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Tonight's picture was taken in October of 2006. Mattie was four years old. That year, we made his calico cat costume together. He was so excited with this creation. I remember we went to Target and bought a black sweat suit and then we went to AC Moore and bought felt for the cat's patches. Mattie loved the whole process. Unfortunately that year he never wore his costume on Halloween and didn't go trick or treating. Instead, he landed up in the hospital for days with and ear infection that turned to sepsis. Mind you I brought Mattie to the pediatrician two days before hospitalization and I told her I thought he had an ear infection. She did not take me seriously and labeled me as a neurotic parent. But in the end, I was right, and when she visited us in the hospital, she actually apologized to me! Fortunately the costume was large in size, so Mattie got to wear it in 2007, and it fit perfectly that year!
Quote of the day: Tears have a wisdom all their own. They come when a person has relaxed enough to let go and to work through his sorrow. They are the natural bleeding of an emotional wound, carrying the poison out of the system. Here lies the road to recovery. ~ F. Alexander Magoun
Tonight's quote captured my attention. For the most part, I don't cry. I can tear up, but full blown crying isn't my thing. Or let's put it this way, it hasn't been my outlet since Mattie was diagnosed with cancer. It was like a switch flipped in my brain, and now my brain and body are programmed for stress, anxiety, and to remain emotionally strong. Now all that said, the quote is 100% correct, I can manage in this stoic state for just so long. When things calm down in my life (if that ever actually happens!), and I begin to relax, then all hell breaks lose for me. It is at that point that I will be an emotional puddle. In fact, for me it is a lot easier to stay in the state where the emotional barriers are up, because in that state, I can get the things that need to happen in my house accomplished.
This morning, while having breakfast, I sat with my dad and generated six questions for him to ask the server we see every Saturday! If I don't help him with questions, then he asks this woman the same two questions OVER and OVER during the meal! So I wrote down questions in his notebook. About 40 minutes after we had breakfast, his physical therapist came over for a session. While she was there, I left the house. I did some chores, but it was nice to have this time and space alone.
Fast forward to the restaurant. While seated, I asked my dad to take out his notebook so he could look at the questions he wanted to ask Dawn. When he opened to today's page, don't you know it.... he had the questions answered already! I was perplexed, how did that happen? So I asked him, whether he answered them as if he were Dawn. He had no idea. I looked at the responses to the questions and what I deduced was he had asked his physical therapist the questions meant for Dawn. It's hysterical! Mind you my dad has NO MEMORY that he asked his therapist the questions and he also couldn't separate answers today given to him by Dawn versus those given to him by the physical therapist. In essence he can't manage multiple forms of information at one time. It was fascinating to me to see his profound level of confusion, which gives me further insight into his Alzheimer's.
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