Another Tumble

It's been quite awhile since Dean took a tumble, but this past weekend he chose to live up to his "fall risk" reputation. I thought he was safe to walk to the car by himself when I picked him up for church (no snow or ice yet, right?). He had forgotten to "sign out", so I quickly walked back into his new assisted living home to sign the notebook for that purpose.

Unfortunately, he kept walking on his own and plowed right into the curb by our car (at least that's what I think happened). Fortunately, there were a couple of men nearby to help him get up when I got there and he didn't appear to be injured very much. No blood and he assured me he hadn't hit his head. My, but that man falls gracefully. The hardest part is getting back up though.

Funny thing is, I've found it's always easier to fall than it is to get back up, isn't it? It didn't help that he has lost his eyeglasses somewhere that week, further hampering his already impaired vision. (He only sees with one eye.)

We need to keep our spiritual eyeglasses on and watch out for those curbs in life! Any of us could end up on the pavement, needing assistance from strangers. You'd think we'd learn from past experience, or better yet, from other people's experience.

Dean has fallen a great number of times. But haven't we all?

Home Alone

A preliminary assessment with a small monitor that Dean wore at home one night led to a decision for a complete sleep study to check his breathing while he slept, which meant a possible diagnosis of sleep apnea.

When they called me to schedule it at one of the sleep clinics here in town, I asked numerous questions about their setup and procedures out of concern for Dean's peculiar night-time needs. When I described his fall risk and symptoms of dementia, she determined that a hospital setting might be warranted for his safety.

So after four emergency room visits last month between the two of us (see my previous post), when each time a hospital stay seemed quite possible, Dean finally earned his hospital stay just to monitor his nighttime sleeping habits! And it wasn't even through the emergency room!

I wasn't about to complain though. It would mean a night of freedom for me, and since it was in the hospital, that also meant freedom from worry. On the way home, after dropping him off at the hospital in the evening, I thought about how to celebrate my night alone. Should I go shopping, eat at a restaurant, go see a friend?

But then I thought, no, I'll just go home and enjoy my freedom there. It would be a night of relaxation. I would choose a DVD to watch, without haggling over the choice with someone and having to pause it every time that person got up to leave the room. I would leave lights on in rooms I left, without having to go back and turn them off if I forgot. I would leave the toilet seat up or down as I pleased, and not even change the toilet paper roll immediately when it ran out. I might not even pick up after myself. My purse and keys would remain ON the table, instead of under it out of sight.

The evening was sounding more and more inviting. Only occasionally did I harbor thoughts of how Dean was faring at the hospital. Or how the hospital staff was faring with him there.

It wasn't until I got home with him the next morning that I learned that perhaps he was not enjoying his night away as much as I was. When I got there he seemed perfectly happy, feasting on his second pastry and downing a glass of orange juice.

The truth came out in the answering machine messages that awaited me when I got home. Three times he had called and told me that I could come and get him any time. He sounded rather desperate to get home, so it was good I got there when I did.

Evidently they had tried a C-PAP on him during the night, when he showed signs of needing one to see if it would make a difference. He said his nose felt like it was burning, with all that air blowing in there. Oh, my, I hope we can resolve this and find the best overall solution if he does have sleep apnea. I'm trying not to think about it.

Those messages on our answering machine still play in my mind though. I too am anxious to go home...home to heaven, where true rest and relaxation exists for an eternity, and not just a brief night while our loved ones struggle somewhere else. Help me not to lose my zeal for that homecoming called The Second Coming. "This world is not my home..."

Chasing After Dad

We just spent the last two days at a state brain injury conference in Kearney, Nebraska. That would be Dean, our daughter, and I. It was an action-packed time, full of adventures and felt like a big family reunion, since this was the seventh annual one they have had and we've attended.

We three adults shared a motel room this time, but our daughter didn't object too much until she found out how much her dad snores. She knew after last year what her duties were and thought they would actually be simplified by her being in the same room with us. I don't know how many times last year her dad forgot his room-key and they had to borrow one from the desk or come looking for me in the convention center somewhere.

One time last year we found each other in the vendor area. I'm thinking I spotted them first because they were pretty hard to miss. Dean had on his cowboy hat, a towel draped over his shoulder, and, most noticeable, feet that were bare. They were on their way to or from the pool, but had forgotten his roomkey. I came to recognize our daughter's furtive eye-rolling, a carryover from her teens, and would let her lean in to secretly whisper in my ear, "Mom, you're a saint!"

