Living in the moment – and I mean, the moment!

 

 

 

As Marnus Labuschange reached 50 on the first day of the Boxing Day Test we all acknowledged his achievement.

“Where’s he from?” asked Marshall, sitting beside me in the Ponsford Stand.

“South Africa.”

Not long later, when the cricketing star was bowled on 63, I was asked the same question.

“South Africa,” I replied.

With so much talk of Marnus these days, his name seems to trigger an immediate response in Marshall’s brain. “Where’s he from?” has been a constant this past month or so. My reply has also been a constant, sometimes calm and collectedly, sometimes with a hint of loudness and emphasis.

This time last year I wrote a piece https://www.footyalmanac.com.au/its-far-from-funny-but-sometimes-you-just-have-to-laugh/ highlighting the effects of early dementia. Little did I know then just how quickly this devastating illness can progress. And little did I know then just how it can affect those closest to the person whose brain (or a part of it) is literally disintegrating.

We were “warned” about 18 months ago, when the diagnosis of Vascular Dementia was established, that things would get worse. We shrugged off the standard medical response and set about doing what we hoped would allay the brain’s anticipated deterioration.

Daily online brain memory exercises, crosswords, learning a musical instrument, learning a new language, and trying to physically exercise more to get the blood flowing to the brain were all part of the routine. (He had to be reminded each time, mind you).

We were also “warned” that a major change in his life would be difficult, and if we were considering moving from Sydney to Melbourne, we’d better do it soon, before things got too much worse.

So, off we set. Left Sydney and arrived in Melbourne in time for the 2019 footy season. Despite being unwell myself, we made the most of the year. Bought a new house, arranged renovations, went to the footy, interstate and in Melbourne, and I worked three days a week. We kept busy (or I did).

But, all the while, the dementia got worse. The brain memory exercises ceased, the musical instrument lay untouched, the new language was nowhere to be seen and the physical exercising became too much.

The repeated questions “Where is it?” would be asked every few minutes; “How do I get there?”, when attempting to walk one block, would, despite a note in his hand, end up in a phone call “Where am I, and where am I going?”; at the end of a TV program or film “Is that it?” has become all too common – not remembering what had taken place a minute earlier, meant the ending didn’t make sense; needing reassurance when on a tram with me, “Do you know where you’re going?”, was always accompanied with “What stop number do we get off?”

There have been many more repeated questions but, more alarming perhaps, is that the memory loss is changing from short–term to longer–term.

I was completely thrown recently when talking of our apartment in Surry Hills in Sydney, where we lived for 11 years, and only left nine months ago, was met with “Surry Hills?” Even looking at images on the computer, the response was “Well, not really!”

Oh dear!

As anyone who has lived with a person with dementia knows, memory is not the only problem. Cognitive impairment in the form of concentration, learning and understanding new things, and making any sort of new decision, is also paramount. And, so it seems, is a sense of uninhibitedness.

We were also “warned” that unusual behaviour can take place, especially when having access to computers and online websites and emails.

Well, that was Marshall’s life – computers. He was a computer scientist, lectured at Uni, and wrote Artificial Intelligence programs. And after his retirement, he volunteered to teach and help people in aged care facilities with their computers.

Not now. Instead, the unusual and uninhibited behaviour has thrown a whole new dimension our way. Joining websites (despite a big red note on his computer saying DO NOT JOIN ANY WEBSITES) has become a problem. (Thank god he now has no credit card!) And it’s not just “joining any old website”, they are ones he would never in a million years had ever thought of joining before!

Challenges are being thrown our way on a daily basis.

And as for me, his partner and carer, I have a major role to play. Despite adjustments I’ve had to make, I am constantly telling myself that I must change. I must stop getting so frustrated. I must stop raising my voice just about every time I’m asked the same question five times in five minutes. I must be kind and loving in my responses, and I must try and put the boot on the other foot, and imagine if I were him – how would I like it if he was so intolerant of me?

I am also reminded that on the occasions I have completely lost it, screaming loudly and angrily (once I even told him to ‘fuck off!’ – first time, ever) he had absolutely no recollection of it happening a few hours later when I apologised profusely!

Nevertheless, I am the only one who can change my own reactions. I must change, for both our sakes.

All in all, my beloved is not the person I once knew. Forty–seven years of being able to share has now become a distant memory. Sharing has taken on a new meaning.

And, as for living in the moment, that is just what Marshall seems to be doing. He smiles most of the time, shows no anger, and doesn’t seem to worry about his dementia.

Maybe living in the moment is not such a bad thing after all!

 

The Tigers Almanac 2019 is out NOW.
Order copies HERE.

 

Our writers are independent contributors. The opinions expressed in their articles are their own. They are not the views, nor do they reflect the views, of Malarkey Publications.

 

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