Twinkling

Sunday July 14, 2013
9:30 am

In lounge, dressed with slippers, dozing in easy chair.
Recent haircut, shaven, skin clear without rash.
 
I touch his arm and he slowly awakes, then gives a quick smile. "Hi Bernie, How you doin?"

"Not too bad. How are you?"
The woman seated next to Bernie offers her chair and rises to her walker to take another easy chair at the other end of the room.

"Is Kathleen here?"
I describe her being in Florida and then Boston to be with family. "Oh that's nice." He asks about our son, whom Bernie baptized 25 years ago, and I bring him up to date.

The room's quiet is broken by conversations between staff and a couple of chatty residents.  Golf is on the TV and is ignored by all.  Bernie dozes. His conversation is quicker and, while still whispered, is deliberate.

I talk about the news for a bit and he seems to understand, but was otherwise not familiar with the stories previously.  I rest for a bit and he dozes between our conversation.

A forty-something son of another resident arrives with his 10-year daughter and the family dog to visit his mother.  They chat and become the significant conversation for all to hear.  In a minute Bernie opens his eyes and says, "Mangy little animal," he whispers.  He cannot suppress a twinkle.  "Do they have a BBQ grill here?" "Yes, I think they do." "Would it fit?" "We'll have to see about that."  And Bernie and I begin an irrepressible giggle, hoping no-one will notice.  Soon he is dozing again.

I ask about his foot and remind him it was swollen and sore a few weeks ago.  "It is still a bit swollen, but doesn't hurt and I am told it is getting better."  Hmmmm. This seems very aware and reasoned.

After a bit I tell him I'm going to check with the nurse and I'll be back.  On the way I visit his room and see an attachment to the foot of his bed.  It lifts the blanket about a foot up. I'm presuming to this be related to his improving foot. 

I don't see any nurses at the station so I return to bid farewell. 

I can't blame Bernie for dozing most of the time.  He is peaceful and well cared for.  I believe he is the beneficiary of prayer. 

Health Getting Better

2:30 Thursday Afternoon, June 27
Dressed, with slippers in easy chair in Lounge

Kathleen begins a conversation and I can't hear the beginning. Kathleen offers a ride in the wheel chair to the patio, but Bernie protests, "The Lady won't let us." "We can probably get an OK." "I don't know which one to ask." "OK, let's talk here." "Good."

Bernie doesn't finish any sentences, and speaks in a whisper. His breathing is shallow and rapid.  His hands fidget. "Are you anxious, Bernie?" "Yes." "About anything in particular." "I don't know how to put it in words." "OK, then."

How about a walk?  Bernie says OK, and an aid immediately notices and brings us a walker.  Bernie get up from the chair with a minimum of effort.  He takes off down the hall at a moderate pace.  He is sure footed and comfortable.  At the end of the hall we wants to return, but I suggest a lap to the outer hallway, and back again.  No objection.

While underway Kathleen talks with the nurse, and confirms what we have heard the last two visits.

(I didn't mention either visit previously. Bernie seems to be getting better. I didn't want to report that without waiting a bit to make sure it wasn't just a false report.

Nearly two weeks ago the hospice nurse said, "We can't figure it out exactly, but he seems to be healing. His immune system is working. The persistent sore on his bottom is nearly completely healed, and his foot has not gone septic. (Click here for more on sepsis.)

Last week, the same: "We are putting lotion on his sore, but it is healed."
This good news is encouraging. It does not address the confusion and anxiety, but his health is improved.

At the next hospice evaluation, it is likely he will be "graduated" from hospice. This will not impair his ability to rejoin again when the time comes.)

Kathleen mentions Bernie's foot to him. He offers, "It is swollen a bit, but not as bad as it was." Hmm. He remembers and is lucid making a comparison.

Kathleen asks if a visitor we know visited, and Bernie reports, "Yes. They brought Chinese food from
Eriks.  It was a wonderful idea, but the food wasn't as good after the 30 minute drive as it was at the restaurant." Hmmm. He remembers the visit (not a sure thing), and was direct enough to review the food. Good.

Kathleen begins another thread of conversation, and Bernie interrupts. "I have to be going now."  "Bernie, would you like us to go?" "He smiles and says, Yes, I suppose so."