This year started out with a bang too. Or rather a plop. Dean fell full-body on the sidewalk outside her apartment as we were getting ready to leave. He thought he could step down from a foot-high retaining wall like the rest of us, and of course went down like a dishrag. Fortunately, our son-in-law was there to help hoist his 250 plus-lb. body back to an upright position. He wasn't hurt, but we were all certainly placed on red-alert to watch for falls again this time around.

After the first day's busy agenda, we three headed to the pool and spa in the motel for a little relaxation time. Dean was doing alright in the hot tub and then a quick dip in the pool. And then he wanted to go sit on the patio outdoors. It was early evening and getting rather chilly out there, so our daughter and I remained inside, knowing it was no use trying to change his mind. After letting him sit there in our view through the window for a short while, we knew one of us would have to fetch him back inside before he got too chilled.

Our daughter looked longingly at me and said, "Can you do it, Mom? I've been chasing him all day." I started laughing so hard, I could hardly get out my reply. "Well, I've been chasing him EVERY day!" And then we both about split our guts laughing, one of the best coping tools you can bring with you to a full-of-surprises brain injury convention, especially with characters like our "outlaw cowboy" in attendance.

King of the Remote

Dreaming Big

I know it's time I was letting my readers know how Dean is doing. To be honest, there's not much to report. He eats, he sleeps, he eats, he sleeps. Much like a newborn, I suppose. Nothing eventful I can sink my teeth into.

I could give details about some of the vivid dreams he's been having though. He can't seem to shake them when he wakes up. They are so real to him. They even affect his mood throughout the day I've noticed. One day he was very tired all day, because he'd been doing hard labor with a crew. He still says there's a pile of lumber in our backyard for evidence. Then one day he was very depressed. This dream involved a race car driver who was killed, and Dean felt responsible for it. Today, he's been a bit on the grumpy side, and I'm sure it has something to do with whatever he dreamed last night.

Dementia has so many different sides to it. The first year they said it was dementia, there was more memory loss, then falling a lot, this year seems to be the year of dreams and sleep disturbances. What next? Something tells me it will involve wandering. Not looking forward to that one.

Is this not how all of us tend to fall away from God? We forget how much He loves and provides for us, we start falling into sin, we sleep through sermons and dream big dreams for ourselves, and finally we wander away completely from God's side. A very telling story indeed.

Remembering the Falls

Looking over the past year, the most prevalent activity in the Thompson household was falling. Dean got the ball rolling the summer of 2011 when he fell on a curb and fractured his foot in three places. A few months later he stubbed and broke his little toe, on the other foot. Then he fell and cracked a rib. Another time he cut his knee up pretty bad, when he tripped and fell. And those were only the falls that produced injuries!

I made my contribution when I fell last spring and fractured my foot. I'll never forget the terrifying feeling of wondering who would take care of BOTH of us. When they showed me the "walking boot" I was to wear, I really shuddered. I had to help Dean put his on for months. There was no way he could return the favor. It was such a relief to find I could do it myself.

The hard part for me was using the walker and not putting pressure on the fractured foot, which translated to hopping everywhere I went. I would be short of breath after each hop. It was slow going, and miserable for my poor lungs, but I survived.

I don't know what the future holds, but I do know that, whatever it is, there is a God who will see us through. Just as He has this past year. We will survive all our falls, and God will take care of both of us.

New Year...bring it on!

The Key to Peace

When we got back to the car after a dental appointment today, Dean had to go down some steps and almost stumbled. He caught himself by grabbing onto the car just as our car horn went off for seemingly no reason, except maybe it didn't like being pounded on by a 240-lb. man.

 I hurriedly put the key in the ignition, thinking that would turn off the anti-theft system. After trying several other things to stop the honking and start the car, I finally thought to put the key into the door lock, and thankfully that solved the problem. Whew...peace and quiet again. I just wasn't putting the key in the right place.

I am always happy to find peace and quiet in my tumultuous life. I just have to remember to put my key in the right place.

"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." John 14:27

I can put my "key" in the world or in Jesus. I'll take Jesus' peace any day.

All For a Q-Tip

I was up rather late last night, simply because I had been babysitting for the grandchildren at their house earlier. Suddenly I heard a loud thud and a familiar moan come from the room next to me. I rushed in to see that Dean had once again fallen. This time he was sitting on the floor of his closet, and simply asked me to help him up.

After much effort to get him back in bed, my nephew heard the ruckus and came in to help him get up from the floor. I asked Dean what he was doing out of bed and he said he got up to get a Q-tip. What a price to pay for a Q-tip. But once again there didn't seem to be any injuries to report, so we tried to make light of it and all went back to bed.

