This morning's routine was the same for Gregory. He woke up thirsty but didn't know what to do about it. He needed reminding to sit on the toilet for a while. Then he needed reminding to shave, to have the shaver taken out of the medicine cabinet for him, to be turned on, and to be put into his hand as it was guided towards his face. He needed help with putting on his deodorant and his face cream. He needed guidance into his undershirt oriented correctly for him and his underpants as well. He slipped his arms into the correctly held for him sweat shirt and his sweat pants as well.
All this was done with love and patience and kindness without making him ask first or struggle trying first. This has always been the conundrum for me, in which if I do it all, he looses the ability more quickly but if I hold back we run the risk of frustration and fear. He has gotten to the point recently that I have just decided to do it all for him because he cannot do it for himself anymore.
After we were finished, he held me and cried into my shoulder muttering about how proud he was of himself that he was able to do it all with out help. So my doing it all for him caused the memories of his doing it all for himself to be strong and the ruler of his emotions. A strange lesson for me to learn but a good one.
Showing posts with label Mornings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mornings. Show all posts
Friday, December 27, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Some Mornings
Some mornings he wakes up and nothing seems to work.
This morning he ran into problems with shaving. Shaver in hand, he called me into the bathroom trying to tell me something, but never was able to get to it. He pointed at the shaver, and then the mirror and said, "There is a little something."
That is as far as we got after his attempting to communicate several times. I waited patiently, guessed at a few things, and finally told him just to shave, which he did.
A little while later he called me again with the "light bulb" having gone on again, he struggled to tell me what he had realized, and failed again ... another dark communication. We have been up for 30 minutes.
He did OK beginning his shower, I was in the bedroom when I heard him shouting "Help! Help!" I came running to find that he was finished showering and had begun to turn the water off but only did so half way and was standing in the cold stream of water still coming out of the shower head.
I turned the water hot again so he could warm up and then we turned it off together. Actually he did so by himself without any help, just my standing there which made it a little more frustrating and confusing.
Next he struggled to put on his sweatshirt, arm through the head hole and out the sleeve. He kept mumbling, "No that's not right" and continued trying to figure out how to put it on. He sat down on the bed for a while seemingly trying to regroup. I held back and he finally did figure out how to put the shirt on.
We have been up for an hour.
While he was reading the newspaper, I set out the cutting board with his bread and honey and announced, "Your bead and honey are ready." He thanked me and came over to begin preparing his first of the morning food. I returned to the bedroom.
Some five or ten minutes later I went out to see how he was doing. He was standing by the toaster, looking back at the cutting board, and back and forth again and again.
He was unable to connect the toast needing to go into the toaster and the button needing to be pressed. We worked through the process together.
When the toaster was finished and his toast popped up, he asked, "Does that turn it off?"
I am grateful that he sought my help, that he was able to begin shaving and then to finish, that he was able to take a dump without my help, that he was able to shower for the most part, that he was finally able to figure out how to get dressed, that he kissed my head as he left the bedroom and said, "I love you," that he was able to read the newspaper, that he was able to eat his toast after putting on the honey, and that he was able to go back to his newspaper.
I am grateful that I was able to keep my patience, not jump in to help too quickly, that I didn't get emotionally involved, that I was able to move from one difficulty to the next without anger, and that he kissed me on the head and said, "I love you."
I am frightened that we are getting closer to my having to more closely supervise his shaving and showering, physically helping him get dressed, and not only making his breakfast but also toasting his first up before breakfast snack because when confused verbal instructions do not work.
We have been up for two hours.
This morning he ran into problems with shaving. Shaver in hand, he called me into the bathroom trying to tell me something, but never was able to get to it. He pointed at the shaver, and then the mirror and said, "There is a little something."
That is as far as we got after his attempting to communicate several times. I waited patiently, guessed at a few things, and finally told him just to shave, which he did.
A little while later he called me again with the "light bulb" having gone on again, he struggled to tell me what he had realized, and failed again ... another dark communication. We have been up for 30 minutes.
He did OK beginning his shower, I was in the bedroom when I heard him shouting "Help! Help!" I came running to find that he was finished showering and had begun to turn the water off but only did so half way and was standing in the cold stream of water still coming out of the shower head.
I turned the water hot again so he could warm up and then we turned it off together. Actually he did so by himself without any help, just my standing there which made it a little more frustrating and confusing.
Next he struggled to put on his sweatshirt, arm through the head hole and out the sleeve. He kept mumbling, "No that's not right" and continued trying to figure out how to put it on. He sat down on the bed for a while seemingly trying to regroup. I held back and he finally did figure out how to put the shirt on.
We have been up for an hour.
While he was reading the newspaper, I set out the cutting board with his bread and honey and announced, "Your bead and honey are ready." He thanked me and came over to begin preparing his first of the morning food. I returned to the bedroom.
