When I was young I was very perky. You know that kind of annoying perkiness that comes with youth. It was natural. No need for drugs or booze. If it were bottled, I’d buy a case or two because I used up my lifetime supply long ago.
Perky is what gets you through a lot of things, turning mishaps into peals of laughter. (Yeah, even I can hardly remember that.) Fortunately I have a blog where I can turn mishaps into posts. I can’t guarantee peals of laughter but I sure feel better afterward.
Yesterday I could have used some perky. We visited a relative in an assisted living home. He has dementia but can still remember who people are – at least we think he can. He’s happy and smiley but I wasn’t sure if the synapses were snapping. Today he may not remember we were there.
The drive was over eight hours (that included an interstate closure for a major accident with a fatality). That’s long for my butt in many ways. It also drains my perky. I have IBS (go ahead and google it – it means that I use the bathroom frequently and when I have to go, get out of my way). It was a challenging ride.
While the beloved husband is plotting the route, I am plotting the bathroom stops. Most interstates have nice ones these days. Our local interstate even has a Starbucks in the rest stop but I don’t drink on the road. Just makes more stops. Let’s see — dehydration or bathroom spots, what to do.
We spent some time with our relative and his wife. These situations are tough on a spouse or partner. After years of care-taking, she lives by herself. You are not a widow but not quite a full-fledged spouse. These situations always make me pause and reflect on what may happen to us.
Everything is fluid. The best you can do is plan your financial resources and make agreements between you on how to handle the situation before it happens. Then you go on with life because everything may change. Dwelling on it is a perky-drain.
Our relative was very lucky. He was not adept at handling money but has a wife who could make things happen. He resides in a place that is high on the niceness scale. There are activities and many rooms he can visit including an atrium that is all glass and overlooks the beautiful outdoors. I could see myself reading there with a cup of coffee.
There were many older residents who did not appear to be mentally impaired. Some used canes or walkers but they were with friends chatting away (with some level of perkiness – I can always hope).
Instead of chatting over a margarita, they were chatting over a tea or coffee or knitting. Things change. Perkiness can resurrect with the right group of friends.
I can only hope.