We make our goodbys and halfway down the hall look back to see him waving.

Fr. Craig Reports:

Monday, June 10, 2013

Father Brennan was in the Common Room where a pianist was playing Irish tunes. The pianist was quite good and told a little story behind each tune he was playing. Some of the residents were signing along. Father Brennan was awake and alert and seemed to be enjoying the music along with everyone else.

The pianist changed to songs from classical movies such as Casablanca, Gone with the Wind, and Sound of Music. We chatted about movies during the break between songs. I asked him if he had ever seen Casablanca or Gone with the Wind...no he hadn't. I asked about Sound of music...oh yes...Julie Andrews was in the movie...wonderful movie.

I asked Father Brennan how he was doing and he said it was a "not so good" day. He said it was difficult to put into words but he felt things "just weren't right". We talked about that for a bit and both of us expressed hope tomorrow would be a better day...he smiled...a smile that said so much...words are unnecessary.

cpl+

Oh Faa-der; Yes Faa-der

Wednesday, June 5, 2013
10:30 am
In Lounge, Dressed, Socks and Slippers

I stand for a minute and watch from behind the facing row of easy chairs. Father's seatmate is just getting up, and I plan to take his seat, but an aide notices me and gets Bernie's attention and we wave.  She offers a wheel chair and Bernie assents.

"Would you like to go to the patio." "Yes, that would be nice."  I push slowly and Bernie lifts his feet barely off the ground.  "Isn't it pretty here."  I am encouraged by his positive spirit. "Sun or shade?" "How about here."  He chooses a shady spot and before I can begin the opening questions he says, "It's a little chilly here, could we move into the sun." "Why you bet."  I'm glad to have him interact and express a preference.

The next 30 minutes are a demonstration of quick easy, nearly automatic responses, but only a few words long, contrasted with incomplete sentences, trailing off into "Oh, Dear God. Oh, Dear God."

For a while now I have anticipated opening a conversation about heaven and transition.  I broach the subject and Bernie says he doesn't think about it much.  "What will that be like?" "No one knows." "Does any of that transition worry you?" "No."   He doesn't duck the subject, but doesn't have much to say about it.

I ask another generalized question, and Bernie answers, "God has a plan for every individual." 

He seems to be unafraid, but neither anxious to talk about death and heaven.



I ask about his foot.  "I have no pain in my left foot."  "Oh, is that good?" "Yes, very good."  That was the foot which was first thought to be cellulitis.  Since it has not responded to any of the antibiotics, everyone has a wait and see attitude.  "We'll see what happens. They check it every morning," Bernie offers 

"I know they mean well, but the nurses and aids can be a bother.  'Oh, Faa-der.' 'Yes, Faa-der.'" Bernie twinkles with an impish look, and I laugh out loud.  This is not the first time.  His dialect is very familiar, and I am well conditioned.  He looks up and see's how much I enjoy his sense of humor and gives a teasing smile, quite and subtle enough that we could deny everything if we were caught.

I mentioned he looks like he might have gained some weight. "Yes, that's what Kathleen said when she visited."  Why some things linger and some are forgotten.  During other visits I have asked about visitors, and he said he didn't recall any. Obviously he has many, some reported here and some not. I don't know if he would rather not discuss the visits.

I ask about meals. "Which is the best meal of the day?"  "Oh, definitely not breakfast. I suppose the mid-day meal." "Bernie, when you were growing up, what did you call the last meal of the day?" His pace quickens and answers immediately, "Supper." He interrupts himself eagerly, "Never dinner." It was as if he was afraid someone would take the floor and he needed to express himself.  "And what about the midday meal?" And, as if a switch turned off, he was unable to recall what that meal was called. "Oh dear God."  We joke for a minute, and I offer, "My cousins in Canada call the evening meal supper, and at noon they eat dinner."  "Oh, no -- never dinner."  "Sometimes the Sunday meal would be called Dinner."

I remind him of the many times he'd come to dinner (supper) at our house, and either during the meal or afterward someone would use a word and another would say something like, "do you mean connotate or denotate (or detonate?) and the four of us would each grab a dictionary and for the next two hours one word would lead to another and each of us would read from our dictionary and argue with the dictionary editors.  He remembered all this and smiled.

