About ten days ago, Ricardo somehow came down with that very nasty cold that I’ve seen people mentioning for a couple of months now. I say “somehow” because for years we have managed to avoid viruses, probably due to lots of handwashing and not much contact with society at large. Anyway, he became very ill very quickly.
For someone with Parkinson’s, an event like this is going to mean a loss of strength, and by the second night of his illness I found that there was very little Ricardo could do for himself. Most importantly, he could not get up from bed to use the bathroom, and on that night he felt like he needed to go just about every hour. He could not sit up on his own, and I had to try to pull him up from the mattress. He is not tall and not stout, but still, that felt (to my back, anyway) like a lot of dead weight. And then, sometime around 4:30 a.m., he fell back into bed flat on his stomach, with his head swallowed by the two pillows he sleeps on. And could not move. Not at all. I managed to get one of the pillows out so he could breathe, and we discussed what to do next. I really didn’t want to call an ambulance and have him go to the hospital, where I felt little could be done for him.
The only recourse we had was to our son-in-law and daughter, who live close by and, fortunately for us, get up at about 4 a.m. Sean and Sara said they would come by on their way to work, and Sean, big strong guy that he is, got Ricardo rolled over and upright, and in and out of the bathroom.
I’ll spare you all the in-between details. I figured out a way to help R. get on his feet, he regained a little strength, and we soldiered on, with him still needing most everything done by me 24/7 for the next four or five days. And then about six days in…
Yep, you guessed it. I came down with the very nasty virus. Oh my, you should have heard the two of us hacking and choking all night. I’m sure most of the people in our building did. In the meantime, Ricardo had guessed that part of the problem with his weakness at night was due to the Remiran he was taking. He felt dopey and drugged when he had to get up in the night, and decided to forego taking it for the present–and by golly, that did make a difference! Just enough of a difference that I could actually get him out of bed without throwing my back out. So far, so good.
Today, five or six days in, is the first day I’ve felt a little better, and I’m very grateful! R. is improving as well, but slowly. We were able to sit in the sunshine on our balcony this afternoon as I did some very necessary deadheading of our carnations and the lovely azalea which bloomed so late because of the rotten weather in the spring.
There are some serious situations facing loved ones, and we, particularly Ricardo, have offered up our sufferings for their intentions. We’re keeping our spirits up, and managing to get by, thanks to a grocery run from Sara and Sean and a couple of nights of take-out. I have not lost sight of the malignant humour in the fact that we’ve been out of commission during the first good run of summer weather we’ve had in these parts. On the other hand, considering what some of you have had to suffer through heat waves, I guess we’re sort of lucky.
That’s it for now. Thanks for reading!