The Soul Beyond the Senses

Senses Are Changing

This is hard to write because I am grieving as I see these things happen and so are others in his family I'm sure.

Cognitive Decline. Hubby and I still talk--but mainly about daily things like does he want yogurt, Boost, ice cream or water. I point out how cute our dog is, but he doesn't respond. Last Saturday, the day before Father's Day, he didn't recognize his own adult son and daughter, his only children from his first marriage. I am sure this is hard for them. They did not allow the grandchildren to see him, favoring letting their memories of the grandfather be of happier times.

Touch. Hubby used to object to our dog licking his head and toes. However, now he doesn't object. He doesn't like the feel of my hair when I bend down to kiss him, so I try to control that hair. At times he favors the fetal position in bed, but this may be because both knees have osteoarthritis it seems and we put a pillow between them. Last several days,  however, he is on his back with his knees bent and he rubs those knees.

Sight and memory. He doesn't respond to how he looks (buck-teeth look) with upper false teeth not completely in his mouth when I show him in a mirror. At times over the past few months he hasn't recognized sights in our home. He forgot about the backyard. I have to remind him that THIS is our house. I do that often. I also tell him that someone will be with him at all times now. I can't leave without someone being here. Usually they sit on the couch in the family room and look down the hall to see him in the hospital bed. No longer am I amazed that volunteers have come forward to stay with him when I need to leave the house. This morning a fifteen year old and a 17 year old stayed with him. The younger one touched his hand and my husband smiled warmly--a definite bond. Care receivers often live in an earlier time and I wonder if he thought Esteban is his son at a younger age. 

Taste and Smell. Hubby can chew a pill but not a capsule pill so he is not getting capsule pills now. Except for sweets his taste buds are gone. At one point I was crushing all his pills and putting them in applesauce. But it would take a long time to feed him and he needs his pain medicine at special times. His nurse has him on fewer pills now. He used to take Metformin for Type Two diabetes, but doesn't need it now and I do check his glucose. Fewer pills means fewer side effects. The Namenda and Exellon Patch for Alzheimer's wasn't working any more anyway. The Hospice nurse knows the protocol for pills. I am grieving about fewer pills, but this simplified medicine seems to be working and it is the dementia that is causing his downhill spiral.  I haven't done much with smell to bring up memories, but that is a caregiver strategy to use. On the other hand he does not smell his own excrement--but I sure do!

Hearing. Still good I believe, although he isn't interested in TV as he used to be. He does respond to my voice and if something is to be done (turn him in bed), you have to tell him that or he will get upset by shaking his hands. Tell him what is to happen, repeat it and do it. Then he is not upset.

So how do I communicate with my husband? 

Smiles and simple words. Elaine Pereira, author of I Will Never Forget writes HERE: "As the brain of an Alzheimer's person deteriorates neurologically, language plummets as mumbling trumps intelligent words." He doesn't answer questions now. I am learning to interpret hubby's mumbling.  If he doesn't want some food I am hand-feeding him, he will just push it away. On occasion he will give me an angry look or push my arm to get it away. I then back off. Mainly I smile and tell myself that if the situation were reversed (I had dementia), he would do the same for me.

Feelings. My husband will start to cry and I pick up on that as I say: You feel sad. It will be okay. This calms him down. Or I pray. Before the dementia, I never saw him cry. He definitely has emotions and often he smiles. He likes when I say I am his loving wife, and once he said "thanks" when I said this. I show him my wedding rings and his which, I noticed, is now on his middle finger since he has lost weight not eating much. I appreciate that a Hospice aide must have put it on the other finger.

Music. Sunday morning I put on hymns and he seemed to enjoy this so much. We could worship together. I mentioned Revelation 5:9 to him that in Heaven we get to sing a new songs to the LORD and he nodded. If the senses and memory are changing, his soul isn't. This Christian believer is with me when I pray. He listens to heaven talk. My faith helps me not cry, but to look to heaven where there will be no more tears.

I appreciate his soul and that he 

will be in heaven one day.  

It's great that with the decline of 

the senses his soul will remain. 

I look around the house now and am grieving for all of the changes. He is confined to our bedroom and content at that. Equipment has come to a halt. No more walker, wheel chair, Geri chair, and bathroom grab rails. Just a hospital bed with my twin bed beside him. We don't eat meals together any more as I spoon feed him and give him liquids with a straw.


When the Hospice Health Care Aide came Sunday morning, this Christian lady told me our house has peace. What a compliment to our LORD to say that the house has peace! The LORD is in this place.

The LORD is my peace. Psalm 119:165 reads:

Great peace have those who love Your law,

 And nothing causes them to stumble. 

I think of the words in the old hymn, It Is Well With My Soul by Horatio G. Spafford: 

When peace like a river

attends my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot

You have taught me to say

It is well, it is well, with my soul.  .  .  .