How many times we pay enormous prices for the momentary pleasure of something as fleeting as a Q-tip? It makes you want to examine your life for anything that just isn't worth the cost of your salvation. God has a better plan that won't end up with us helpless on the floor, needing others to help us up.

"Timberrrr!"

There were a couple of highlights in my day. The first was when I had to rush outside in my bare feet to prevent Dean from going out to get the mail in his underwear this morning. Our new mailman comes unusually early now. Didn't realize how many acorns there were on the driveway till I found myself trying to avoid them in my bare feet.

Then this afternoon when we went to get some new eyeglasses for Dean (we've been looking over a month for the ones he lost), he almost fell once by not clearing the receptionist's desk enough, and then he actually did fall when he was about to sit in a chair to get fitted for glasses. I'm talking about a full sprawled-out-his-whole-length-on-the-floor kind of fall. Fortunately, he didn't hit any dangerous objects coming down and wasn't hurt, but getting him back up was the hard part. It took three women staff members to do the trick.

He falls so slowly, like in slow motion. Reminds me of the big trees that he used to fell when he logged in the mountains of Montana when we were young. One is almost tempted to shout "timber" before he actually lands.

Even though his angels didn't bear him up today in their hands (Psalm 91), they did send plenty of human "angels" to get him up off the floor. And that's what the good Lord does for all of us. We can count on Him to get us back up when we fall into sin. No matter what kind of fall it is. And no matter what kind of sin.

Fix My Jeans, Please!

I was peacefully on my laptop yesterday when I heard Dean come in the front door from his adult day program. I knew the van that transports him was due anytime. As usual, he was scolding our little, yappy dog at the door, but I heard him say the words "Leave me alone, Minnie, I'm hurting."

I rushed out to the living room to see what had happened and saw him with a paper towel rapidly getting soaked with blood from his finger. Of course, he had fallen somewhere outside between the van and the house--just the short length of our driveway.

Dean's attention wasn't on his hand though. He pointed to his knee, and I was afraid of what injury might lie there too. But he informed me that his concern was for his torn jeans! There was indeed a couple-inch rip in the knee of his Levis. Peering through the hole I could see some blood from a scrape on his knee perhaps, but it didn't seem to be bleeding profusely like his finger.

He wasn't going to allow me access to these wounds, I could tell, so I went to the phone and called his home health agency and they sent his nurse over. Fortunately, it was his regular nurse and she set about getting his two injuries cleaned and bandaged. She had him "all better" within an hour, sitting comfortably in his recliner (fully dressed, without his jeans on, if you can picture that).

Shouldn't we all insist on waiting for the "Real Nurse" to come on the scene when we have an accident in our life? God is on call 24 hours, just like our home health agency. The trial or problem may still be plaguing you, but you and those around you will feel "all better" about the situation after a prayer call and His always rapid response.

Was surprised he didn't ask the nurse to mend his jeans too!

Bloody Elbow

When Kayla, our daughter, came back from a store with her dad today, she had good news and bad news. He was walking in the store with his two little granddaughters on each side, holding their hands. They came to a step that went down and four-year-old Jenna said, as she's heard us do, "There's a step here, Grampa." He has very poor, lower peripheral vision.

But her warning was a second too late. As Dean started to go down, he pushed Jenna out of the way and let go of Julia's hand before he kissed the ground. He had a bleeding elbow to show for his accidental acrobatic show, but at least the girls were out of harm's way. Hence the bad and the good news.

There is a lesson for my daughter to learn with each outing. Last time she learned not to let him hold one of the girls. This time she discovered that even holding their hands can lead to disaster.

I remember one of the last times Grandpa went with them, Jenna told me with her good-bye that they would take good care of Grandpa. So young, but wise to recognize his limitations with dementia and brain injury.

And I'm likewise impressed with Dean's ability to always protect his granddaughters as much as he can, even if it will mean more injury to himself. God is indeed speaking to him and helping him with those kind of quick reflexes.

I hope I can always put others first in my relationships, just like Jesus has done for me.

In His Arms

The nurse came today to evaluate Dean after his fall this weekend. She usually comes on Thursday, but I knew she'd want to see him before then, since he has complained of pain in his ribs again. I think it is getting better each day though, so the damage must be minimal. I was glad I wouldn't have to take him to see a doctor. Am not feeling up to much myself with this cold still raging in me.

I was just looking at my old calenders  to see how many colds I have had the past few years. I've been marking them down. The amazing thing was that I never had a cold that interfered with taking care of my parents the year I was caregiving for them. But after both of the funerals were over, I caught three bad colds almost on top of each other.

