Tag: caregiving

We Step Out for the Night: Caregiver’s World

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It was Thursday night and I was getting ready to meet Grete, a family member, at a restaurant for dinner. Dennis was back in bed after an afternoon in the recliner. I crushed up his evening pills, dissolved them in some water and took them over to pour them in the feeding tube. It was about time for our hired caregiver to arrive, and for me to leave.

I hooked up the syringe/funnel to the husband’s feeding tube and poured medicine in and watched as a wet circle appeared on his shirt. I checked my connections with alarm and couldn’t see any leaks or openings. Then I lifted the shirt and discovered the real cause. The other end of the tube was no longer in his stomach.

There it was, with the balloon that was supposed to keep it in place mostly deflated. I didn’t know when it had come out, or why, but it probably didn’t take much to bring it out. Something like this had happened when he was in the nursing home and it resulted in a trip to the Spooner ER for tube replacement.

I seriously entertained the thought of sticking the thing back in, and would have tried if I had known I could inflate the balloon to keep it in. I didn’t have the right kind of syringe to do that, so I followed plan #2, call the Hospice nurse. Let someone else decide…

I also called Grete and asked to postpone our dinner to another day, knowing that it might take a while to see this circumstance to a satisfactory end. I also called the caregiver and told her we most likely would not be home. The husband and I were stepping out for the night.

Who wouldn’t want to spend an evening in the ER with this jolly fellow?

Hospice called the ambulance for me and they were soon at the door. Dennis knew enough to be a little anxious but I reassured him that we were going on this adventure together. He laughed. I like that he laughs at my jokes a lot more these days. “Adventure for you,” he said.

After our short ride in the ambulance we were introduced to our ER crew and gave them the story. You have to understand that after a tube like this comes out something should be done very soon to keep the tract open. The PA attending us knew that but unfortunately he had never encountered this problem yet and didn’t think they even had another gastrostomy tube in the ER. Lucky I had brought the old one along in a zip-lock. That’s what they ended up using.

It wasn’t easy to get it in, but after several attempts and a couple techniques, it was replaced and the balloon inflated. I’m a little worried that there might be a slow leak in it, and we might have another event in the future, but so be it. We were discharged and back in the ambulance for the ride home within three hours. That is amazing for any trip to the ER.

The husband got pretty tired out, but I think he kind of enjoyed the extra attention, meeting new people, new places, all that. Isn’t that what we hope for on “date night”?

Note to self: Get one of those feeding tubes before the next time – I bet they have them on Amazon.

The culprit

Being Contrary: Caregiver’s World

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Today, in my caregiver’s world, things have not gone as expected, but have not gone badly either. For one thing, I did not make my bed and it set the tone for contrariness for the whole day.

Did. Not.

The CNA coming to help with morning chores needed to hurry and be done, and it was unfortunate because I was needing her to stay with Dennis while I went to my study group. I called on my brother and he was able to come but it was a bother to have to come up with another plan. I was able to get to my Bible study group late, but I was there. My phone only disturbed the group twice before I had to leave – early, oh well. I spent some time thinking about why it is so easy to stay home in contrast to the effort required to go someplace.

One of the phone calls led to a new piece of equipment getting delivered today. The hospice nurse thought the husband would benefit from a suction machine and it was added to our little “hospital at home”. I worked with it and we tested it together until he said “don’t do that anymore” (he was being contrary too), after which he called me from another room to suction him again.

The work table is getting crowded but I now have my own little emergency room complete with oxygen and suction.

But while we were doing all this, I started watching a YouTube video that I could not get away from. I was fascinated as I watched this young Asian girl carve a homestead out of the tropical jungle, all by herself. She chopped bamboo, carried rocks from the mountainside, built substantial structures to live in and house her animals, got her gardens growing and even wired the place with electricity from a turbine set in the stream. She was so smart and good at all of it. She pounds nails without bending them or hitting her fingers. Her channel is called Ana Bushcraft, and she was very crafty.

Up on the roof, no ladders or scaffolding – she just climbs
Never bends a nail (on camera, anyway)

I didn’t always know what she was building, but could not stop watching her work. Her patience and willingness to do things the slow way with whatever materials she could find made me wonder if I would be able to work like that. One project at a time, she transformed her part of the jungle. It was nice to lose myself in her world where there were no sick people, no meetings to attend, no technologies or devices to drive her crazy – just a lot of plain, old hard work. (But I also wondered who was behind the camera, out there in the rainy jungle day after day.) It rivaled the other channel we watch – the cooking show from Azerbaijan.

