Cath Sheard Art

Tag: Tony

  • Keeping it brief

    Brief because, unusually for me, I haven’t got a lot to say (sort of).

    Sandra – my best friend of 53 years – spent Friday & Saturday nights with us. Bruno, her wee rescue dog, glued himself to Tony. She got out & about, taking incredible photos for her travel blog. The ones she took of the wreck at Patea beach are incredible, it’s the most exposed we ever remember seeing it.

    This afternoon I went to a work friend’s baby shower, which was way more fun that I had imagined. Tony’s brother Roger came round for dinner and got here about 15 minutes before me – and 20 minutes after Tony had a decent fall. He was heading to the kitchen on his walker and got super dizzy, tried to grab the doorway and missed. The walker went forward and he went backward, fortunately landing on his bum rather than hitting his head on the wall. He’s ok but stiffening up and I suspect there’s going to be a great bruise.

    He had a very rough day, again, with his tummy on Thursday and that evening we had a brief chat about the fact one day he will need rest home level care. Tonight he and I have talked about how he’s getting dizzy more and more often, and that I worry about his safety when I’m not here. He has a medic alarm but his memory is not always great and this afternoon he didn’t think to use it. We’re talking about the merits of Te Mahana, where he might know people, versus Hawera where I could pop in during my lunch break and after work – or be there in 5 minutes if they needed me.

    The time isn’t yet, but it’s approaching – maybe quite fast. Like almost everything, we’re talking about it, planning ahead and having the difficult conversations.

  • Left foot, right foot

    The only way forward is one foot in front of the other – left foot, right foot, hayfoot, strawfoot. That’s Tony and I at the moment, just putting one foot in front of the other.

    I’m healing okay but have to be careful; if I do too much or eat the wrong thing, it hurts under my ribs, which – in a medical sense – is a million miles away from the actual injury. No wonder I got so sick without us figuring out the problem!

    In the last week or so, with Hospice’s advice/support, we’ve made a change in how we view feeding Tony. Until now, my default has been to make him a “proper” meal unless he doesn’t want it – which he normally doesn’t – in which case he’d have something like yoghurt or baked custard and stewed apples. Now my default is custard etc unless he wants a proper meal, and he doesn’t. They also suggested “baby veges” so we’re trying him on mashed potato, pumpkin, carrot & parsnip. So far, so good and it doesn’t seem to give him unpleasant hiccups like other food had started to do.

    Nutritionally it’s not ideal of course, but he has two chocolate Fortisip a day which is sufficient calories etc to be going on with, given he doesn’t do much now. Most days he does a little on his latest project (he’s finished a model truck and is onto a paint by numbers Yoda) and dozes while listening to music. He’s often in bed by 8.30 or so because he’s tired out.

    He’s dizzy a lot of the time now, so Mum’s walker is back in use and Goldie is delighted. She sits on it and seems to feel quite at home – bless her ancient creaky wee soul!

    We’re grateful for his carers who come in twice a day, Hospice staff who ease the load, family and friends who check on him, and my work who are always supportive.

  • Making progress

    It’s now 3 weeks since my surgery and I’m healing well (mainly lol). I went for blood tests Tuesday then saw the Dr Wednesday. He wasn’t totally thrilled and sent me to A&E so they could re-x-ray my tummy to check for leaks, and redo the bloods. Dr Georgina and I had a long chat after the x-rays checked out ok, and decided I just wasn’t resting enough. It’s hard to rest with Tony so sick, but I’m working on it 😉

    Speaking of work, tomorrow I am returning to work but only doing half days from home. I’m looking forward to it. I love my job, and miss my colleagues and staff. But I also know my brain is still a bit fuzzy and I tire easily, so will make sure I work to my own pace. This week I just need to clear a bazillion emails and do the quarterly financial reports.

    Today Sandra came up from Whanganui and took Tony to Hawera. They went to Bunnings so he could buy Tulip bulbs then had lunch at Upside Down Cafe. I’m so grateful to her for taking him out, at his pace. They’ve always been good mates and getting out of the house is good for him. He’s worn out and has pretty much been asleep ever since, except for dinner of Instant Pudding and tinned peaches!

    We’re fortunate to have people helping us in a variety of ways, and I’m grateful for the love and support we receive.

  • The value of art time

    Some weekends, aside from cooking meals & basic things like washing etc, I spend both days at my art desk. This is one of those weekends. Tony is in more pain and sleepy so he’s sitting in the lazyboy, napping, while I play with my art supplies. Art is good for me – the movement of my hands, the meditative sense of slowed-down time when fussy cutting out images, and the chance to get my thoughts & feelings out of my head and into my art journals.

    I’ve been working in my large Dina Wakley journal, and the large Dylusions journals. I’ve really enjoyed playing with Steampunk images for a change.

  • Some weeks are BIG

    Some weeks are pretty ordinary, others are a bit more full on – last week was BIG. We had an appointment with the respiratory specialist on Tuesday. We were also seeing the Hospice Dr for advice about how much Tony sleeps sometimes and how incredibly drowsy he can be (sometimes he falls asleep while I’m talking to him and I don’t think I’m *that* boring!), and a wound specialist about his foot ulcer. Tuesday morning I phoned Breeda for additional advice about some stuff and she said to go in straight away, which we did.

    I won’t bother going into the details but Tony was very sick; they decided straight away a night as an inpatient was needed to get things sorted. They suggested I stay, as he was having trouble answering questions, so I camped out on a sofa bed in his room. We had packed his hospital bag, but nothing for me, so I had to do an emergency run to The Warehouse. This weekend I’m packing an overnight bag for me for whenever we go to A&E or Hospice, just in case.

    They changed him from Morphine to OxyContin because, although still an opioid, it has different side effects & will hopefully suit better. He’s certainly having less hallucinations, and the ones he does have are much less vivid. So far, he hasn’t been as drowsy either, except when he’s had a decent dose of OxyC. They also dropped the dose of some other meds, as the muscles in his thighs were getting weak and it seems to have helped.

    On Wednesday they felt things were improving but suggested a second night and, somewhat reluctantly, he agreed after I pointed out that him insisting on going home puts a lot more pressure and responsibility on me rather than the experts. Good point! Wednesday evening was very rough, but he woke Thursday looking and sounding so much better. One of the nurses commented that she’d had no point of reference because he was so sick when we got there, and it was nice to meet the real Tony.

    We headed home midday Thursday and, while things are not great, they’re a lot better. At their suggestion, I rang the DHB and from next week Tony will have a caregiver for 30 min every weekday lunchtimes to check on him, as well as the morning one.

    He’s had some high pain times already and I’ve had to ring Hospice a few times for advice; I appreciate how supportive they are. I’ve got to ring tomorrow and speak to the Doctor because the nurses think the long-acting OxyC needs increasing so he gets less breakthrough pain. As always, I’m thankful to family and friends, and my Twitter pocket friends, for their support and love – this would be an even shittier journey without them.

    We loved that the beds have beautiful quilts, and it all feels quite homely.
    This is the semi-private courtyard outside Tony’s room at Hospice