Now it could possibly be explained that I was operating on adrenalin and it might have boosted my immune system. But I actually did get one or two mild colds that year during times that my care wasn't needed as badly. Once when my sister was here to help.

No, I think it was God putting a protective hand on me. Giving me the strength and health I would need to do intense work that I still can't believe I was able physically to perform. God was very close to our whole family when we needed it. I picture Him carrying us in His arms and leaving only one set of footprints in the sand, as a famous poem depicts.

How close we are when we are in someone's arms. I know He's still walking beside me now and the future holds no fear. He's going to see us through it.

Me and my oxygen in North Carolina in 2011--lots of footprints here!

Fall Prevention

I've been hesitant to leave Dean for more than an hour or two by himself, but yesterday proved that disasters can happen even when he's not alone. It was early afternoon; I was in bed, nursing this cold, when my nephew and I heard a loud thud and moan coming from the living room. We both rushed out there to find him on the floor with a chair suspiciously in the middle of the room underneath the ceiling fan.

The fan had broken a blade last week and he wanted to inspect the damage via standing on the chair. Not a wise choice when you consider he had seven falls in one month last spring. Fortunately, he didn't seem to suffer too much from the spill. Fell on his wrist, which was hurting some, but he could move it alright. I'm afraid it didn't do his cracked ribs much good though, because he woke me up at 1:30 in the morning, complaining that he couldn't sleep and was hurting. Gave him a couple of Tylenol. I'll call his home health nurse tomorrow, especially if it keeps him up again.

Aren't we all a bit like Dean though? We think we are capable of fixing things in our life on our own, when the truth is we're just going to fall and make it all worse in the end. Dean struggles with being dependent on us, but we all struggle with depending on God. Dean needs to ask us before tackling any kind of job, but we should do the same with God. We could prevent a lot of falls that way.

Pushing Pills

I have come to see how really freeing it has been to have home health nurses visit our house every week. Our regular nurse, who usually fills Dean's pill organizer, wasn't scheduled to come last week and I forgot to ask the other nurse till it was too late. So Sunday morning I was up bright and early, sorting and filling the pill box. It felt odd doing it myself again. I had mixed feelings.

I had some guilt feelings about having the nurse do it in the first place a few months ago. It's not much work really. Plus at first I was worried she would make mistakes. It was hard to turn over the responsibility to someone else. I had so much ownership in it.

I slowly enjoyed not having to "push" the pills into that little box though. And then the feeling suddenly hit me this week that maybe I deserved to be free of the task. After all, I had done it religiously for over ten years. It's about time to turn it over to someone who will get paid for it.

The bath aides who help him shower three times a week have also been a blessing. They not only relieve my mind about him falling in the shower, but I don't have to argue with him about whether to shampoo. They keep track of it in their reports. How many years I have struggled with these issues on my own. It's nice to have reinforcements there to lighten the load even a little.

All I can say is that God knew when the time was right for the nurses to come on the scene. It wouldn't have happened if Dean hadn't fractured his foot last summer. Of all his falls over the years, this was the first one resulting in a fracture. Also, our case manager was temporarily changed, and she was experienced enough to know that we needed help around here, so she arranged for the home health agency to offer care.

All was ripe for this intervention and I have no doubt that God, our primary Case Manager, was overlooking the whole operation. And will continue to do so...

Cracked Ribs

Yesterday was Dean's fifth fall this month. He just fell in the house this time. But after X-rays, we find out he has cracked ribs from it. I hope the pain patch gives him some relief from the pain tonight. I should have listened to him better and knew that the ribs were cracked. He kept saying they were, but I thought they must just be bruised. He didn't fall that hard.

I'm so glad we have a God who knows just how much pain we endure and how serious our injuries are. He knows us better than we do. He also knows how much pain is too much, and has promised not to give us more than we can endure.

I've often said that my man was made of iron to have gone through so much. But even iron rusts out eventually. We're starting to see some rust in this buggy.

In Grandpa's Arms

Dean took his almost-two-year-old granddaughter for a ride this evening. A quite scary ride, in fact, and we weren't even at the Fair. She loves to see Grandpa, or G-pop, and is always anxious to go to him. So shortly after they arrived, he had her in his arms. Before we knew it, they took a ride from a standing position all the way to the floor, as he mistook the telephone table for his chair.

There were lots of things to catch their fall, though none of them were of the soft variety--the box of DVDs, a jar with pencils, a lamp, and of course, the telephone, to mention a few. A tray and a table will have to be replaced. But thank heaven, both riders survived the crash, with nothing but a scared psyche to mark the event. Grandpa held onto her admirably, thinking of nothing but protecting her during the fall.

