March 20, 2019

Lunch with Jane:

Traffic was BAD for no valid reason today & I was late. I mean seriously – why close down 2 of the 3 lanes before you even think about doing work?!?! Road construction – definitely not the most well though out.

Emely was feeding Jane lunch when I arrived, so I took over midway. Jane was quiet & un-engaged. It’s like she wasn’t even there. She opened her mouth for me to put food it in, but it’s like she was Pavlov’s dog – just reacting out of the way she was trained. I don’t think she even enjoyed her cupcake, despite the fact I brought her favorite – lemon.

Jane is leaning towards her right again like she tends to do after an episode & she seemed unable to sit upright in her chair. She was sitting like she was sliding out of her chair – think how kids sit when they are being lazy & don’t want to sit upright. It was challenging for me to get her to bend her knees so I could put her feet on the footrests of her wheelchair when we headed out for our walk. I had to physically bend her leg for her – normally if I lift her foot up, she will bend her leg for me & help me place her foot on the footrests. It’s like the connections were misfiring.

It’s a beautiful day outside today so Jane & I made a lap before sitting under the trees. Judy (who helped my dad & I when we needed to get Jane moved to a new facility pronto & is in charge of admissions) was sitting outside with one of the residents chatting so we stopped to say hello. Jane did not engage at all. Didn’t seem to even notice we had stopped or that I was talking to someone else. Normally this irritates her. I didn’t chat too long & headed off to the trees with my stepmom. Once I got her situated & sat down in front of her, she seemed to have a moment of clarity. She looked into my eyes & smiled. But it was just a fleeting moment & quickly Jane was gone again.

I talked to my stepmom about running & shared my exciting news of getting into the Marine Corps Marathon. No reaction. Though it was clear she was listening to me. A couple of times she would babble a bit, but it felt like the disease was in control today. Jane seemed agitated & unable to get comfortable. She kept crossing one leg & then the other & she kept grabbing for my foot. She would pull my foot up onto her lap & hold it until I told her it was uncomfortable (because she always grabs my foot in a weird angle). She does this sometimes when we sit, though I’ve never understood why. Does this make her feel closer or more connected? Sometimes when I visit my stepmom, her face looks peaceful. Today was not one of those days. She seemed to express distress, but when I would ask her what’s wrong she couldn’t ever tell me – not with words or intuitively. Maybe she felt trapped by the disease today?

I wheeled Jane back to her house after our visit. Emely helped me & was going to change Jane before settling her into the recliner. So I left Jane in Emely’s care, kissing her goodbye & telling her I’d see her soon. Though truthfully, I wouldn’t mind if I didn’t see her again – if she gave up her battle before our next visit. I know it’s her journey & she will leave this world when she is ready, but man do I hate watching her suffer. Don’t get me wrong – I will keep showing up for her as long as she is still breathing – but I always give her permission to stop fighting when she is ready. I always tell her I love her & that we all will be ok once she is gone.

When I walked into the clubhouse on my way out, Pepper was visiting. She is a sweet, very intelligent, support dog. She was sitting on one of the resident’s laps & he was loving the attention. Pepper seemed to know I needed cheering up, so she reached out for me to pet her. I talked to her mom for a few minutes. Pepper is a trained therapy dog who comes to visit the facility 4 days a week. She was a rescue dog, so you know she holds a special place in my heart. I love how intuitive Pepper is to those around her. I didn’t have Jane with me today when I saw Pepper, but I have many times before. Some days Jane wants to see Pepper & others she doesn’t. It’s amazing to me how Pepper always seems to know. And today she knew I was the one needing comforting.

I hate this disease.