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John and Donna’s
Christmas Carol – 2019 |
DONNAandJOHN'S
STORY |
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Snow is coming! I can feel it in my knees. The winds have changed and it’s getting very cold. Our normal, moderate, rainy autumn weather has been ousted by arctic outflow; sub-zero winds wafting down our mountain valleys from somewhere up north: Nunavut, or maybe Yukon. Do you suppose it could come from Alaska; a Christmas gift from ‘The Donald’? No? Am I just a whining wimp from the ‘Wet Coast’? Bah! Humbug!
Today, I’m cuddling up – or maybe shrivelling up – in front of my ‘imitation’ fire-place, watching my ‘imitation’ log-fire (in HD). I’m pretending I’m warm but it’s not working. I’m thinking of my friend Gary, who’s currently sunning himself in Puerto Vallarta – PV to you regulars. |
I’m not a lover of cold, snowy days. Nor am I a lover of hot, humid days. Please! Nothing below fifteen degrees or above twenty-eight, if you want to please me. There are a few umbrellas that I have strategically placed in various places, just in case. There’s one in my doctor’s office, one or two at George Derby, one in Cioffi’s Italian Deli over on Hastings Street, maybe one at Sandy’s too. I’ll have to ask her. There are also three more in my car. They’ll be needed for our normal wet, not white, Christmas. I’m ready! That’s why I have rust in my veins. Or perhaps some other vitriolic fluid that’s also low in haemoglobin. Bah! Humbug!
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Unlike me, Donna doesn’t have any complaints. She is warm and dry, and looks prettier these days now that Marylynn and I have replaced some of her old and much worn blouses, shirts and pants with lighter, more colourful choices. Donna is ‘beginning to look a lot like Christmas’.
Me? I’m more like Scrooge, or worse; no Christmas tree, no decorations, and no lights. Sounds of jingle bells softly floating through my condo; noticeably lacking.
Donna is happy and also very healthy. There is nothing wrong with her, except for those plaques and tangles in certain parts of her brain. Over this past year, there has been no noticeable change in her, and that’s a little surprising. Care-aides notice it too. Others around her continue to regress, but Donna has enjoyed a very stable year – her tenth with Alzheimer’s, and her fourth at George Derby.
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She wanted my hat and gloves. Does she really think I’m taking her outside for a sub-zero spin around the garden?
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She is, of course, no longer ambulatory, as I alluded to last Christmas. She had a few sessions with the physio-therapy folks back in February, to see if they could coax her back to her feet, but that didn’t work. She’s mostly happy in her wheel-chair, sitting quietly wherever her care-aides place her. Well, not always “sitting quietly.” Sometimes she sings; sometimes she chatters loudly…and endlessly, to the often vociferous annoyance of other residents, and to the quiet, unspoken irritation of the care-aides.
Donna loves all visitors. She is still very gregarious and likes people, particularly those who pay some attention to her. Watching a Christmas concert the other day – a Korean children’s orchestra – Donna reached out to one of the children who was clutching a violin. The young girl – probably around eight years old – took Donna’s hand, and held it while Donna chatted to her. The questioning looks came quickly as the girl didn’t understand a word Donna was saying. Perhaps the girl didn’t understand English. More probably her English was excellent; she just didn’t understand Alzheimer’s. The two of them smiled at each other and I’m sure both were pleased. I wish I captured that moment in a photo.
Donna loves all visitors. She is still very gregarious and likes people, particularly those who pay some attention to her. Watching a Christmas concert the other day – a Korean children’s orchestra – Donna reached out to one of the children who was clutching a violin. The young girl – probably around eight years old – took Donna’s hand, and held it while Donna chatted to her. The questioning looks came quickly as the girl didn’t understand a word Donna was saying. Perhaps the girl didn’t understand English. More probably her English was excellent; she just didn’t understand Alzheimer’s. The two of them smiled at each other and I’m sure both were pleased. I wish I captured that moment in a photo.
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She loves it on those days we go down-stairs to the Town Hall for ‘Pub Night’ – Wednesday afternoons. Elva, an ex-member of Donna’s ‘Golden Girls’ tap class from many years ago, comes to see her each Wednesday. Donna remembers Elva’s face, if not her name, and greets her enthusiastically. Elva brings a bowl of fresh fruit which is quickly and eagerly devoured. Along with Sue and Gary, there are always five or six of us singing and chatting at our table. Management is getting edgy about us. For some reason, one of us seems to win the 50/50 every couple of weeks.
Donna also loves the almost daily visits from her companion, Karen. Karen has been working with Donna for two years now, and has become a very good friend. She chats with Donna, takes her for rides all over G.D., including downstairs to Maria to have her hair done each week. Maria shampoos, combs, and periodically trims Donna’s hair – does a really nice job, so I’m told. I don’t really know. Karen explains to me that as pretty as her hair looks, as soon as Maria finishes, Donna runs her hands all through it. Seems she prefers the David Bowie look. |
Rebel, Rebel
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She notices me immediately on my arrival; either sees me from across the room, or hears and recognizes my voice. Smiles appear! Chatter begins! Or she loudly calls “Johnnie, Johnnie, Johnnie!” continuously until I respond, stop talking to everyone else, and come over to kiss her. Actually, ‘Johnnie’ is used to summon all of her servants; not just me. Once we kiss, then we can talk!