It was probably a little wasteful of my time, but as I said, I was feeling contrary. I should have been making my bed, but it will be a lot quicker to get into tonight. I’ll make it again tomorrow.

Shopping for Supplies: Caregiver’s World

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Not what I thought it was – from http://www.designworksink.com

Yesterday a package came – I was sure it was a sustain pedal for my keyboard. I opened it and found two high class jigsaw puzzles that I wasn’t expecting at all. They came in round containers and I call them high class because they are of frameable art and posters. The pieces are all the same basic shape. I had to try one of them out today and it is hard. I can get kind of forgetful when I’m deep into a puzzle and have to remind myself that I am a caregiver (my patient no longer lets me know when something is needed). I have no clue who sent the puzzles, but thank you. I’m praying a blessing your way…

I pay close attention to the mail these days because that is how much of my shopping for the husband gets done – online and arriving in the mail or by UPS or Fedex. Packages come frequently to keep my little, private hospital supplied. What I’m learning is that I need a purchasing agent.

When I first knew that I was going to have Dennis at home I searched medical supply companies for the items I knew he was using in the nursing home. I could never find it all in one place so I ordered from three or four different companies. I have since become overwhelmingly confused with passwords, promo codes, and “did I really order this?” syndrome. One day a whole case of disposable briefs came when I thought I had cautiously ordered one box to make sure they were the right size. I’m never sure what’s coming anymore, but it’s entertaining that way, and I need entertainment. I pay for the privilege of being surprised.

But my biggest shopping woe has been/is finding the husband’s nutritional formula. He gets everything through a feeding tube. His formula is calculated to supply all his nutritional needs. I found a company that had it, but after three weeks it was out of stock and I had to find another supplier. It’s relatively important not to run out of this stuff so I get pretty nervous when I’m down to only a few bottles. The second company has also started sending me messages about stocking problems.

1 liter bottles of…, well, whatever it is. Probably a week’s supply. Yum. Not.

Yesterday I was down to 1 day’s supply left when two cartons showed up. One had traveled about four different places since starting from Pennsylvania on January 13th. The other had come from Florida and only been traveling for four days. The packing slips didn’t have recognizable order numbers although it is all from the same company. I’m getting so confused. At the end of the day, I know I’ve been charged for two more cases and they are probably out there seeing the world on their way to me. I’m hoping to pray them in. In an emergency I guess he could have what I eat without starving but I don’t know if popcorn would blend up and go down the tube very well.

I have just put the husband back to bed after several hours in the recliner. Getting hoisted up in a sling evidently isn’t the most comfortable ride because he starts doing a little half moan, half song during the process. I think he’s self soothing by distracting himself, but who knows. He doesn’t tell me what he’s feeling and most of his songs have no words. Except the other night, when I was telling him about the cooking show we watch on YouTube. He decided to sing the word Azerbaijan for a while – that’s where the cooking show is from. I took it as proof that he’s listening to me even when pretending not to.

That’s all for today’s look into my caregiver’s world. It gets a little crazy, just sayin’…

Thoughts I Didn’t Plan on Thinking

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Today we are in my brother’s truck having a rare family road trip. It’s a change for me not to be driving. It leaves me free to look out the window at the gray, somewhat foggy fall day. The leaves are turning but the colors are muted and dull. There is still a lot of green out there so maybe we’ll have a better autumn brilliance in a few more days.

We are going to Eau Claire, a small city two hours away, to visit Chippewa Valley Eye Clinic. An ophthalmologist/plastic surgeon has been working on Mom’s right eyelid after removing a small basal cell carcinoma. This is our fourth visit due to complications of the surgery and repair. Mom has been struggling with ointments, painful eyes, poor vision and a sense of being really tired of this whole process. We don’t know what to anticipate today.

We have so many medical options for anything that goes wrong with our bodies these days. And things do go wrong sooner or later – that is a given. There are many decisions to be made because of this, some we make for ourselves and some others make for us. Swirling all around these calls for decision are issues like the value of life, quality of life, the comparison of one life over another, our views of death and suffering and medical accountability. It’s deep water and not fun to navigate.

This week I was sitting in my husband’s hospital room as he slept. In the common room where I could see and hear them, a family was sitting with their youngish looking son who had obviously been in an accident of some kind resulting in brain trauma. Like my husband, he was there for intense rehab and he was showing good improvement. I had a moment of guilt as I compared him to my elderly husband, with numerous comorbidities, struggling to show progress at all who was taking up a valuable bed in the facility. I felt sorry for the doctor who had to decide to move my husband out to a nursing home for rehab, and I understood what she had to consider. Because we’re having trouble finding another suitable place, he is still here at Miller Dwan in that bed.

