An E-Mail

Thanks for asking about Gregory, R. Gregory has evened out again, even if at a much lower level of functioning but he is happy and content. My experience with Lieberman continues to prove itself to be loving, supportive, and provision of excellent care. 

While I still grieve and will probably do so for the rest of my life, but I face each day with renewed strength and excitement. As you saw, I just published my second book of poetry, am working on the possibility of creating a second Michael's Museum which will be known as MCM or Michael's Closet Museum: A Large Collection Of Tiny Treasures in a Tiny Space. 

Am repainting the condo, making it my "single pad," and while do not want to be away from Gregory for great lengths of time am planning a future trip to Amsterdam and will embark on a few three or four day adventures, the first on probably to Quebec City. 

I hired a private care person to be with Gregory seven days a week from 11:30 to 5:30. That covers lunch and dinner and the time between. It helps keep Gregory active. While the aides there take good care of Gregory, it is not a social, interactive experience. 

With Manny, he gets extra exercise, companionship and help eating at meals, the ability to go to functions at Lieberman, ability to go down to the library and out to the gardens, watch movies (usually musicals) in his room, have snacks and his beloved chocolates, do music sessions with his iPod and earphones (as set up by Manny,) have massage, read aloud. None of which Gregory could do for himself but with Manny's help is easy. 

Also because Gregory is a "fall-risk" and because cognitively his brain has great trouble controling his legs and muscles, he is confined to a wheel chair. Normally he would have to always be with the "crowd" of other residents but with Manny his time can be more individualized. 

I visit almost every day and take one off now and then when I feel the need. Gregory's condition is much worse but his situation is much improved. My heart is light.

Love to you and N.

Michael

A Letter to a Friend

Hi Susan. I am doing well. Still numb and very sad but at this point Gregory is being well taken care of. He is no longer the man you knew just a short while ago. I am grateful for his current home, one of the best Memory Care Facilities in Chicago, and am grateful to begin learning a new role as Secondary Care Giver. I do not have to go it alone but have a team of nurses, social workers, dietitians, doctors, therapists, etc to help Gregory as his needs continue to change.

Eventually I'll get on with my life. I never martyred myself to Gregory's disease and continued to have an identity of my own but did devote a lot of time, and energy, and love on an increasing basis as Gregory's needs increased. My identity, however, did include having a life partner with which to share my days. With him in his new home and me in the old one, I have to figure out who I am as a single person and what the angle of my days will look like.

Now, while I see him a couple of hours every day, I have lots of time on my hands and not yet the motivation to do anything with that time. I think the first thing I'll involve myself in is tailoring the condo to my needs and removing those things that met Gregory's needs. I will continue my writing and begin again to pursue a publisher for my memoirs which were organized at Ragdale during my residency in 2010. I hope to begin traveling again.

What I do not seem to have, and being good to myself since it has only been two weeks since this major upheaval, is any idea of what the future will hold. No goals. No ambitions. No hopes and desires. Except that Gregory be well taken care of and that I continue to be healthy and alive.

In some way, it is as though this moment has always been arriving and always leaving at the same instant yet doesn't exist in reality. Gregory is very visibly living in the moment, no past and no future and not really much of a present as we know it, and perhaps for now, I am living in the moment as well.

Love you, miss you, keep your guest room ready as one day I will arrive at your doorstep (with notice :-)

Fondly,
Michael

Circular Thinking

I live my life in circles. Especially with so much time taken up by being responsible for two lives, my own and Gregory's.

The Morning Cycle: get up, let the cats out of the bathroom, drink coffee, help G toilet and shave, help G get dressed, start my computer, give G toast or juice to start, drink coffee, sit at my computer writing or maintaining our life, make breakfast for G, have toast myself, begin the day by noon.

The Day's Cycle: turn on the lights, raise the shades, brew the coffee, bring in the New York Times, spend the day, prepare dinner, clean up dinner, watch TV, read aloud, go to sleep.