Talking with Donna is a little different these days. There is something new about her that confuses me at times. When talking to others with Donna beside me, it’s common for me to think she’s not listening, and refer to her in the third person. I might say something like, “Yes! She will often do that!” or, “Donna used to say that!” Donna, with eyes glancing back and forth listening to every word being said, will interject, “No, I didn’t!” She has understood our conversation! It surprises me, and reminds me that despite all the horrors she has been through, Donna is still here and present in ‘our world’ a lot of the time. The beauty of all this is that I get to have some meaningful, if short, conversations with her.
I notice this quality with other residents as well – even those who never speak; those who you might think are comatose. Even Sue, who no longer talks, will utter a surprising comment, totally in context with the general conversation. It’s confusing! I thought those conscious reactions were long gone from Donna’s capabilities. Trying to understand Alzheimer’s is very difficult. Just when I think I know something, an event occurs that proves I don’t. The only thing I’m sure of, is that there are no rules; no norm that fits every situation.
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Talking with Donna is a little different these days. There is something new about her that confuses me at times. When talking to others with Donna beside me, it’s common for me to think she’s not listening, and refer to her in the third person. I might say something like, “Yes! She will often do that!” or, “Donna used to say that!” Donna, with eyes glancing back and forth listening to every word being said, will interject, “No, I didn’t!” She has understood our conversation! It surprises me, and reminds me that despite all the horrors she has been through, Donna is still here and present in ‘our world’ a lot of the time. The beauty of all this is that I get to have some meaningful, if short, conversations with her.
I notice this quality with other residents as well – even those who never speak; those who you might think are comatose. Even Sue, who no longer talks, will utter a surprising comment, totally in context with the general conversation. It’s confusing! I thought those conscious reactions were long gone from Donna’s capabilities. Trying to understand Alzheimer’s is very difficult. Just when I think I know something, an event occurs that proves I don’t. The only thing I’m sure of, is that there are no rules; no norm that fits every situation.
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My world also hasn’t changed much over the past year. I’m still happy to be free of my Strata Council, and happy to be elected president again for the G.D. Family Council. And, if truth be told, I have no cause to continue whining about arctic outflow. On this occasion it was short-lived; only lasted a day or two. I have warmed up and am getting rusty again.
This past year, with much help from my sister Sandy, I finished all the finicky editing necessary on my new manuscript, ‘Jebediah Bilodeau’. Can’t call it a book yet. I want to get it published, if I can get an agent to read past the first five pages – publisher’s norm, these days. I have to line up with the twenty-thousand prospective new authors that reach the market place every year; all with their explosive, stunningly brilliant, unique story themes that the world is just crying out to read, and own. (Sigh!) It is likely that if I want to see ‘Jeb’ in print I will have to do it myself. |
I’m a busy person these days. Between my multiple visits to Donna each week and the extra demands of being on G.D. Family Council, it appears that I am primarily at the beck and call of about half of the local medical profession; all who want to use their new exploratory tools to have a close-up look inside me – see what makes me tick. Not my GP! He couldn’t care less. It takes me two to three weeks to see him, just to get my prescriptions filled. It’s the specialists who want to get their hands on me, stick things inside me, and incessantly demand more samples of my much-loved rusty vitriol even though it is low in haemoglobin.
In September, I had a bit of a turn that took me to the local Emergency Dept. My chest was hurting. After a day spent there, the doctor told me I was a high-risk individual. I got the impression he thought my heart was about to pack it in that day. I was ordered to go see my cardiologist – “immediately”. Immediately?!?! Have you ever tried to see a cardiologist immediately? There are three working from my doctor’s locale, and the earliest I could see one of them was mid-March – six months away. The medical profession has a different definition than I do for the word ‘immediately’.
Each specialist has a battery of tests lined up for me to endure; tests that take me all over the city. Back and forth; back and forth. I am making lots of trips to see my ‘nephrologist’ (I only have one kidney), my ‘haematologist’ (guess what she’s checking), and my ‘internist’. Everything inside me excites my internist. Why is it always my body she’s after? Can’t she just love me for my mind; for my personality?
And nobody seems to have the time to explain things and let me know what’s going on. What I want to do is some more writing. Fat chance!
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In September, I had a bit of a turn that took me to the local Emergency Dept. My chest was hurting. After a day spent there, the doctor told me I was a high-risk individual. I got the impression he thought my heart was about to pack it in that day. I was ordered to go see my cardiologist – “immediately”. Immediately?!?! Have you ever tried to see a cardiologist immediately? There are three working from my doctor’s locale, and the earliest I could see one of them was mid-March – six months away. The medical profession has a different definition than I do for the word ‘immediately’.
Each specialist has a battery of tests lined up for me to endure; tests that take me all over the city. Back and forth; back and forth. I am making lots of trips to see my ‘nephrologist’ (I only have one kidney), my ‘haematologist’ (guess what she’s checking), and my ‘internist’. Everything inside me excites my internist. Why is it always my body she’s after? Can’t she just love me for my mind; for my personality?
And nobody seems to have the time to explain things and let me know what’s going on. What I want to do is some more writing. Fat chance!
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This is Donna’s fifth Christmas at George Derby. I shall visit her on Christmas Eve, and maybe for a short time on Christmas morning. Christmas day, a family day, is unbelievably quiet at G.D. Skeleton staff on duty; no laughter, or singing; and virtually no family visiting. ‘Family’ is elsewhere on Christmas day. I will be enjoying Les and Brian’s family in Abbotsford this year.
We both offer our love and hope you have a perfect, warm and comfortable Xmas.
John & Donna |
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In case you’re wondering, I am not strong-arming Donna, or about to throttle her. This is an expression of our love.
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