Out of the Mouths of Elders...

Two years ago when I scaled down my medical practice to work part time I turned over many of my longtime patients to colleagues. Periodically however, I still see some of my former patients when they're hospitalized since much of the work I do is inpatient rounding on weekends. Today was one of those days. A 92 year old, spunky lady who I'd not seen for some time was on my list; she'd been hospitalized for a week but was clearly much better and actually ready for discharge; all good. I had been her doctor for several years before I left my full time work.

When I introduced myself to her, she looked at me with her piercing blue eyes and a flash of recognition came over her face.

"I remember you, Doctor", she said. And then, "How are your parents doing?"

I was shocked that she recalled that one of the reasons I had to cut back on my work was to care for elderly parents in declining health. Plagued by her own issues with short term memory lapses, she may have been able to pull up this memory of my parents because I'd always told her that they were her same age and that being born in 1917 was "very cool". Frankly, I was touched that she inquired.

"They're doing pretty well", I told her. "They're just old; the same age as you." and I grinned at her.

She laughed and said, " I can't remember if I'm 91 or 92, maybe it's 93. All I know is that getting old is the SHITS!"

I cracked up, laughed out loud, and reached for her hand giving it a good squeeze.

"You make me laugh!", I said.

"I love you, Doctor".

"I love you too."

In some ways you had to be there; it was a grand scene. She was laughing, I was laughing, the woman in the next bed was laughing. Never one to mince words, this not-so-little white haired lady hit the nail on the head. I'm glad she was able to go home today, that her health is better. And, I think she's right; getting old is "the shits".

I told the story to Mom and Dad today. I got a laugh out of both of them and saw a happy tear in my father's eye.

Out of the mouths of our elders....listen closely one and all.

'

My Challenge

Dementia relentlessly casts its evil spell bit by bit until the person that was is no more. I'm left with anger and frustration as paths of least resistance when I'd prefer the paths of love and compassion. Would that I could overcome consistently the urge to lash out at the person who never chose this disease and who suffers mightily. Would that love infuse this kingdom of pain, beating off the woeful beast that destroys a life while nurturing the nuggets of what remain.



View of the collapsed Natural Bridge on Aruba's north coast

Monday's Lessons

Things I had to learn (again) today:

1. Never argue with someone suffering from dementia. The playing field isn't level. It's not fair by any stretch of the imagination.

2. Quit being selfish; frustration is understandable but how I express this is totally under my control. Think first. Take a breath and think first before letting words out of my mouth.

3. I have incredible power to hurt with my words; remember this every day.

4. I am part of any problem; sometimes small, sometimes large but always play some role. The role is under my control.

Happy Saturday

This is what brought me JOY yesterday. We found a great Mexican restaurant on the main drag in Monroe, Washington called Tijuana. It's the real deal, a find in a land dominated by Northwest cuisine. We drove an hour each way in the rain to enjoy lunch, seated in a booth at this family run business with these two wonderful people, Chris and his girlfriend Heather. Laughs and good food shared with those we love. What could be better?

Sleepless in Seattle

My internal clock went "zing" at 4:30 AM today. After pretending that I could overcome the call for coffee and a start to the day, I gave in at 5 AM, poured the first cup and started reading blogs. The glow of my laptop casts an eerie light in this shared bedroom of mine but Denny doesn't seem to mind my early morning clicking on the computer. He's become immune.

So now, I write my own post for the day on a morning when I felt certain I'd "sleep in" just a bit after a "bust-ass" busy week at work. No way. My brain, on "work-overload" for six out of the nine days into our New Year, has me on the eternal treadmill of thought after thought after thought. I'm in sore need of a restorative yoga class with an emphasis on pranyama and shavasana. Maybe soon, I say. Wasn't my New Year's promise to myself the gift of time to pursue joy in my life? I'm about 10 days behind on that plan but hope springs eternal. I'm off work for the next 6 days and WILL launch, even if it's baby steps, my plan.