"Can you tell me what this watch is telling?" "Well, it IS a little hard to figure out...the little hand is between the 11 and the twelve and the big hand between the 5 and the 6 so it is hard to read.... It looks like 11:25 or so."

"OK, we still have some time."  "Are you concerned about something." "I just don't want to be late." "For lunch?" "Yes." "OK we can go in now."

We slowly wheel into the dining room and it is nearly half full. I say, "You point, I'll steer."  He raises his hand to point to the table under the clock where we sat last week. One of the aides said, that's where the priests sit.  Father Joe was already seated and had his head down.  Bernie points to his spot and we wheel around. I take a chair.  Bernie says, "I don't know what else to say."  You don't have to say anything, I'll just sit for a bit and listen. 

One of the CDs is on the player, and I cannot guess the era. I recognize the tune, but have no idea why it is familiar.  I pull out my cell phone and launch Shazam.  In about 30 seconds, the app tells me. "My cell phone can listen to a song and tell me the name.  That's Blondie 'Call me' - 1980."  "That's amazing" both priests say almost in unison.  Father Joe and Bernie both appreciated how remarkable it is that a cell phone can listen to a few seconds of a tune, and identify it.  We all shake out heads and agree, "That really is amazing."

Each of these men is amazing. They immediately came to life to acknowledge this small technical feat.

Fr. Craig Reports:

Thursday, May 30, 2013

I visited with Father Brennan today. Found him napping in the Common Room. A tap on the arm and he woke up. He looked sharp in a bright orange-red polo shirt. "Cardinal red" said he. 

We talked about the usual things...how he feels..."not too bad"...mutual friends...how my life is going. He always wants to know how I am doing. Very touching. He said his foot is about the same...no worse.

This was a brief visit because it was apparent he really wanted to nap. So, a prayer and a blessing and off I went. 

cpl+

Stefan Reports:

Wednesday, May 29, 10am

10 am.

Bernie was in the sitting room when Mass was ending.  We exchanged salutations.  He has a good haircut.  He was in a fair mood, but asked that I return later.

Noon. 

I returned to visit with him during lunch.  He was in a fairly pleasant mood as we chatted about this and that.  He picked up the fresh-cut roses on the table and admired their beauty and perfume. 

Several months ago, he pointed at some roses and said “See those?  You say that they are beautiful, but with this cloud over me, I cannot see that at all.” 

No change

Tuesday, May 28, 10:05 am

Mindless of time I realize I've come exactly when they are having their daily communion service.  Ok, I'll not interrupt, and besides I don't spot Bernie from my vantage point.

I check his room to find his bed neatly made, but no Bernie.

I wait a few more minutes, and appreciate the enclosed patio and the bright sun and flowers.

I hear a game show on the Lounge TV (the signal that the TV is on and activities resume) and spot Bernie, and another resident in the easy chairs. Bernie's seatmate has his hand up and I cannot resist, "I see your hand up. Is there anything I can do for you?"  Bernie stirs on hearing my voice and we smile. "Morning, Bernie." "Hello."

"Can you get me out of this damned chair and into a wheel chair so I can go to my room?", his agitated seatmate says.  "Ok. I'll see what I can do."

The aides are helping another resident and are using an hydraulic lift to get her out of her chair and swung around so a wheel chair can be maneuvered under her.  "We know. He's next."

I return and relay the news. "Thanks." And I begin my conversation with Bernie.  He volunteers, "Dreadful machine." "The lift?" "Yes." "Do you use it?"  "Oh, God no." 





We both smile and carry on. "Hey you're looking mighty sharp. Is that a new haircut?" "Yes."

In a bit I ask if he would like to go to the patio.  He pauses and quivers. "I'm afraid of my ...." He said something that I couldn't hear. "Your what Bernie?" "Feet, F E E T", he patiently spells for me. "Oh, yes. What about your feet?" "I don't know if I can describe it. He pauses and in a moment says, "I'm afraid of falling." "Ok, then would you like to rest here?" "Yes."

He asks what's new, and I describe the usual things that keep us busy. "Oh, that's nice." 