If I fall, I want my loving Grandpa God to have me in  His arms too. I know His only thought will be to protect me as we go down. There may be lots of debris between us and the floor, but God will make sure that His precious child will land unharmed, even if there are some bruises and terrors on the way. We will go down together. And He will help pick up the pieces.

Holding On

Winter is over, with its icy streets and sidewalks. A real threat to some individuals prone to the worst effects of a fall. How odd that my fall recently had nothing to do with slippery snow and ice; and numerous friends lately have succumbed to the same embarrassing, ungraceful stumbles and tumbles, resulting in various injuries and complaints.

We go all winter without incident, then spring awakens the plant world with temperatures soaring, and next thing we know our feet go soaring. Right out from under us.

Sin has a way of catching us off guard too. Just when we think we are out of the danger of falling, of partaking of some harmful indulgence we have tried to put behind us, we find ourselves flat on our face again. Looking up into the face of God and asking Him "Why me, Lord?"

Most of us have learned that one way to prevent falls in the winter is to wear shoes with some tread and to hold onto something or someone when possible. Can we not prevent some of our spiritual falls by fortifying our minds with some Bible and prayer "tread" and hanging onto Jesus and our good Christian friends like our lives depended on it? And I suppose, as a matter of fact, they do.

Ring-a-round-a-rosy

What a joy to watch our two granddaughters learn to play a simple game like "Ring-a-round-a-rosy" this week. Jenna is three, so she was teaching her one-year-old sister Julia how to play the game. She was following along pretty well with walking in a circle while Jenna sang the song.

Of course, when it got to the part about "all fall down" Jenna forcibly brought her sister down with her as she tumbled to the floor, both of them all smiles and giggles, with onlooking adults applauding. Julia had resisted enough though that the second time around, Jenna got on top of little sister to make her go down. By the third time, little Julia had it all figured out, so before they even got to the words "all fall down" she fell to the ground all on her own. What a smart little girl!

In a similar fashion, as we learn about life, the Lord sometimes has to make us "fall down". It's just part of the game of life. It's eventually easier for us when we learn how to fall and to see when the fall is coming. You have to listen to the words of the song though. Let's listen and follow the directions of our Lord. Life will be so much easier if we do. And the angels will watch and applaud our efforts.

The Old Boot

We saw the podiatrist today and thankfully my husband doesn't have to wear "the boot" any more, just his regular shoes. Six months of "velcro-ing" him up every day was getting old. Yes, it's been six months since he tripped on a curb and injured his foot. First time he has had a fracture from one of his falls. I certainly hope it's the last!

But the sad truth is it probably won't be his last fall. Like everything in life, "falls" are going to happen. Ever since Adam and Eve, we've been considered a fallen race. Satan is out there, ready to trip us up at every turn. We can choose not to go where Satan hangs out the most (icy sidewalks). And another protection is hanging onto Someone (or even something, like a walker or cane).

I'm looking forward to a New Earth where "falls" will be a thing of the past. We won't need to wear "the boot" and our "walker" will be walking by our side, instead of in front of us. His name is Jesus.

Falling...again

One more day till my husband gets his foot X-rayed again to see if his foot fractures have healed enough to take the "boot" off. We have waited months for them to heal, so needless to say, I was mortified when he fell again today in a store!

Fortunately, he didn't appear to be injured this time, even though he went totally down to the floor and needed some help to get back up. Many times he has fallen and not gotten hurt. I think he just knows how to land well. He goes down so gracefully. Heaven knows he's had lots of practice with falling down during his wild, barroom days. It's the only explanation I can come up with, except that there are also angels orchestrating his downward spirals and cushioning his tumbles.

Psalm 91:11 and 12 says "For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways, They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone." Yes, I do believe he fell into the arms of some angels today. We'll have to watch out more for those "stones".

Salsa Nosedive

We were making haystacks for supper tonight and someone, who will remain nameless, was taking ingredients out of the refrigerator. Suddenly something came crashing to the floor with a thud. Knowing that it wouldn't be pretty, all eyes were still drawn to the floor where the item that fell came to an untimely demise.

The big bottle of salsa (fortunately plastic) now was sharing half its contents with the kitchen floor. Evidently, the bottle had been placed too close to the edge of the stove before it made its nosedive performance. No one pushed it; it just wasn't designed to sit so precariously for any length of time.

Aren't we like that bottle of salsa? We find ourselves sitting on the edge of making a full commitment to God. Don't wait till the natural pull of gravity-sin pulls you over the edge and you find yourself in a messy heap on the floor of your life.