The Cleaning Cycle: turn on the lights as I pick up old newspaper and put in recycle bin by door as I bring in the current newspaper and put on Gregory's table as I pick up my coffee and add the milk as I take it into the bedroom and place on the computer desk as I turn on the bathroom heat as I pick up the old cat food bowls as I bring them into the kitchen as I pick up the glue from the counter and return it to the TV room as I straighten the couch pillows as I take away last nights soda glass as I return it to the kitchen as I go by the hall closet and get the stick vacuum as I take it to the bedroom to pick up the sock lint on the carpet as I take it into the bathroom to vacuum up spilled (or kicked out) kitty litter as I return it to the closet as I reach into the washer and put the wet clothes into the dryer as I go into the bedroom to get the dirty clothes as I put them into the washer as I add soap to the machine as I go into the kitchen to add "soap" to the grocery list as I look through the coupons as I put them on the pocket table in the front hall as I pick up the mail and bring it into the bedroom as I open the mail and drink coffee as I put the opened envelopes into the garbage pail as i take the pail to the kitchen to empty it into recyle as I pick up the "yuck" garbage and take it into the bathroom to empty the kitty litter filled zip locks as I take the "yuck" and the recycled newspaper down the hall to the garbage room and I continue to cycle through the condo and through my day, picking up one thing, taking it to another place while picking up the next thing and taking it to the next place, and so on and so forth until everything is done and in its place.

Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve and snow is making it a white one. Earlier, we went out for a walk in the snow and for lunch. Just finishing up coffee and a read which is what happens most evenings around five o'clock. Next a light dinner, watching "A Christmas Carol," and opening presents with a cup of hot chocolate and some of the cookies we baked: chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, peanut butter, walnut balls, chocolate walnut balls, brownies, and date nut bars. Then to bed.

Tomorrow will be more of the same. Resting, reading, sharing. Dinner of roast turkey, dressing, sweet potatoes, orange cranberry relish, and a salad. Perhaps we will go for a walk again in the snow. For sure a nap will be in order sometime during the day.

This is the first "just Gregory and Michael" Christmas in a long while. We are counting January 10th as our 35 anniversary together and for at least 34 of those we have spent Christmas with family, both our assigned biological and/or our selected Gay one. This year one biological family lives far away and the other is traveling for the holidays. Half of the Gay Family is in Italy spending Christmas and two months on the move. A number of other friends are taking the opportunity to have a low key holiday as well.

Both Gregory and I are looking forward to this down time. Just the two of us, our warm cozy home decked out with holiday flair, and the baby Jesus. As Santa drives out of sight, we can hear him calling, "Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night."

It's Amazing

We are now finished with our decorating for the holiday. There are little Christmas trees with little ornaments everywhere you look; two in the kitchen, five on Gregory's table, one in the guest bathroom, one in the master bathroom, and one in our bedroom.

There are large, heavy, mercury glass ornaments of various sizes hanging across the sprinkler system pipe that crosses the living room: shades of blue, green, red, orange to yellow, purple, silver and white.

Three dozen glass ball ornaments are suspended in a spiral from the HVAC duct down the entry hall. They are attached via magnets, attached to springs, attached to alligator clips attached to the balls. The great thing is that the ornaments are all off color, none Christmassy: chartreuse, lime, lilac, purple, pink, black, white, turquoise, etc.

The mistletoe is hanging at the end of the hall suspended below a metal Star with a picture of Santa painted on it. Kiss, kiss, kiss.

A freshly baked ginger bread house sits on the coffee table. It is decorated with a meringue cookie roof, multi-colored bubble gum ridge pole, red and green candy corn fence, spearmint leaf bushes, frosting decorated windows and doors, a candy cane wreath, and a chocolate flavored stones making a cobble sidewalk.

Metallic colored metal words: joy, believe, peace, love, faith, and hope, dangle from magnets on the furnace vent in the hall.

A plastic Santa glows in the guest bath, a plastic snowman lights up the master bath, and a ceramic Christmas tree with plastic beads glows at the end of the kitchen counter.