I remember an email I received which described him being included in the prayers of the faithful at one of the churches he served on the Peninsula. "He is always remembered at our Parish," said the emailer. "Oh, that's nice."

It occurs to me that I saw a stack of today's newspaper in the dining room. "Would you like me to get a paper and read the news?" "Oh, yes." "OK, you wait right here." He promptly smiled. We have carefully trained each other in our recurring punch lines, used over the years. Boy, he is with it this morning.

The Marin Independent Journal didn't shake the earth with news this morning.  There was an interesting story about a horse which was rescued from falling into an eight foot wide well in San Rafael.  It took the Fire Department, Veterinarians, and a crane and when rescued about 25 on-lookers applauded. "Isn't that interesting?" he offered.


Another feature on the history of the bay near Sausalito.  120 years ago the bay was named Ark Bay because no less than 15 arks had taken up residence there. ..."young bachelors and bohemians, took up residence in the free-floating homes, some quite elegant." Bernie smiled.

Not much else. The Peanuts cartoon was only mildly amusing and didn't bring much response. The Our Family cartoon about the same.

"Bernie, would it be OK if I check with the nurse to see about your foot. I won't leave till I check back." "That would be good."

The nurse didn't take long to say there wasn't much change, for the better or worse. "We'll just keep an eye on it to see."

I'm back to Bernie and say we're all watching the foot and hope it gets better. "OK." I remind him many are praying for him and ask for his prayers. "God bless you." He smiles and waves.

Long time friends of Bernie report:

Thursday,  May 23, 2013

We visited Bernie was he was doing very well on Thursday. We visited for about one hour and he was very attentive.

Father Craig reports:

Wednesday
May 22, 2013, 10:30 am

Today I visited with Father Brennan for about 30 minutes. I found him dozing in the Common Room. One of the nurses was kind enough to roll him into the dining room where is was quieter. I asked him how he was doing and he replied, "Not too bad".

This was without question a "good" visit...not that they all aren't. He was more alert than I have seen him in some time...certainly since my visit last Wednesday.

After he expressed some initial concern about the large clock in the dining room...he does seem preoccupied with the time...we had a wonderful visit. We covered a variety of topics and he initiated more of the conversation than in any of my previous visits.

He did express hope he would be able to return to his own apartment again. We discussed that for a bit and he agreed he needed to get his strength back before that could be considered. It was apparent he was talking about his apartment in San Francisco. He thought about that for a minute and remembered he had given up the apartment. He concluded he was better off where he was at the moment.

What I saw today was Father Brennan on an exceptional day of focused conversation which I did not have to keep going, with just a bit of uncertainty about things.

I encourage those of you who have not yet taken the time to visit Father Brennan to do so...you will leave blessed by having been in his presence.

cpl+

A new medicine

Wednesday, May 22, 2012,  9:15am

I drop in (always unannounced) about 9:15 to find Bernie dressed in lounge area in a recliner chair. He has bedroom slippers on his feet. The chair has a control to lift the leg rest, but it is in the retracted position.  I hold Bernie's hand and he rouses from a nap and takes 10 seconds to slowly awake, focus, then recognize me. He smiles.  "Hi Bernie, how you doin?" "Not too bad." 

I describe to him that we got a garbled message yesterday from Connie, the Hospice RN. There may be a plan to take him to the Doctor. I tell Bernie I would figure out what the plan was, and report back.

Connie wasn't available, so I left a message on her cell and returned to Bernie to report I have nothing to report. I told we were praying for him, and asked for his prayers. "I'll see you tomorrow." His footrest is now extended, supporting his legs.

It is just before 10am and the lounge area had been setup for daily communion.  Driving home I realize that part of my prayers being answered is the appropriate and very loving attention he receives from every person I have encountered at Nazareth House. Daily communion and a community where it is fostered. Thank you God.

Connie calls to say they would like to try another oral antibiotic. Bernie does not have to be transported to the doctor. She was in contact with Bernie's doctor and her agency's medical director.  Both concur with her that the best course is to try the new antibiotic.

"Bernie is eating about 40-50% of his servings. Breakfast is his best meal. For the amount of activity he has, this is probably equal calorie intake and use. Let's see how his infection responds to the new medicine."