My husband spends time thinking about what purpose God could have for him that he was allowed to survive this stroke. He is so tired, and to look at him on some days, you might think he was half dead already. I think he looks half dead, which makes me get busy waking him up, shaving the stubble, sitting him up and telling him to open his eyes before the next therapist arrives. I want him to look valuable, hopeful, worthy of the time and effort they are putting into his rehabilitation. He has indicated he wants that and I am his advocate. It’s a job.

I’ve asked him to think about what he would want if he were to have another stroke. Would he want to go through again what he’s experienced the last two months? He said he hadn’t thought about it. How can that be? He has so much time to think. So many things happen to us because we can’t imagine what we might have to decide, but now he knows and doesn’t have to imagine.

Last week there was an article in the local paper by Garrison Kieller of Prairie Home Companion fame. He also had recently been hospitalized and had experienced many feelings my husband recognized, a lot of mention of bodily functions. He had a good laugh when I read the article to him. Helplessness and dependency is not just happening to Dennis Dietz. And at some point, it could easily happen to any one of us.

I’m thinking about my future, although I know there’s no getting “control” over this realm. It seems to help me to do mental role playing around the possibilities, that way I’m not completely surprised by some of what actually happens. My choices play into my future so I try to make good ones (most of the time) but my best choice has been in believing that God is in control, and that he doesn’t plan on wasting any of my experiences. I can accept that hardship is part of life, and that circumstances can be beyond awful at times. Endurance is needed but there is help along the way in many forms. My belief is that the outcome is good, and it is sure. Just sayin’…

Northwoods Journal: July 11, 2022

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My senior assisted living community has gone down by two – a whole 50%. I still have the husband and Mom to help but my uncle and aunt, both in their 90’s, have gone south to live near my uncle’s children.

Me and Mom. Glad I still get to help her. She’s fun.

They lived near a town, about 25 minutes away, out in the country where we had trouble getting cell service. They had neighbors, but I was always worried about them being able to contact someone if they needed help. My aunt was disabled with Parkinson’s, and nearly blind. My uncle was the main caregiver for her and he was getting tired. On top of that there was the difficulty of keeping warm and plowed out during our severe winters. Something had to change, and it did.

My aunt had a crisis on Friday, July 1st, and after a week in the hospital recovering it was obvious that she needed nursing home placement. I was surprised to find out that there were no available beds for her level of care anywhere in our small community. None. But there was a place for her in a care center in the town where my uncle’s daughter lived, and they were willing to accept her. I am in awe of the social workers who helped get this done so quickly that it about took my breath away. I also think it was God’s plan to give my uncle some good time with his daughters after many years of just seeing them for occasional visits.

Caregiving… my aunt and uncle didn’t require my time on any regular basis, but more as a problem solver and go between with their doctors. I helped a little with their legal and financial affairs and often with their tech problems. Cell phones and computers drove my uncle to frustration. So, you would think I would feel free and have lots of extra time now that I don’t have those responsibilities. I guess that’s partly true – but I’m mostly aware of how quickly it all happened and how I miss them. Strange.

And that is one of the strange things about caregiving. It’s often hard, restricting, physically tiring, stressful, and has distasteful elements but it is also rewarding and more meaningful than a lot of other things I might be doing. Although I’ve been a paid caregiver and felt the weight of responsibility for my clients and the importance of being faithful and dependable, being a family caregiver is that and so much more. There are no 8 or 12 hour shifts, seldom a vacation, no weekends off, no differential for nights and no overtime. There are times when it feels like I’m handing over my life to someone else.

But, it is my life, and I know I made intentional choices that determined my present circumstances. Like many other aspects of life, the challenge is in taking what comes to me and making something of it. I must make plans but I must also expect the unexpected and figure out how to respond. I want to respond to situations in ways that won’t make me disappointed in myself at some later date.

In case you haven’t noticed, preaching to myself is one of the ways I’m meeting those challenges. It helps me to remember that God has given me specific skills to use for the good of others, and that he will strengthen me and keep me in the game until I’m no longer needed. Knowing that I am in the right place, at the right time, for a good purpose makes me satisfied and gives joy. What more could I ask?

A to Z Challenge: Z for Zeitgeber

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The last letter of the alphabet! This was an interesting and challenging experience, as always, and I am so grateful for all the connections and comments. Thank you all for reading and encouraging me, and other caregivers.

