’re getting closer!

What I am is a carer. For those who have more space (the US); a care-giver. Some of you may know my hubby is fast approaching his 18th year with Parkinson. So what is like to look after another adult for LONG periods of your life? Tritely, can’t tell yet…..we’ve a-ways to go. But I’ve read other carers blogs, posts and books. Some are clinical, some exquisitely beautiful and painful, some woefully inadequate – defying explanation.

My own family have little idea about the cost of caring. Who can blame them when I’m towered over by an enormous festinating bloke that clearly needs every moment of focus? But I’ll try for an explanation.

I have to say first that my husband requires relatively little in the way of manual help (all things considered as NPR would say); some dressing, steering, stopping. I do the laundry, cook for him (although he can make eggs under supervision), I shop while he sits waiting, I drive. As I’m not a natural haus-frau – to hell with the cleaning, bar essentials. He could be a lot worse considering his duration of disease, but for his DBS.

But I’ll tell you what’s exhausting: anticipation. To have to be on full-alert for when he’s going to ‘go’ (potential fall), to know when he’s going to crash into something or other requires a fair amount of following like a guard-dog. And I lift – constantly. The getting-off-the-chair isn’t too bad because I make sure we’re both ready for it, but the second he makes it to his feet, I have to stop him with barking commands, ‘steady, STEADY….’ as his wont is to take off in a crashing hurry (the festination again). If we walk (rarely – his back has been skewed completely out of true by his PD), it requires side control with the anticipation of falling back, forward or other, so I grip his jacket or get in front of him to slow him. He has to sit frequently to relieve the pain in his back. Any sense of proximate space is now lost to him, so he could easily mow down a gaggle of ladies if I don’t see it coming. I have to do his feet (too stingy to get him to a Podiatrist) and check his skin as his extremities cool without him knowing. I cut his hair and help him shave, apply creams, heat or cold where needed. More than anything, my mantra is WATCH, WATCH, WATCH!

A recent problem that is finally resolving after TWO YEARS has been his sleep. Here’s an excerpt to his Neurologist:

‘‘Our lives are so entrenched in Pete’s sleep cycle (if there’s any sleep to qualify), that living is fairly abysmal now, despite his DBS. I will try and explain it, in order:
1. Pete tends to have a ‘cycle’ that lasts maybe 3 or 4 weeks. He never starts from a clean slate, as it’s been years since he’s slept in more than a 4-hour normal chunk. He starts by falling asleep as soon as dusk approaches. I cannot keep him awake. He will wake for dinner and fall back asleep. He’ll go to bed and be up fairly quick or immediately for the night or long portions of it.
2. ADD: He falls rapidly asleep and awake again. This can happen anywhere; mostly at desk, chair & in car. I drive. This is when he’s very tired. As his weariness increases, he starts speaking loudly, shouting, arguing in his sleep. He has blepharospasm (or oromandibular dystonia - not sure) - squeezing his eyes shut tightly, so it's difficult for me to know when he's sleeping or not (he pulls very extreme expressions pre-REM). This is very similar to his pre-DBS morning, with no meds or stim. This will be a major feature until the cycle breaks. RBD includes punching and scratching (usually the wall or air), flailing, falling out of bed. He has found where I live, and I am caught out to find him in his rictus smile looming over my bed; he’s not ‘conscious’.
3. ADD: When he dozes in the day (upright), he air-eats and chatters, pulls faces. When he falls asleep at night (rarely during his nodding-off times in the day) he has a good strong voice, lots of shouting and gesticulating, and you can tell he's talking to several people in his dreams. His RBD means nightly eating followed by antacids. For the most part he craves sugar. His aluminium levels must be horrid? His nightly wanderings includes him buttering a ball of string to eat, leaving the gas on, overflowing baths, and standing by my bed (I live in a bed opposite – out of shot of his arms & feet) and telling me about all the people at the end of my bed. He is ‘not there’ for all this, including baths, eating etc., although I wouldn’t exactly call it sleep by now, as he is not open to suggestion by then. He may try to leave the apartment. I will be chasing him or guide him as calmly as I can during these periods. He’s like a sugared-up 4-years old, and his festinating means he’ll crash.
4. ADD: to the mix PLMD. Near the end, his laying down to try and sleep will cause massive roiling muscle dystonic jerks, ending in his feet. These are very violent and clearly even more painful. They will start happening every 6 or so seconds. He can’t stand it, so all I can do to relieve it is get him to his feet. His sleep-debt is by now so great he falls asleep immediately, and down he goes. We can spend a good part of a few nights doing this. It’s now, with everything happening at once, that he most needs relief. On his desire, I’ll take him to the putting green at dawn – if he falls there, at least it’s fairly soft! He’s about 90lb. heavier than me, so steering him or preventing him from falling is beating me up! He has little control of his bladder. Finally he’ll be so exhausted, he’ll sleep a chunk of maybe 3 hours at once. Then the cycle usually starts again.’’

