I have been revamping things a little, as I get ready to get my studio back so I thought a recap was a good place to start.
Hubbie has been diagnosed with Frontal Temporal Dementia (FTD) although now he has a lung spot, an eye thing and it might even be Parkinson’s - I have quarantined his chair in case he’s becoming a contagion! He is fully inoculated against everything he doesn’t have. And yes, it is a regular case of FFS.
We used to live on Vancouver Island but after the diagnosis we sold up and moved back to our other house (no, we are not the Kardashians, or any other Star Trek characters). We were supposed to be heading into the good ol’ US of A to over winter then gently take back our home from our lovely tenants, after several months of lolling about campsites in National Parks. Boom! The plans changed and we did a U-turn in Lethbridge, many people do, and during a particularly cold snap on the prairies (because who doesn’t like being in a trailer in forty below) we managed to freeze the content of our grey (sink slops) and black (body slops) tanks - all without the use of running water, I might add, as we couldn’t risk freezing the pipes or the water heater. After it was defrosted by a professional and deemed perfect, it was slid into cold storage, like a treasure from Raiders of the Lost Ark, not to be seen again until a later sequel.
We are now in Edmonton and in a week we move back into our new, old, home. We will no sooner be in than a special wee mannie will come and tell us how we can drill holes in the wallboard to put handles everywhere so hubbie can maintain his dignity and not do Humpty Dumpty impersonations all day.
Our joy is our Alberta GP, we never managed to get one living on the Island for two years, when disease took its toll until we got the major diagnosis. Strangely, we got the most fantastic cardiologists and they got us the person who got us the diagnosis. Our GP is a joy because we see him, he sees us, we dig into issues, he gets us in the queues for specialists. The medical journey is far more important now than what we missed at the Grand Canyon although, if he says one more time, why don’t we go on a river cruise in Europe, I may need to be restrained.
There are the changes. Can’t shave, now I, or others, shave him and he loves it - it would appear this disease has freed him from one of the most tedious jobs of his life. Walking is hard, so first a walker and now a rented wheelchair. Dressing is complicated so now stretchy pants, that women discovered years ago and only now is hubbie catching on. I tell stories of Billy Connolly, and how his wife now dresses him, and Michael J. Fox, and how he will, it seems try anything to keep going. The stories amuse him and cheer him up when he feels, in his words, useless. Each challenge is met with a desire to find a way around it or a tool to support it. I have a new found respect for anyone with a disability navigating anything.
And then, there is love. We have been married for decades. The goal is to make this stage of our marriage as good as it can be but like any marriage stage there are the usual ups and downs. There are arguments, as you can imagine, trying to fact check someone with a neurological problem is something that is frankly a waste of time. Flat out refusals, that was the walker. The I could get used to this after the first time in the wheelchair. First stop stubborn followed by reluctance. And so on.
It’s not a special journey. We’re not especially brave. It’s just a journey. The paths diverged in the wood and I guess we got the lumpy one and that’s all there is to it (and don’t get me started on lumpy and wheelchairs).
p.s. I have Tiled or Air tagged pretty much anything and we are close to dumping the hated iPhone, although will keep it on the wifi, and now have walkie talkies instead, so much more fun, and only one button to press. Over.