Zeitgeber

I ran across this interesting word as I was studying a book called “The Paleo Approach” by Dr. Suzanne Ballantyne. Zeit means “time” in German and geber means “giver”. A “time giver” is “anything that influences your circadian clock”. Your circadian clock is all about your body’s routine. And routine is one of the most important tools of caregiving.

Examples of zeitgebers are the light and dark cycle, food intake and activity. Regular times for meals, for exercise and for sleep are beneficial to all of us, but especially for the very young, the elderly and for those with dementia. Being able to depend on a routine gives the impression that things are under control, and having any sense of control is comforting.

Routines

Routine is not the easiest thing for me as a caregiver. I am the queen of spontaneity, and will usually go out of my way to break up a routine. But now, I have things I do pretty regularly. One of the most important reasons I’ve developed routines is because they help me not to forget stuff I would otherwise probably forget. Routines also cut down on decision making because we have already decided what and when. And of importance, the routines help my husband know what to expect at various times of the day.

Circadian Rhythms and Sleep

The light/dark cycle is probably the most important zeitgeber, and the one I have the most trouble with. Being outdoors in sunlight during the day, and in the dark at night greatly affects circadian rhythm, which in turn affects the immune system, mental ability, mood, alertness and energy level. Ideally, the husband and I should get as much light exposure as possible during the day. We both should cut down on our screen time at night as well. Blue light from our computers, phones, TVs, and LED fixtures signals our bodies much like daylight does. It suppresses melatonin production. Blue light not only signals through the retina of our eyes, but even our skin has sensitivity to it. In contrast, low light and darkness signal the production of melatonin and bring on relaxation and sleep.

It is dark outside. Due to my circadian rhythms, I am getting sleepy. Take care of yourselves as we go through these strange times. Good night to all.

_____________________________________________________________

This evening Dennis, my husband, came out where I was sitting and apologized. Not knowing what he was apologizing for, we talked and I discovered he had read the X post. He was saying that he was sorry for making things hard for me. I was surprised that he had not read other posts this month, even though he was aware that I was writing on the subject of caregiving. He was sweet, and humbly aware of the impact that his illness has had on me and on our relationship. It’s moments like this that make me know that he is more than just my patient. He is still very much my husband.

Forty-seven years and counting…

A to Z Challenge: Letter Y for Yelling

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Well, it’s not just about yelling. It’s about communicating. When communication is not easy, and is possibly frustrating, yelling can be involved and it begins with Y. I am an opportunist when I have to be. Most of these problems have to do with diminished hearing, poor eyesight, and diminished attention.

Yelling makes people look mean.

Is there a lot of missed communication going on at my house? Sometimes it feels that way. Here are some common scenarios…

The husband thinks I’m listening to him (he may have seen me close by) and starts talking to me while looking elsewhere. He doesn’t know I’ve left and am two rooms away. When I realize he’s talking away to an empty room, I come back, frustrated and have to ask him to repeat.

In the morning when he comes out for his cup of cocoa and sits in the corner recliner. He doesn’t usually have his hearing aids in yet. I ask him what he wants for breakfast but he doesn’t hear. I raise my voice until he tells me I don’t have to yell. We both feel embarrassed.

In the morning he comes out for his cup of cocoa and he DOES have his hearing aids in. I ask him loudly what he wants for breakfast and he jumps and puts his hands over his ears.

“What?! You didn’t tell me that!” This is often said about something that was being discussed in conversation with a group of family or friends. I can understand that it’s hard to admit (or even know) that you’re not hearing what you can’t hear. It’s easier to fake it and assume that someone will get your attention if it’s important. But, dear hard of hearing person, no one knows you haven’t heard…

If you’re caring for an elder, it’s safe to assume that most everyone who is up there in age has some degree of hearing loss. Okay, I don’t have young ears either.

Hearing in noisy environments or over a phone are other risks to good communication. My uncle, who hears fairly well in face to face conversation, gets a little nervous with phone conversations. He sometimes asks me to join him on calls with his financial advisor, not because I’m a financial genius either. He wants to make sure he is hearing things correctly. And who hasn’t faked it in a noisy restaurant? Nod and smile, that would be me.

To make matters more complicated, people who are hard of hearing often hear their own voice through bone conduction. It sounds very loud, so they talk softly and can barely be heard. The husband does this with the result that he can’t hear me and I can’t hear him either. Somehow, even when I’m not angry, having to yell makes me feel like I’m being mean. I don’t like yelling.

