Have I mentioned that I am NOT mechanically inclined? For the 36 years M and I have been married, we’ve had a division of duties that has worked well for us. He’s been in charge of all things mechanical and electric and I’ve handled things like gardening and cooking. I know it sounds like a cliché, but these are things I enjoy doing and I seem to have some talent for.
Now, however, with dementia in the picture, I’ve had to develop talents I’ve never thought about having and I’ve discovered some things are really harder than I ever imagined.
Take the aluminum vent hose for the dryer. Ours was clogged with lint, so I tried to clean it out. WOW – what a mess. I finally gave up and bought a new one. But when I tried to connect the hose to the pipe in the wall that vents outside, the hose and the pipe are exactly the same size. So there was no way to connect them.
I went back to the store and got a coupler that reduces from 5 inches to 4 inches and put that on the pipe in the wall. I was able to attach it to the pipe just fine, but 4 inches is still the same size as the vent hose – so I hadn’t helped myself at all.
So I went back to the store and got a coupler that reduces from 4 inches to 3 inches. I just knew I had it this time!! But what did I forget? The pipe is 4 inches. The coupler is 4 inches. There is no way to put them together.
Argh!
I put everything down, picked up all the dirty laundry and we drove to my dad’s house. He had gone out of town for a few days, so M, the dogs and I had a quiet Sunday watching TV and washing (and drying) load after load of laundry. It was so much fun, we even ordered a pizza.
The good news is, M’s brother and his girlfriend are coming into town Friday and he told me several weeks ago to come up with a list of things he could help me with around the house. At the time I laughed and thought that would be a terrible thing to do to someone – give them a list of chores when they walk in the door. Now I’m thinking I can get my dryer working on Friday. And maybe a ceiling fan in my bedroom.
We’ll see.
Yesterday was the bloodmobile that M and I have been going to for over 10 years – and I think it may have been the last time. I may have already mentioned that M is incredibly popular there because of his O Negative blood type. I’m more of an “also ran” because I’m A Positive. Basically, I just go because of the doughnuts.
When we got there, we were able to walk right in and get going with the “what is your name and date of birth” questioning – and that’s where it all fell apart. M couldn’t provide them with his date of birth. And they wouldn’t let me do it for him because it would look as though I was forcing him to give blood against his will. So I was able to donate and he wasn’t.
He wasn’t too upset while we were there, but in the car on the way home, he was a little more perturbed about it. I told him he was going to have to know his birthdate and we needed to practice it. It went something like this:
Me: What’s your birthdate?
M: I don’t know.
Me: January 1st 1900 (for this illustration)
M: okay
Me: say it with me. January 1st
M: January 1st
Me: 1900
M: 1900
Me: January 1st 1900
M: January 1st 1900
Me: When is your birthday?
M: I don’t know.
We went through this exercise three or four times before he was completely tired of it and he never remembered what his birthday was. I think that signals the end of blood donations.
Something else that has fallen away.
♥️🙏