Some five or ten minutes later I went out to see how he was doing. He was standing by the toaster, looking back at the cutting board, and back and forth again and again.
He was unable to connect the toast needing to go into the toaster and the button needing to be pressed. We worked through the process together.
When the toaster was finished and his toast popped up, he asked, "Does that turn it off?"
I am grateful that he sought my help, that he was able to begin shaving and then to finish, that he was able to take a dump without my help, that he was able to shower for the most part, that he was finally able to figure out how to get dressed, that he kissed my head as he left the bedroom and said, "I love you," that he was able to read the newspaper, that he was able to eat his toast after putting on the honey, and that he was able to go back to his newspaper.
I am grateful that I was able to keep my patience, not jump in to help too quickly, that I didn't get emotionally involved, that I was able to move from one difficulty to the next without anger, and that he kissed me on the head and said, "I love you."
I am frightened that we are getting closer to my having to more closely supervise his shaving and showering, physically helping him get dressed, and not only making his breakfast but also toasting his first up before breakfast snack because when confused verbal instructions do not work.
We have been up for two hours.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Further Adventures in the Life
For several years, Gregory has had a book, really a perpetual calendar, of photographs of architecture of the world. Each day he would turn the page to reveal a new famous building from around the world. Often he would call me over to enjoy the photograph with him.
Many of the buildings he knows or we have visited. Considering that his language skills continue to disappear (almost all gone?) it has always been an easy way to "share" an experience by "looking" without the need for "talking."
Just in case you are uncertain about what a perpetual calendar is, imagine a 365 page book, with each page having the name of the month and number of the day but no day names and no years. So you can look at the building for January 25th no matter what the day of the week or the year.
For Christmas I found another book by the same publisher only with famous paintings. I thought this would be a great addition to his library and to his daily routine, especially because he continues to loose skills and therefore has fewer things to do.
Turns out that the arrival of the second book coincided with the beginning of his being unable to remember the routine for using a perpetual calendar. Even when reminded of the day's number, "Today is 25," he has been unable to follow through with finding the page that has January 25 on it.
Every morning he calls me into the living room to go through the steps. Every morning he does not remember what we talked about the day before.
I cannot, first thing in the morning, sleep still in my eyes and on my mind, teach him how to do something that he will never learn how to do. I cannot explain to him what I am feeling without hurting his feelings and I cannot continue to explain the explanation every morning.
So at the risk of making him "feel less" but with the benefit of helping me not be angry or frustrated every morning, I told him, "Every night before we go to bed, I will take over turning the pages so the books will be ready for you in the morning."
He was OK with that (at least on the surface but who knows what he really feels below the surface as he is unable to explain or describe his feelings.)
I wish that I could make these transitions (which I really don't mind making) more smoothly and not after anger, frustration, and unkind words to Gregory. I work at bringing my emoitonal reactions and my intellectual understanding closer but FUCK, I am so tired ... and lonely ... and sad.
Many of the buildings he knows or we have visited. Considering that his language skills continue to disappear (almost all gone?) it has always been an easy way to "share" an experience by "looking" without the need for "talking."
Just in case you are uncertain about what a perpetual calendar is, imagine a 365 page book, with each page having the name of the month and number of the day but no day names and no years. So you can look at the building for January 25th no matter what the day of the week or the year.
For Christmas I found another book by the same publisher only with famous paintings. I thought this would be a great addition to his library and to his daily routine, especially because he continues to loose skills and therefore has fewer things to do.
Turns out that the arrival of the second book coincided with the beginning of his being unable to remember the routine for using a perpetual calendar. Even when reminded of the day's number, "Today is 25," he has been unable to follow through with finding the page that has January 25 on it.
Every morning he calls me into the living room to go through the steps. Every morning he does not remember what we talked about the day before.
I cannot, first thing in the morning, sleep still in my eyes and on my mind, teach him how to do something that he will never learn how to do. I cannot explain to him what I am feeling without hurting his feelings and I cannot continue to explain the explanation every morning.
So at the risk of making him "feel less" but with the benefit of helping me not be angry or frustrated every morning, I told him, "Every night before we go to bed, I will take over turning the pages so the books will be ready for you in the morning."
He was OK with that (at least on the surface but who knows what he really feels below the surface as he is unable to explain or describe his feelings.)
I wish that I could make these transitions (which I really don't mind making) more smoothly and not after anger, frustration, and unkind words to Gregory. I work at bringing my emoitonal reactions and my intellectual understanding closer but FUCK, I am so tired ... and lonely ... and sad.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Can You See A Pattern
Sometimes my postings are my way of getting the heaviness off my chest. Hopefully it doesn't end up on yours. I'll remind you that most of the time our days are good, full, uneventful. Getting there is often the battle.
