Catch a turd.

Sweetie, the flag holder.

Is there such a thing as a normal day? With normal people, on a normal day, there is the ritual of raising in the morning, doing what is done during the day, then retiring at night. There is conversation, mutual interest to talk about. Point of contention may enter sometime during that time. Nothing that will be earth shattering. Just the normal stuff.

With Dementia, there isn't anything normal accept the "Abbie" normal way of getting the day done. It may start off like we did yesterday, The Abbie way. 

I had gotten Sweetie up and was changing her pullups, when I got to play "Catch the Turd". I had her pullups down and could see the evidence of a bowel movement, what I couldn't see was the turd getting ready to fall from her butt. I saw it just in time to catch it in mid air. Tis better to wash my hands, then to try and clean up a splatter. This was also a great opportunity for a butt shower. 

I can remember those days not too long ago, when I would sit with Sweetie, as she sat on the toilet and she was able to take care of business. Those days are long gone now. I have to be happy with what we do now, not what we used to do.  

It may seem funny, yet as Sweetie continues down that road to Dementia Town, and her ability to talk, eat, and walk slowly disappear from her daily life, I adjust myself to her. I just find myself helping her more and more. Speaking in a soft, tiny voice as not to scare her. Helping her live each and everyday. 

There is something wrong with her shoulder. When I undress her and take her shirt off, she complains and rubs it. If I ask, she denies anything. I've read how people with Dementia do not understand pain, so I have to understand body language. I've been putting Aspercream on her arm, in an attempt to help her. It only hurts when she raises her arms above her head. We have a doctor's appointment and will discuss it with her. 

As you can imagine, Driver can snicker in delight at some of the things we talk about. He giggled at the term "catch a turd." Gross as it seems, yet, what a funny image it plays in the mind. All the time, He understands that what I do for the least of these, I am blessed. And that includes my catching abilities. Humbly I ask, and with humility I receive. It is through His Grace that I get up to my new normal every morning, knowing that He is there with me, driving us down the Road to Dementia Town. Keeping our Shiny Side Up. C'ya, Luv ya, and God Bless.