Pupil

Okay, a disclaimer first.

Some of you will think I am nuts (I'm not) and some of you will just say it's her imagination. Or perhaps, it's what she wants to be true. And some of you will relate.

Either way, this is my story.

The first few nights after Dennis died, I was so exhausted that I slept 12 hours easily. Some nights I would take the Klonopin that had been prescribed for me, other nights I tried to sleep naturally. This past week or so (tomorrow it will be 3 weeks) I have been waking up in the middle of the night, more or less wide awake. Since I am sorta retired, this isn't a huge problem, but I would like to get back to a normal schedule.

Two nights ago, I woke again at 3 AM. I played some games on my IPad to get myself out of my head. Soon, I was relaxed again, and closed my eyes to sleep.

When I closed my eyes, I saw an all white background under my lids. At first I attributed this to playing with a backlit toy, but it was different. It was soft like cotton balls or a ball of really fine cashmere. I just let it happen and in a few seconds an iris appeared in the middle of this white. It was obviously the pupil of an eye, and it was only a pupil. And it was looking at me directly into my own iris.

It wasn't there long. But it was Dennis' eye. I would know his eyes anywhere, any day, any time.

The next morning I woke up with a smile on my face.

Can't Sleep

I cannot sleep.

I have been sedating myself with a mild (very mild) narcotic that my doctor prescribed quite a while back. I take a low dose when I retire, and another half if I wake in the middle of the morning - usually around 3:00

I tried it again tonight, but my body wasn't going to relax. And then I remembered that I am retired and I do not have to get up in the morning at any special hour. Well, sorta retired, and there were no schools on my agenda for today.

So I got up.

But what does a person with no motivation do at 3 AM? Now it's 5 AM and I am still unmotivated.

I was crying last night. I received a email from Dennis' sister, Donna, right before I went to bed. She sounds dragged down, too. I tried to answer the email, but I got bogged down in tears and sentiment, and I didn't think she needed that from me.

Then I looked at the calendar and noticed I wasn't returning from the UK until the day before taxes are due. I suppose that was on my mind. I still haven't made it through all the papers in Dennis' room and now I know that I need to finish that. I don't need trouble with the IRS.

I have also been thinking about how I can support MSA Awareness Month in March. Oh, I had big plans of making a video, but then I was overwhelmed by how many computers we have that are loaded with pictures, and how would I put them all together. Even with help from a friend, Angelika, in Germany, it seemed way to over-whelming.

I have had enough over-whelming in my life the last few years. I need to do what pleases me for a while. If that means getting up in the middle of the morning and writing in my blog, then that is what I will do.

But, still, I can't avoid the IRS. On the agenda for the weekend.

Ann

Punishment Light

A while back Netflix began to stream through Wii. Since I wasn't using the Wii for exercise, as was planned, I signed up for 1 disk at a time, plus free streaming.

Weeds, seasons 1-4 were available. I had heard it was very funny and watched a few seasons, until it got a bit crazy, as all sitcoms eventually do.

There was an episode where the main character sits at an intersection she calls the Punishment Light. She is extremely stressed out by life and this damn light is always red, even when there is no traffic. She has a minor break-down while she waits for the light to change.

I live near one of those intersections. There are stop signs, then two sets of lights, a turn and another set of lights and then the great Minnesota invention - the "entering the freeway" lights. When I worked, I needed to take this route every morning. I remember timing it, and the longest was 10 minutes before actually getting on the highway. Now I am talking about a 1 mile ride here. One mile in 10 minutes.

When I was under stress, I would run red lights, swear, beat on the steering wheel, etc. I don't like waiting or being late.

Today I hit the same long wait, and I was a little behind for a school visit. But I noticed that without the stress of working full-time and caring for Dennis full time, I was able to take the 10 minutes of punishment much easier. I only thought about swearing. I stopped at red lights. I didn't take it out on my car. I took it with so much more grace.

Now, if I could only figure out why I deserve being punished by that light.