Three sizes of white lights are wrapped around the balcony railing and plastic candy canes are hung with care along the length of the balcony. A live tree, three feet high sits in the middle with its white lights glowing softly.

In the past, Gregory and I decorated the house together. Now-a-days I do it by myself and he helps when he can. Mostly Gregory sits and watches and takes great joy in seeing the "things" of our holiday get unwrapped and put into place.

A stack of presents gayly wrapped sit on top of my computer console. As usual I have bought some wonderful gifts for Gregory and I have bought some wonderful gifts for me from him. I usually get what I want for Christmas!

Throughout this process, I was very aware of an amazing thing. I was and am feeling blessed, happy, content, and joyful. Alzheimer's is besides the point. To end this BLOG, I'll repeat the words I look at in the hall each night before I go to bed: joy, believe, peace, love, faith, and hope. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

A Visit with Margaret

Yesterday Gregory and I had invited Dominga and Margaret to drop by for some Christmas Cheer. Dominga used to be the general housekeeper for our condo building. She also takes care of our cat Mariah when we are out of town. Now she is taking care of Margaret (who also lives in the condo) 24/7. Margaret has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease.

Margaret and Dominga arrived at 3:00. When we answered the door, Dominga handed me the black rubber door stop she used to prop open the door while she pushed Margaret’s wheelchair through into the unit. Margaret was dressed very nicely in her black slacks and red, black, and white sweater and shiny black pumps. Her hair was well groomed and she was wearing just a hint of perfume. Her glasses were perched intelligently on her nose. She seemed very happy to see us although we had only met her briefly in the lobby once before. Kisses and hugs all around.

She complimented and went on about how nicely our home was decorated. “Really fancy. Quite elegant. Who did all this? How nice!” I offered Dominga and Margaret a choice of coffee, tea, or a glass of wine. Margaret said wine would be lovely. I asked if she would prefer red or white. She said white would be lovely. Meanwhile, Dominga was signaling in the background, “No wine. Medications. No wine.” I poured the wine for the rest of us and opened a can of LeCroix carbonated water and filled a wine glass for Margaret. I squeezed a slice of lemon into the sparkling water. When I handed it to her I said, “Here is your champaign.” She sipped it and said, “Lovely.” 

After we all had our drinks and were sitting in the living room, we made polite conversation. Our conversation with Dominga was comfortable as we have known her for a while and had things in common. Our conversation with Margaret was a little more interesting and unpredictable. Gregory was mostly quiet. I carried most of the conversation, as I am so good at (and used to doing.) 

In response to my questions to Margaret, intermingled with general conversation with Dominga, Margaret was variously 47 to 87 years old, had two to four sons, mentioned Gary as her son and at times as her husband, had lived in the condo for 8 years (the condo has only been open for 2,) gushed again over how elegant our place was, and commented frequently on the snow that was drifting by outside the living room windows. She was looking forward to the Chanukah party that her son (husband) was giving on the weekend downstairs in one of the restaurants (really the condo’s community room.)

Then she wanted to go. She turned to Dominga and gruffly said, “You got me into this, now I think it is time to go.” I asked Margaret if she wouldn’t keep us company for just a little while longer and with her returned sweet smile and kind demeanor she said, “Of course.”

Eventually it was definitely time for them to leave. Margaret was getting a little angry. Very often people with Alzheimer’s get agitated when the sun begins to go down. Scientists are not exactly sure why Sun Downing occurs but say it could be caused simply by change, less light, shadows, body chemistry, who knows? 

Margaret was very loving and appropriately affectionate throughout her visit. Once she was in the process of leaving, her anger and agitation disappeared. Hugs and kisses were important on her arrival as well as on her departure. We gave Dominga a box of chocolates wrapped in Christmas paper and Margaret a small round tin of raspberry sucking candies. The tin wasn’t wrapped but had a red bow on the top. She was so pleased to get a gift but tried to give the ribbon back. She wasn’t sure what to do with the tin. 

Total visit time: 56 minutes.

Margaret: RIP January 2008