One of the first things I need to do is to cure myself of this addiction to modes of communication (including email) but especially the telephone. I walk around so worried that I'll miss an important call (from either my daughter overseas or the adult family home where Mom and Dad reside) that I walk around all day with my cell in my pants pocket and a beeper on my belt. Plus, when I'm home, the cordless phone is never more than a foot away (because if I'm in the shower, I'll certainly hear it ringing). Sicko. But even worse is the insanity that goes on at night. When I'm on-call for work, I've got the pager under my pillow on vibrate mode, the cell phone on my nightstand, and the cordless house phone right next to the cell. Oy. No wonder I'm a jumpy mess.

Do I have an addiction to being "needed"? Duh!

This is dumb and it isn't healthy. I look back on the early days of the cell phone when my clunky apparatus stayed on "off mode" in my purse. I only turned it on and made a call when I needed to do so and incoming calls weren't even on the radar. This sounds so foreign to me now as I live in a world where I feel that unless I'm connected minute to minute 24/7, something bad will happen or something important will get by me. Perish the thought.

So, Sleepless in Seattle (me) is going to work on this problem in baby steps. In fact, I had my first lesson that I don't have to be first up to bat 24/7. Yesterday, unbeknown to me, my cell phone which was dutifully minding its duties in my pants pocket, was on the fritz and all 6 "important" incoming calls went directly to voice mail only to be discovered later. Lo and behold, the world did not come to an end! In fact, those who couldn't reach me somehow made do and figured out a plan on their own for whatever the issue happened to be. Amazing how these folks just forged ahead on their own without me!

I'm learning that if I kick the bucket take myself out of the loop, people all over the world keep breathing, making plans and living quite nicely, thank you. It's a tough lesson, but I gotta learn it. However, I am up for the day, early as it may be. It's still dark in Seattle. I'm on my second cup of coffee and very awake. But, I'm determined today to find joy and to throw the cell phone down the toilet (well, sort of...).

One lovely plan is a road trip with Denny, Chris and his girlfriend Heather to a fabulous and authentic Mexican restaurant in the great town of Monroe, Washington today.

Reflections on Holidays 2008

It is dawn in Seattle and I'm sitting in the living room listening to the grandfather clock tick away the seconds. The Christmas tree is still up and amazingly still smells wonderful. We bought the tree a week before Christmas, fresh, very green, and fragrant. Usually by this time of year, I want it out of my life. Packing up all the ornaments and lights, putting away the other holiday decorations and sweeping up the living room of stray needles and other debris gives me a "new year" feeling. This year, I feel differently.

This Christmas was so strange; unlike any other in my memory. Although we stuck to our typical traditions, we never had a "gathering of the clan" as I like to say. No Christmas pudding, ignited with 151 Rum, brought from the kitchen on a serving platter, blue flames lighting up the darkened room with cheers all around. I really missed those moments. Although I doubt Mom and Dad had this thought, I certainly did: this was the first Christmas in all of Mom's 91 years that she didn't re-live this tradition and for Dad, 67 years of marriage came with the same number of holiday puddings. Sigh. This photo is from Christmas 2007 as my sister and Mom prepared the foamy yellow sauce for the gathered clan. I'm hoping she has another chance to do this again.

Now we are into the New Year. Mom is out of the hospital as of yesterday. We enjoyed a celebratory cake and coffee when she arrived home and a banner just inside the door said, "Welcome Home Doris". She is better. Dad is better. I'm grateful.

Mom mentioned yesterday, "My, I haven't done any Christmas shopping this year; the time got away from me."

I responded, " That's all OK, Mom. Christmas has come and gone and you don't need to worry about it anymore." And as we often say in our family once the day has passed, "Christmas is as far away as it will ever be." I got a chuckle out of Mom on this one; maybe some relief knowing she wouldn't have to think about things Holiday for awhile.

And so today, as I sit in my living room enjoying the last bit of what was Christmas, I'm accepting of where my life is right now. "It is what it is.", as my sister reminded me many times over the last two weeks. We move forward from here. In 2009, I'm going to focus on what brings me JOY and pursue that with more vigor. That's my New Year's plan. Stay tuned for my idea of JOY. I'll probably be writing about it on this blog off and on.

Goodbye Holidays. Happy 2009.

Happy New Year

Happy 2009 to all!

We're about to enjoy some black eyed peas served over rice with a side of collard greens. Our southern roots shine through.

Photo of Seattle's Space Needle fireworks just after midnight last night, courtesy of Crashworks.