And life goes on…

This week I have been blessed to have my good friend and co-blogger, Jim, here for a visit.

God could not have picked a better time. A few weeks ago we survived my grandson Zack’s wedding along with Greg Friedman, we survived my pup, Beanni, being in an overnight stay.

And life went on. I fully anticipated that our successful trip to the west coast of Michigan would have effects on me. And it did, as expected. 3 weeks of sleep, dullness, waiting for my brain to rewire itself, as – praise God! – it always does. Always a bit worse for wear, but surfacing none-the-the less.

And so it seemed. With few demands on my life or my social skills, just hibernating seemed to be enough.

Until yesterday. Jim made his pilgrimage to see how I was doing, and it appeared pretty much ok. He’s familiar with my morning naps, my right after luch naps. He’s very kewl about such things. Somewhere in that time frame, I had received a call that Rxs were awaiting me.

I came downstairs to say that simple thing. And my mind drew a blank. No, seriously for the first time, a blank. My internal ‘hard drive’ left me years ago. My DVD shortly after that. So to speak these days I rely on my RAM – random access memory – not great but a comfort that of 100 choices as least there I had at least 10 choices of words.

But not that day. It was like I had a simple notepad. And it was blank.

For the very first time since being diagnosed with FTD, I had finally come to the point where there were no words. Nothing.

My brain wanted to tell him I had 2 Rxs at the drug store and I had 2 more to add.

I’m feisty, and when all but grunts came out I pointed to my ipad and he gave it to me. I had barely added ‘I need to add Benedryl and…. one other…’

But before I could finish that short sentence, my body ran head on into a full blown dystonia (uncontrolled body movements). My head wanted to crawl down my spine. My lips wanted leap off my face, taking my tongue with them. My hands curled up like those of the wicked witch of Oz. My eyes wanted to leap out of their sockets. My legs wanted to roll up, as the wicked with of the East’s did when the house landed upon her. My spine wanted my neck to curl down to it’s upper base, and it pulled my head in ways that I didn’t know it could do, but then … my shoulders fought with my head and for hours it was a tug o’war.

Thank God my good friend Jim was here. He shoved pills between my curling lips and clenched teeth, and gave me sips of water.

5 hours later he was at my side, having seen me through 2 more dystonia seizures. I had passed out after the first.

Maybe it’s too dramatic to say he saved my life. But all I know is God had him here at that moment in time. When my brain and voice died.

And I will be grateful forever to have survived with someone at my side.

Papa, thank you for knowing when I would need help and providing someone to sit by, watching what looked like an exorcism, and be there to bring me back, to my reality.

Dying seems so noble. Living despite knowing you are dying brings grace.

Blessings & love, Vicki