We are getting better at communicating. Here are some things we’ve done to lessen the volume and make sure important things are heard.

1. I try to get the TV volume or other noise, turned down before I speak.

2. I look at the person I’m talking to so I know if they are listening, and if they know I’m talking to them. I try to get my husband to do this as well.

3. I communicate plans for the day, important news, etc… directly when there are no competing voices. I try not to assume something has been picked up from conversations with others.

4. Whenever I see confusion, I ask questions to see if there is a misunderstanding.

5. I often leave a written note.

So, back to yelling. I don’t like it. It doesn’t make for good communication and most of the time, even if I’m not mad or frustrated, it makes me feel like I’m being mean and ineffective as a caregiver. When I’m well rested, in my right mind and remembering my above mentioned tips, the communication is much improved. Just sayin’…

A to Z Challenge: X for Exasperated

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(Ex is how you spell X, so this counts.)

Today I am exasperated. It’s a degree of frustration right before one’s head explodes. It happens fairly often in my caregiving world, particularly with my husband.

It’s not that this never happened before, when he was well. We were a fairly normal couple and we had our ways of getting past the rough times and keeping peace. We were both responsible and expected to act like mentally competent adults. Now, as with any situation where a spouse has a mental deficiency of any kind, doubt enters the picture and roles may change.

Many days I am so conscious of having to watch over our world, unaided, while my husband (my patient, is what it feels like) does what he can do, sits and watches TV or looks at his phone. When he wants to talk to me about his angst over politics or his ideas of how to conquer coronavirus, I want no part of it. I want him to do some meaningful task that would help get chores done. I want him to show concern about finances or make a “to do” list like I have to do most days. It exasperates me to have a live-in patient instead of a husband.

And at the same time I begin to feel very guilty for being angry. I am not the only one missing out on our retirement plans. He is sick and I am well, at least for the moment.

For these reasons, caregiving for a spouse, or a live-in family member is not easy emotionally. It usually starts out being a 24/7, 365 days a week job, until burn out sets in, so it’s not easy physically either. I need support and this is how I get it.

1. I have identified people that I can talk to safely, even when frustrated – ones that are regularly available to me and don’t mind if I vent.

My physically present support group that I could not do without.

2. I have joined a couple online support groups. They understand what it’s like and have encouragement/advice for all situations. They always show me I’m not alone in the way I feel.

  • Facebook group: Lewy Body Dementia Carter’s
  • Facebook group: LBDA Care Partner Support Group

3. I have a place I can go, in the house, to get away to watch a movie or read a book while the husband is occupied or napping. It’s a true multi-function “she room”.

4. I haven’t had to do this, but if needed I would hire help to cook or clean, or just be in the house for a few hours while I escape.

5. I try to spend time with my husband doing something we both can enjoy (like reading a good book) to give attention and alleviate guilt (mine).

6. I give myself grace to not be perfect, but to try again to do a good job and to love well.

A to Z Challenge: Letter W for Washing (Feet)

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You will believe this more as you age, but truth is that something as simple as foot care gets really difficult when you can no longer bend over and get close to your feet. Problem feet should go to a podiatrist, but most elderly people, like my mom and my aunt, can be cared for at home quite easily. I soak their feet for a few minutes in a basin of warm soapy water (and I always hear “oh, that feels so good!”) then gently clean under the nails and clip them. I finish with a foot and lower leg rub with lotion. If you’ve ever had a pedicure, that’s basically what it is, without the polish.

Your person’s feet are pretty important and it is good practice to look at them carefully. The best time is when you are washing them. Look between toes for cracks that indicate fungal infection, which is easily treated. Check heel and ball of each foot for callus buildup and remove some of that dead skin with pumice stone. Toenails that get too long are like having little daggers on the feet. They get caught on pant legs, wear holes in socks and even cause bloody scratches on legs. That’s when I usually get requests for some foot care.

Circulation is often poor in the lower extremities which leaves feet open for pressure sores on the heel and other bony parts. I know what it’s like when I start to get a blister from shoes that rub, or when I stub a toe and rip a nail off. It hurts, but your elderly person may not even feel the pain if they have neuropathy. It is a tragedy when an injury progresses to an infection, or even worse, to gangrene. Good caregiving means catching these problems early (even better, preventing them).

