A New Technology

Slowly Gregory has been loosing his ability to use the computer. Too confusing. Too many  if ... then's to solve. Too many sequential and/or random ways to work through an activity. Over time, since he has been loosing language, he hasn't been sending or receiving many e-mails, I am the hub for our incoming and outgoing information. But he had been able to hold on to a few skills.

When the iPad first came out I thought, "Aha!" Maybe this is the answer. At that time G was just beginning to have difficulties navigating around his Mac. I figured it would be easier with gestures, touch what you want to see, swipe to get rid of something. So we went to the Apple Store to give it a test run. It failed.

Gregory was not able to make associations on figuring out what he wanted to do based on what he saw. Too many one, two, three, and four finger clicks, swipes, wipes. At one point a key board came on the screen and he did not know what to do with it even though he had still been using the keyboard on his Mac. If he touched something in error he could not tell where the iPad sent him or how to get back to where he came from.

The final computer skill to go has been his reading the New York Times every day. He would get an e-mail and be able to go back and forth between the e-mail program and the browser program depending on what he wanted to read and then going back to select the next article.

Today I had a great insight that is so great that it only could have come from our "Sprit Guides." A new technology. At least for Gregory. We are going to try home delivery of the New York Times in paper edition. We may be using up a few more trees and we may be adding to the recycling heap, but perhaps Gregory will once again be able to thumb, literally, through the stories and enjoy his daily dose of news and current events. I'll let you know.

Coming Faster

This morning's conversation so far (48 minutes and counting.)

I asked G to bring his computer into my office so I could clean the screen. He did so. As I sprayed the screen and proceeded to wipe it clean, I explained that I had laid the screen flat so the cleaning solution wouldn't run into the computer.
G: "Could you do that for me?"
I look at him inquiringly.
G: "Oh, you are."

He came into the room and asked "What is today about?"
"Did you check the calendar on your computer to see?" I asked.
"No but I will." he replied.
A few minutes later I asked him what he had found out about today.
He thought for a few minutes and replied, "There was a long line of items but nothing I could tell."
We went to look at his computer together. He had been looking at his e-mail.
I showed him how to get to the calendar (again) and we saw together that there is nothing on the schedule for today.

He was pondering the medicine chest.
"Toothbrush?" I answered unasked.
Right. More pondering.
"Toothpaste?" I answered unasked.
Right. Brushing began.

He just tore a page off his "Day-At-A-Glance" calendar and as he was tossing the old page into the garbage commented with amazement, "It's still January?"

"It's 17 out. How should I dress?"

(Yesterday on commenting on the cold and asking a neighbor on the elevator what it was like outside, she answered, "Actually it's great. Sun is shining and its 80 degrees. I wish.

"Wow," G commented, "It has gotten warmer.")