I see him shutting down

My friend appears to be shutting down. Maybe Carl’s tired. Maybe it’s a temporary thing. Perhaps it will get better. I hope so.

A terrifying irony here is that Carl doesn’t have whatever cognitive or focus horsepower it takes to concentrate on, or to enjoy, a book – but … I think he’s bored. And I have no way of knowing whether some dementia process, or his sleep deprivation, is contributing more to this situation.

Books were a big part of Carl’s life. There’s a library down in his study of over a thousand volumes – ranging from history through education to mystery. And he still likes to buy books when we go to Barnes & Noble. But I don’t think he can focus enough to actually read anything – not even the newspaper – not for some time now.

Then there’s the sleep study. The first night – the PSG, or polysomnogram – indicated that Carl should proceed with the second night – the CPAP, or Continuous Positive Airway Pressure. A few nights ago, we did the CPAP test, and it seems that Carl may have actually slept some with the CPAP mask on. But it will be a week or more before we get the “official” evaluation. If a CPAP machine can improve Carl’s enjoyment of life, that will be a bountiful boon.

Then there’s the basal cell carcinoma. There has been a large area – about 1.5 inches across – near Carl’s right temple – mostly under the hair line – for some years now. The facial surgeon felt it was not something to be concerned about. But he saw a smaller area, on the side of Carl’s nose, just above where his eyeglasses nose pad rests, that no one else had noticed, and the doctor was concerned about that. Since he felt it necessary to biopsy one, he biopsied both. It turns out the doctor was right about the large spot, and he was right about the smaller area – it has basal cell carcinoma and will need to be removed.

When the doctor called with the basal cell results, he insisted that Carl be in on the conversation. After that call, Carl said he was relieved – relieved about what, I can’t imagine. The next day, when I explained again, Carl indicated that we’d deal with it. But after the doctor’s scheduling person called, later that evening, and I explained again, he seemed a little upset. And he had difficulty getting settled down to go to sleep that night – which is quite unusual for him.

I wish I had the hypnotic skills of Milton Erickson (“My Voice Will Go With You” – Available from Amazon books) – or Richard Bandler and John Grinder (“TRANCE-formations” – Out of print – My source would be AbeBooks – It’s kind of expensive these days) – or John Overdurf and Julie Silverthorn (“Training Trances” – Available from Amazon books). Then perhaps I could boost my persuasiveness when I encourage Carl to keep going.

As it is, I can use what hypnotic skills I have only to work on improving my sleep patterns, and my sleep patterns can be rough – and to work on keeping me from eating everything that’s not nailed down or frozen solid.

What I do need to work on – and it’s no trivial task – is to keep me from shutting down.

I’m out of work. Because of that, I have had the time and the resources, so far, to focus on Carl’s needs – and to help him as much as I have been able to. I thank the stars I have been able to help, when he needed help.

It’s disturbing to think that most people with dementia suffering relatives or friends can’t take the time – they just don’t have the time available.

I need to work on my writing – here in this blog – and I need to get going with my other two blogs.

When I started this post, Carl had gone back to bed to sleep a bit.

A while back, when events were getting to be a bit much, Carl’s depression got him down, and he said he was going back to bed. I bloody freaked! Carl was my support – he helped keep me going – I needed him to be there. I started hyperventilating, and I couldn’t focus on anything.

After a little while of that, I laid down on the living room floor and calmed myself with controlled breathing. Then I hopped on my computer, opened a problem solving document (a TreePad article, actually), and proceeded to assess the current problems, and to figure out what to do next.

These days, when he goes back to bed, it’s just another event to recognize and deal with.

He just now got up, and he’s in a much better frame of mind.

So far, he’s been resilient. But I recognize that this resilience could wear thin over time.

My task, for the time being, is to encourage and support Carl’s resilience, as long as it’s there to support. And I need to be ready to help Carl when that resilience provides less support than it’s giving now.