June 29, 2020
I've been trying to catch my husband awake, going to the facility to see him at all different times of day. Today, I decided to go later in the afternoon. He woke up for me! Yay! I gave him a facial, massaged his feet, fed him his dinner, played music for him.
Our son happened to call me while I was there, so I put him on speaker phone right next to my husband's ear. The Hubster seemed to respond to that for about five seconds and even sort of smiled. It was very heartwarming, another memory to tuck away.
After dinner, the caregivers came in and repositioned my husband, as I had mentioned that he seemed rather uncomfortable. When they left the room, I grabbed my ukulele and sat in the chair next to his bed. He went right to sleep as I played some soft, slow chords for him. He generally falls asleep after eating, so I don't think it was entirely to escape my playing.
As I was leaving, one of the caregivers thanked me for the beautiful music. What? I thought I was playing and singing super softly; but, apparently, I could be heard in the dining area, and a couple of the residents were really enjoying it. Golly. It made me feel so good to think I might have brought them a little joy.
I'm reminded that the other day, the wife of one of the residents was visiting him through the window, and she saw me arrive with my music case. She gave me a big smile, telling me her husband had told her about me and looked forward to listening to my playing. She asked me to make sure he could hear me. I took her request with a grain of salt and assumed she was confusing me with the music therapist. But I guess she must have known what she was talking about, since it turns out he's one of the ones who was in the dining area listening to the tunes today. Who knew?!
Music is a wonderful thing! One of the janitors at my Mom's facility plays guitar and sings - my Mom lights up even if he is just walking by - on some level she connects him with his music.
ReplyDeleteI've read that music engages all parts of the brain, so it's one of the last things a person "loses" (and we don't know whether or not it's lost, do we, since they can't tell us). Bless that janitor! Thank you for sharing this. You made my day!
DeleteI believe that music is also one of the last enjoyments that this vile disease robs from the mind. Maybe it's a long repressed memory of a mothers gentle soothing songs to her child, or even an awakening of memories of those evenings spent dancing with a loving partner or even just sitting listening to the music snuggled up together in a darkened room just their lover and them. We had a good family friend who suffered from this horrid punishing illness (even though often I'm convinced it's the families and spouses that are doing the majority of the suffering because it seems the ones with the disease are often in a blissful state of their own internal world)
ReplyDeleteBUT getting back to our friend, he had the illness for decades and it's odd what things that are never totally forgotten and when memories will pop up. Terry lived to his 90th year and even if his own family members were just other people who would be there to visit he remembered and would often remind staff and anyone within earshot that Rosco Streetman (my dad) was his best friend.
And he was always whistling and could often be able to put enough notes together in the proper order to make a recognizable tune. He was in his chair in a common area enjoying the sunshine and whistling a tune when the staff noticed he had stopped and was comfortably rest with his head down so an attendant decided to move him to his room to rest better with some privacy and when he went to move him he had passed quietly away while enjoying a tune and sitting in the sun with what had become (even though he didn't remember them past the moment) his friends. Myself if I can pick a way to pass from this plane to the next that would be one of the easiest ways to go, no apprehension or fear of what was coming, or happening and apparentlywith no worries about leaving loved ones behind.
One of the things I have been thinking about and wanted to say to you was that early in the onset of his illness you had made a statement something about the fact he didn't seem to worry about the oncoming problems but at one time had expressed he didn't want to die and that was what he seemed upset about and you comforted him by telling that wasn't anything to worry about that it was in the distant future and he didn't need to worry about it. In the End of Life blog you said that even when staff and you had his needs under control and were trying to get him resettled since he had become agitated and was in apparent pain and anxiety and looked at you and said "I'm scared" I had the thought/feeling that in his own mind and the feelings of pain and suffering he was experiencing that his memory of the day he had expressed his fear of dying to you that he felt that before his recovery and return that he was worried that he was slipping away from you and, his world and was trying to convey that feeling and thoughts to you. And at that point in his world his memories of your care and love had been what he searched for when he needed comforting. I hope I wasn't off base and like I said it was something that took a lot of thought about because I didn't want you to feel I was being crass or uncaring. But if it comes out again you might be more able to convey comforting and that he need not worry, you are and always will be at his side and would make sure he was comfortable and needed to just relax and be there with you just as you would always be.
I hope this helps in some way and I haven't rambled on too much, or heaven forbid made you upset by my thoughts, hang in there and remember that there WILL be a light at the end of this tunnel, even though only one of you may see or experience it. Bless you for having the patience and belief of Job and the musical heart to bring smiles and happiness to others. Even though you don't know about it.🎵🎸🎶 Del and Linda Streetman.