My guess is that if one reread my postings often or chose to analyze them, one would see the coming and going of abilities with their eventual disappearance. One would see my frustration wax and wane as I learned to cope with and to deal with these ability changes. So here is today's fun!
This morning I tried to help Gregory figure out how to put moisturizer on his face (unsuccessfully,) spent watching him struggle for 5+ minutes to put on his zippered sweatshirt before I helped (successfully,) and advised him in how to turn OFF the toaster once the toast had popped (neither successfully or unsuccessfully since a toaster doesn't need turning off once the toast has popped.)
Re Moisturizer: He can put body lotion on his hands, rub them together, and apply it to his arms, legs, etc but cannot relate that process to doing the same for applying moisturizer to his face after shaving. Recently the shaving has been irritating his face so I thought I'd try the Oil of Olay (which I use so it is a familiar object around the bathroom.)
Gregory's approach is to put some in his hands and then rub his hands together so hard and so long that there is nothing left to put on his face. When I try to coach him through the process, he cannot spread it on both hands and apply to his face without tensing, shaking, and using only one hand at a time and therefore missing most of the necessary area.
On hold, haven't figured out this one yet!
Re Zippered Sweatshirt: It is like putting on a jacket or a shirt which he can do successfully. But for some reason when putting on the sweatshirt he has problems. He holds it up in the correct orientation then puts his hand in the wrong sleeve. He struggles for a while (since the sweatshirt is now incorrectly oriented,) takes it off and begins the process again after studying the garment closely.
Today I watched for +/- five minutes to see if he would get it. In the past I have tried to verbally coach him (which doesn't work,) I have tried to do it for him (which is a little embarrassing for him,) and have also tried to let him figure it out for himself (which he does once in a while.)
Today I figured out a new approach to coaching him through the process. When he was holding the shirt in the correct orientation, studying the lay of the land, I gently got up saying, "Don't move!" Often he physically reacts in a way that sets the stage differently so if I was going to be able to help, he is no longer in the same position and any association to the event under scrutiny is lost. This time he stood still. I pointed to the other sleeve hole and said, "Put your arm in here." He did. Success. "That's all it takes?" he remarked, amazed.
On hold, will see if this one works next time!
No need to discuss the toaster. Makes no sense to me but apparently makes no sense to him in a different way so when he asks, I just announce, "It goes off automatically. You don't have to do anything more." That is all it takes!
Not on hold, easily solved.
My guess is that if one reread my postings often or chose to analyze them, one would see the coming and going of abilities with their eventual disappearance. One would see my frustration wax and wane as I learned to cope with and to deal with these ability changes. So here is today's fun!
This morning I tried to help Gregory figure out how to put moisturizer on his face (unsuccessfully,) spent watching him struggle for 5+ minutes to put on his zippered sweatshirt before I helped (successfully,) and advised him in how to turn OFF the toaster once the toast had popped (neither successfully or unsuccessfully since a toaster doesn't need turning off once the toast has popped.)
Re Moisturizer: He can put body lotion on his hands, rub them together, and apply it to his arms, legs, etc but cannot relate that process to doing the same for applying moisturizer to his face after shaving. Recently the shaving has been irritating his face so I thought I'd try the Oil of Olay (which I use so it is a familiar object around the bathroom.)
Gregory's approach is to put some in his hands and then rub his hands together so hard and so long that there is nothing left to put on his face. When I try to coach him through the process, he cannot spread it on both hands and apply to his face without tensing, shaking, and using only one hand at a time and therefore missing most of the necessary area.
On hold, haven't figured out this one yet!
Re Zippered Sweatshirt: It is like putting on a jacket or a shirt which he can do successfully. But for some reason when putting on the sweatshirt he has problems. He holds it up in the correct orientation then puts his hand in the wrong sleeve. He struggles for a while (since the sweatshirt is now incorrectly oriented,) takes it off and begins the process again after studying the garment closely.
Today I watched for +/- five minutes to see if he would get it. In the past I have tried to verbally coach him (which doesn't work,) I have tried to do it for him (which is a little embarrassing for him,) and have also tried to let him figure it out for himself (which he does once in a while.)
Today I figured out a new approach to coaching him through the process. When he was holding the shirt in the correct orientation, studying the lay of the land, I gently got up saying, "Don't move!" Often he physically reacts in a way that sets the stage differently so if I was going to be able to help, he is no longer in the same position and any association to the event under scrutiny is lost. This time he stood still. I pointed to the other sleeve hole and said, "Put your arm in here." He did. Success. "That's all it takes?" he remarked, amazed.
On hold, will see if this one works next time!
No need to discuss the toaster. Makes no sense to me but apparently makes no sense to him in a different way so when he asks, I just announce, "It goes off automatically. You don't have to do anything more." That is all it takes!
Not on hold, easily solved.
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