One pill, Mirtazapine. That’s all it took to stop the rages of the nights. Of course, it’s not over; he may need apomorphrine for his blepharospasm, and we’re still awaiting the outcome of his sleep-apnea test. But because all this has put us in crisis-mode for a very long time, it’ll probably take half the time again to restore good sleeping habits. I don’t want to leave him alone, partly because I’m sort of shell-shocked and partly because of his very frequent choking – be it on anything including saliva.

But all this has turned me into a fire-breathing dragon – he knows it! Nothing wrong with his mind (when he’s ‘awake’), so he’ll bark back now – ‘don’t shout’, he shouts because I’ve had to repeat myself – I knew he didn’t hear me that the person who’s trying to enter card-details in the store is nervous because Pete’s unknowingly got too close for security.

In the evening, Pete falls asleep instantly in his chair. I try and keep him awake to re-establish old habits, but it doesn’t work. I watch him as he eats to make sure he doesn’t choke. I finally get to bed, with or without him. I’m shattered and so is he. I don’t have PD; I have a ‘rare disease’ which brings lots of pain and exhaustion. But I don’t have PD and not much of a life. Still, my beloved – the one I choose to love daily; he does.

So, that’s my job. I have to say, I’m fairly crap at it; there’s no manual or set of rules to follow. Because of both our diseases, we had to leave behind our friends and church in the States to return to the UK – which means there’s very little to fall back on. The loneliness of it has driven me to become more withdrawn - not less, oddly. Losing my beloved BFF and sister last year really ended so much for me. Mercifully my hubby’s primary disease is unabashed optimism, and he doesn’t need other people – that’s a blessing! He keeps his mind fully engaged during his waking hours, at his desk. I do the same, in the next room.

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oops...excuse me!"
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Lisa Vanderburg

5 years ago #12

I am humbled at your considered understanding and empathy, Sir! You've clearly identified this 'dance' we're in - a little like the film 'They shoot horses, don't they'; we're both fairly knackered and probably should be melted down for soap:) I spent a few years writing about the med side of PD, but it sort of seems a little like I've run out of words for the time being. For my hubby who puts up with my endless crap, we have a lot of laughs based on the British-way-of-caustic-wit: sarcasm. That gets us through! Thank you kindly CityVP \ud83d\udc1d Manjit for adding those links; especially that righteous video! I'm grateful!

CityVP Manjit

5 years ago #11

It altered my view of love when I first visited England and saw my aunt as a carer and all that she had to do to look after my uncle whose Parkinson's steadily got worse. Over successive years I learned how unforgiving Parkinson's is. It was made even more tough because my uncle was a naturally a fiercely independent man, who found it difficult to be subjected to loss of control. I tried looking after him for just one day - one day when I discovered to experience life living in my aunt shoes and by the days end I was exhausted, and it was beyond me how she did this day in day out - how can observing this not alter my view of what love is. The luxury I had is that I was there on a business trip and I got to get back home. Through this buzz I am learning for the first time highly detailed interventions. I checked out DBS, RBD and PLDM DBS = http://www.parkinson.org/understanding-parkinsons/treatment/surgery-treatment-options/Deep-Brain-Stimulation RBD= http://www.neurologyadvisor.com/neurodegenerative-diseases/rem-sleep-behavior-disorder-parkinsons-disease-neurodegenerative/article/435337/ PLDM = http://www.mountain-sleep.com/index.php/sleep-disorders/plmd-rls So the gravity of the words "Still, my beloved – the one I choose to love daily" is that much more powerful to absorb. The carer is not spared but can fight back in small ways and it is a privelege to have read this buzz, for the creativity and spirit, as also shown in this video "Parkinsons is a Thief" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=InFY3s-UgY0

Donald 🐝 Grandy PN

5 years ago #10

Agree Deb \ud83d\udc1d Helfrich. As difficult as it might be. Live your life or become the next one requiring care. It's not a selfish thing to do.