There is a surprisingly spiritual side to taking care of feet, which usually rank low on the list of body parts that get cared for. It’s an act of service to wash and care for another person’s feet, as Jesus did, recorded in the Bible. It’s also kind of hard to let someone do such a common, lowly act for you, which is how Peter felt when Jesus did it for him. Maybe it’s just me, but I can’t help but think of that when I’m helping someone in that way.

Another benefit I’ve noticed, as I sit on the floor with someone’s foot in my lap (I do it that way but you can be a bit more professional if you want). My people talk to me. There’s something that happens with caring touch that makes others feel safe, and open. Maybe it’s just because they know I’m an audience that won’t be jumping up and running away any time soon. Talking is therapy. It is good and requires nothing but that I listen.

Caregiving for other’s feet has made me aware of how important my own feet are to me. I have to take care of them if I want to be mobile. Yours are important to you, so take some time and give them some care, caregiver.

These are actually my feet and I am proud to have all my toenails grown back after losing some of them on last year’s Grand Canyon hike. It takes a long time!

A to Z Challenge: Letter V for Vagus Nerve

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I wrote many of my A to Z posts back in March when coronovirus topics were just ramping up. Since then I have begun to weary of anything virus related, and so for my own comfort I am trashing my previous topic “Virus” and opting instead for something I care more about “Vagus nerve”. How odd, you may think, but I am okay with you thinking that.

This has nothing to do with my post. I had a hard time finding pictures of the vagus nerve so instead you’re seeing this favorite barn picture that I’ve wanted to post for a long time. Like it? (It’s so wonderful to have my own blog where I can do whatever I want. )

Caregiving for people with dementia is one of the hardest and most frustrating roles. It is only going to involve more people as time goes on. Here is your daily dose of statistics:

– 5% of people over 65 have dementia

– 20% of people over 80 have dementia

– 60% of those having dementia have Alzheimer’s

– 20% of those with dementia have Lewy Body Dementia

So you can see that a sizeable number of people are going to be affected both as victims of dementia and as caregivers. It’s pretty important that general knowledge about these conditions increases and that is part of my aim in sharing my caregiving life.

Research is bringing much to light about how dementia develops, its causes, and its treatment. I am amazed in particular at the early signs and symptoms that are often not recognized as such. How much could be avoided if we knew early on what our bodies were trying to tell us.

So, what about the vagus nerve, you are probably wondering? This summary article (click here) gives a good overview of this most important nerve in our bodies. It’s divided into right and left to serve different sides of the body, but spoken of as one. It is the longest nerve in the autonomic nervous system and the major parasympathetic influencer. It regulates heart rate, blood pressure, sweating, digestion, and even the mechanism of speaking. That’s a lot of essential stuff. It is the 10th cranial nerve. It starts up there where all the dementia problems start.

If there were definitive tests for dementia, ones that could detect it early, before it had devastated cognitive areas of the brain, how great would that be? We would be more concerned about chronic constipation, hard to control blood pressure, low heart rates in non athletic persons and other symptoms that get tossed into the “old age” bucket and treated with a pill.

The husband had all these problems years before his cognitive symptoms, the ones that got his attention, began. I remember the many blood pressure medications that he went through, and the multiple times he would react to them in extreme ways. He would have drops in pressure that would leave him dizzy and weak, and spikes that would alarm us. This continues now and is one of the fluctuations I’ve come to expect from LBD.

And I don’t know what his heart rate does to him but I know that having 50 or less beats per minute would make me feel strange. He tires so easily and complains of dizziness on a regular basis.

I’m not into writing about other people’s digestion or bowel habits but don’t we all know what problems can arise in these areas?!! Think honestly. There’s also the difficulty that dementia victims have in swallowing and speaking that results from impairment of the vagus nerve. There are days when my husband knows that it feels hard to swallow and he needs to be extra cautious about what he eats and how fast he eats it. I notice his weak voice and how some days it will be unexplainably stronger, making him sound like his old, normal self again.

Research is showing that up there in the brain where it all gets important is where we find protein deposits, call them plaque, Lewy bodies, or whatever. The vagus nerve is commonly affected and is responsible for many early signs.

What I say to myself about all this, and what I say to readers is that you can change what is happening in your body by lifestyle changes – simple things that take will power and determination but cost little and mean a lot over time. We cannot rely on pharmaceuticals to come up with remedies because it is not in their business interests, and they are businesses. We are people and we must investigate and do what is in our own best interest, whenever we can. We are the guardians of our own bodies. When we choose stress, poor diet, lack of sleep, and a multitude of other poor choices, we get the bad things that come with those choices. It can be sad.

Aren’t you glad I didn’t write about ventilators?