Spirit of Dennis

I was cleaning out a drawer in Dennis' desk today when my phone rang. It was the UPS dude with a package for me. As I walked down the steps all I could think of was, "what did he order?" He was always ordering something online.

As I signed for this rather large, but light weight package, I noticed it said the word lamp on the label. Dennis had many fixations - watches, lamps, night-lights - to name a few, but he usually would consult with me when it came to decorative items.

And this is what arrived:

It was Dennis' family in Massachusetts. There is a company called Memory Lane Lamps out east. As it says on the card, "the warmth and comfort of the lamp provides a lasting memory of a loved one..."

And the note that Donna and Louie and Carolyn, Katie and Daniel added, said:

"each time you use this lamp, may Dennis' love, spirit and light continue to shine."

I have been seeking Dennis spirit for the past week and a half now. So I put this by our bed so I could light it the first thing in the morning and the last thing at night.

Thank you, Donna, et. al.

Love you! Ann

Goodbye Durable Medical Equipment

There are so many ways I want to remember Dennis. And there are somethings about his last months that I do not want to be left around as reminders. So last week I donated the electric wheel chair, the manual wheel chair, the walker and the hoyer lift to Jerry's kids - the MDS.

When the call came that the driver was on the way, I lined up all of the equipment to make it easier on all of us - the driver, me and the cat. A few minutes later they were out of our lives - the equipment and the driver.

I never minded the manual wheel chair or the walker. They were a daily part of Dennis. But the electric wheel chair frightened the heck out of me when Dennis was at the helm. He drove himself into his computer desk, the dining room table and me. I should mention he only used it a dozen, or less, times.

And the Hoyer. Yes, we did need to use it once, when Dennis fell out of bed. But other than that, it just took up room in a condo that has little room to spare. And Dennis hated it, really hated it. I think it made him feel that he was really, really limited - and he did not like that one bit.

Days are getting better. I have a full schedule starting Friday. Well, a full schedule may be a bit misleading. I have one school or meeting scheduled each day for 3 weeks. For someone who has been sitting around and watching movies for 10 days, that is a big leap. But it is a leap.

For now,
Ann

Better Days

Yesterday was a much better day. Raquel, Dennis PCA that has been with us for over three years came over to help me package up and toss medical supplies.

But really we just chatted, watched a few TV shoes that we got ourselves hooked on over the past 6 months, and shared Dennis stories.

Raquel is really the only other person that has seen the day to day regression of Dennis' body and his ability to care for himself. She has seen what I have seen, done what I have done, and loved the same man I did. She is like family to me. I know she loves me, too, just as she did Dennis.

So, it was better, and Raquel is one reason for a better day.

Onward and forward,
Ann

Sundays

I woke up this morning confused. I had been dreaming about houses and people, and wasn't quite sure where I was for a moment. Then I looked for Dennis, like I have every morning and realized I was at home, in our bedroom. Only it isn't our bedroom anymore, it's mine. And it's lonely.

I finally got out of bed and almost immediately started crying. I didn't have the energy to make my coffee. I picked up my phone and my sister had called. So I called her back.

And I cried again. I was distracted for a while while she told me about Ralph's diagnosis of diverticulitis and then I started crying again.

Then my nephew, Hamed, called. Yesterday I had asked if I could come over and watch football with him and his friends - looking for a distraction - some positive energy. But now I couldn't face leaving the house. He tried to talk with me, but I couldn't stop crying.

I had planned on going to a birthday bash for January girlfriends, but I had to cancel that, too. Who needs a birthday party with a crying widow?

I blamed it on the fact that I had picked up Dennis' ashes yesterday. I blamed it on being only a week since Dennis had died.

Finally I streamed a movie from Netflix and found my crying subsiding some. When the movie was finished, I started a new one, but there had just been a few too many minutes of being inside my head, and I started crying, hard once again.

Suddenly it occurred to me that it was Sunday. Sunday was the one day that Dennis and I were always alone, together. Oh, for a while last year we had my mom on Sundays, but for most of the 10 years that we were together, we were alone on Sundays, together.

And today I am alone on Sunday with just me (and kitty).

Ann