Cyndi wilkins

6 years ago #9

#7
The wave hit hard...an ocean of emotion...I'm still picking the seaweed out of my hair...But I'm getting there;-) Yeah, that whole sickness and in health thing isn't all it's cracked up to be...Don't get me wrong...I love, honor and respect the kind of love that it takes to be a care giver...But sometimes it hurts like hell...experiences like this will awaken that sleeping dragon in anyone...I suppose if it were easy, there would be no lesson in it...We are all our own greatest teachers...sending you LOVE:-)

Lisa Vanderburg

6 years ago #8

#10
I hear you, @Irene Hackett! It seems wimmin are bent to this role; God love the male care-givers, but they are a rarer breed....must be the anticipation thing; we corral wobbling toddlers and crashing kids, so it's just an ergonomic problem :) Just for laughs: my father died in 2010 - I had been assisting my step-mother in his care. It was my night - his last. He was his usual cranky self (not in pain, mercifully) and was struggling to get out one side of the bed which was blocked, while I tried to steer him to the other side. He got so mad he had his final event. His last words were, 'oh SHUT UP woman!!'

Lisa Vanderburg

6 years ago #7

#5
You called it dead to rights, Deb Helfrich! It crept up slowly - all this....mayhem. I think I have come to terms with my 'lot'. I have no illusions as to what the future holds, so I set my eyes on the goal: to be in control when the proverbial really hits the fan! After that, I imagine no more - it's not of consequence. That's not a sentimental statement or plan, it's merely the truth! To think my sister (years back) used to believe in reincarnation - ha! I'd say to her, 'who in their right mind would want to come back to this world of pain??' But I could think of less-lived lives!

Lisa Vanderburg

6 years ago #6

#6
Good Lord @Cyndi Wilkins - I am so very sorry for your angst. I can totally empathise when you say, ''The only saving grace for me is that he also suffers dementia and has no memory of what has happened to him...'' You HAD to put him in a nursing home: you had no choice, and I hope you're not still beating yourself up for that. I have the dubious benefit of having to care for my spouse until 'death do us part'. That gives me the onus to be both pit-bull and dragon for him (the upside :) ), and I apologise in advance for those that will feel my wrath should they ignore or neglect my charge! The lines are just too bleary when it's your parent - it warms my heart though; you're clearly mutual love.

Cyndi wilkins

6 years ago #5

"But I’ll tell you what’s exhausting: anticipation. To have to be on full-alert for when he’s going to ‘go’ (potential fall), to know when he’s going to crash into something or other requires a fair amount of following like a guard-dog." Oh dear Lisa....I feel this soooooo profoundly right now...I've been living this nightmare of dragons and demons ever since I found my dad one morning several weeks ago like a turtle on his back in the bath tub...He had a stroke as he was making his way to the bathroom in the night and fallen over...I thank God every day that he was still conscious and not severely injured, however the stroke took it toll...After several weeks of trying desperately to care for him at home I have had to make the heart wrenching decision to put him in a nursing home...The emotional backlash is like being dragged into an undertow and not being able to surface for air...The only saving grace for me is that he also suffers dementia and has no memory of what has happened to him...My heart goes out to you.

Lisa Vanderburg

6 years ago #4

#2
Thank you so much @Gert Scholtz! To be honest I don't know if I'm courageous, but I know a fella who has Parkinsons AND a dragon for a wife - he's got STONES :) Most grateful for your good wishes - I'll pass them on!

Lisa Vanderburg

6 years ago #3

#1
Oh, I am touched by your words and your wisdom my friend, Ali Anani! I am so far from a super-anything, I look at amoebas in awe :) Life is one long prat-fall; a losing battle with decrepitude. It's the same for everyone - those with chronic disease (especially neurodegenerative) just KNOW they're losing earlier. Borrowing from your pensive and beautiful buzz, Adaptations to Emotional Flooding, I just have a little root-rot!

Gert Scholtz

6 years ago #2

Lisa Vanderburg My best wishes to you and your husband Lisa. Your courage is truly admirable.

Ali Anani

6 years ago #1

I am deeply touched by your buzz Lisa Vanderburg. Your story is full of anticipation and I understand fully your saying that anticipation makes us edgy. I almost "melted" like an ice cube while reading " I have strong opinions, but clearly more lily-livered about my own set of values, because the lines keep changing or blurring. They didn’t always. If it appears I’m describing a stranger; we’re getting closer"! This is a deep description of many of us and I am not sure I could ever expose my feelings so eloquently and creatively. I wonder how do you make the time to write and comment. You are a super human.

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