5 Things that made me happy.

Little Konna and me.

I missed yesterday, but I don’t think I should put any pressure on myself. Did however started up some drafts for ideas, just hope I remember lol.

1. The unconditional love of a child. This little angel running to me with arms wide open to hug me and let met pick him up, makes me happy. I really don’t mind keeping him entertained for the whole day, while his mom is helping me in the house.

2. We are all at home, but what would really make me happy is if everybody can just get on fabulously all the time.

3. I like the color red 😉

4. I like the music of Avi Caplan. He has the most awesome bass voice and I love Acapella , music.

5. I love to sometimes just sit in my chair and do absolutely nothing.

That’s it for today. Counted my blessings and all. Enjoy your day and try out posting short lists of counting your blessings. It helps make you feel better in realizing not everything is bad.

Much love and kindness.

Saro

Giving up or not.

Hi there 🙂

This week me and some other friends talked about medical aid for persons with dementia. Now there was one new friend. When they asked him if he is also applying for having medical aid, he said he is only 52 and that he will be dead in 10 years because of the disease he has. I was to afraid to ask him what it was, but it must have been some form of dementia, as the group is for people with dementia.

I was so sad. The others just did not say a thing. What was in each person’s heart? Fear, acceptance, sadness or even anger?

The above words I found on facebook from a lovely person I don’t know and never have met. It is so awesome. That is how I would like to do it. I already have God in my life. The rest is yet to see.

Something I notice, is that the moment something change around me. Does not matter what, I get confused and stars crying. I can not handle it anymore if someone is so called teasing me. It is as if my brain simply freeze up and the emotions of crying shows up. I try to handle, hide it… correct word missing now. I cannot think. Some days I feel normal… five seconds in, something happen lol. So I will just have to take it day by day.

Now got to go. Lots of love and kindness.

Saro (Elmarie)

I don’t want it!

I don’t want the strokes… I don’t want the dementia!!!!! It makes me miserable. Some days I feel courageous and other days I feel like this. I feel stupid, incompetent and useless. If my family reads or hears this, they will assure me that it is not the case, but it is how I feel.

The Bipolar does not help either. It is something that has been haunting me for practically all my life. Suicide attempts, horrible highs and then the terrible downs, where all is black with no hope. There is also the aggression. That is the worst of all. It makes me a monster. It harms me and my family equally and sometimes I think it harms me most because of the guild and sorrow.

I am on so much medication that if I take any more, I will be a slobbering fool. The medication is a mood stabilizer and the Dopaquel takes care of the aggression and insomnia. Obviously there is nothing to be done on the dementia medication wise. They gave me Memantine for 6 months, to see if it keeps the decline less, but I don’t see any and have stopped taking it. The other medication I take because it keeps me alive.

Then there is the anxiety and epilepsy…. I think I cover almost all the bases on what can go wrong in the head. Thank God I am mentally and behaviorally stable and don’t have personality or something like that problems.

I just can’t stop crying today. My husband is in a sh@t mood as well and that’s not helping. I cannot handle conflict. That simply is too much for me. I feel as if I cannot do anything anymore, which is not really true, I can still wipe my own butt so to speak. I keep on putting things away and when I or everyone else starts looking for something such a huge cloud of anxiety comes over me.

I cannot say something about my husband here, because it will not be right, I do love him though, but I think he needs help as well mentally. How to address that is beyond me. My kids are a tremendous help and comfort.

All these things is not written on my face, or scars or something. It is in my fricken head. As long as I keep my mouth shut nobody will be any the wiser. I do have a speech impairment because of the strokes and the cognitive impairment is …. as I said as long as I keep my mouth shut.

But how can I shut my mouth and not talk, because with the dementia in the later stages my speech will disappear all together.

Many people think that having dementia of whatever kind you are immediately unable to walk talk or function. It is not true. You can still have a meaningful life for many years until THAT DAY comes. Yes we need assistance and the assistance will be increasingly needed. But people are not all of a sudden this monsters that does not want to shower or whatever. Yes I feel sorry for the caregivers and I am very very grateful for what they do. They dedicate their lives to take care of their loved ones. Thing is the ME does not go away. I will always be there, even if it looks like I’m just a shell. Nobody can suddenly go from somebody to a nobody. Until the day you die, you will be a somebody with a name. I am Saro or Elmarie.

All this is breaking my heart for myself, my family and everyone that have the same conditions. But life is not fair. Nowhere is there any guarantee that life will or is moonshine and roses. If someone have cancer or some other disease everyone go and visit etc. Most of the people that I speak to that have dementia said that they have lost friends and even family. So many are lonely. I am so grateful for Dementia Mentors that introduced me to friends that are the same as me. Days like this I just want to curl up and die or something like that and no dear daughters of mine that reads my blogs you don’t have to put me on suicide watch. I will most probably recover and be on my merry way again. I am not going to re read this post so please put up with the mistakes and thank you for reading/listening, it is appreciated.

Saro

Chicken outing facilitator

My head is so foggy and down right screwed today, but it was all worth it.Actually my head feels like that chicken’s hairdo. Yesterday Fairyland pre-school had an outing to a friend of ours chicken farm. The picture is of my eldest daughter with her favorite Sylky chicken, Lora (She writes as She Wolf). This is a link to her blog, she gives her side and experience of living with my dementia. http://adairyandsomefeathers.home.blog/2019/07/25/are-two-heads-better-than-one/

Well I volunteered to do the chickens and rabbits. They came in 5 groups. First group, the teacher had to give me a few pointers as to what to tell the kiddies. Like where the chickens comes from… o dear. Second group went a bit better, but by the third group I had to keep on asking the teacher if I said this and that already. Lol one kiddie picked up a rabbit poop and put it in his mouth. I just put my hand in front of his mouth and said… spit… spit.. spit.. The next groups went a bit more difficult for me, but I managed. I am so proud of myself that I could do that. After that I still had to do my kids at the Aftercare Center… that pushed me over the edge. But I still managed.

Having dementia does not mean you are useless. You can still do things other people do and I’m not afraid to venture out. It is difficult to keep my thoughts straight writing this. I made friends on Dementia Mentors Virtual Cafe that can’t read or recognize people anymore, but they still give lectures on dementia… our side of it, to big audiences. And there I fricken cry again. I realize there will come a time when I really will not be able to do anything, but while I still can, I will live life to the fullest.

Something that is sad, is that people that loves you becomes so protective that they just don’t want you to do anything. I took my night meds the other day instead of the morning ones the other day. Nothing happened, I just slept all day, that I think just did me some good. I recently stayed 3 weeks on my own, with my friend across the road checking in on me without any trouble. I just cooked our meals for 3 weeks on my own… with instructions, but I did it without setting the house on fire or harming myself.

Can’t remember what I really wanted to say anymore. Let me go see what I can do without using my brain…. Wonder how long it is going to take me to recover.

Just a note to whoever knows me and reads this… don’t worry because my head feels shit after everything I did yesterday, I recover and will kick your fricken arse if you refuse to let me do things again. Please I want to.

Love and kindness and sorry for the bad words at the end.

Saro

Saro

Hi there 🙂 Here I am again… Wish I could write more, but today I would like to tell you about the name Saro.

In 1994 I started a relationship with the dear Lord Jesus Christ. One day not long after the happening someone told me the following story.:

A woman went to a small town without anyone she knew knowing. Every day she would go sit quietly in a small chapel after first putting a yellow rose on the altar and said:”Lord, to You I pledge my loyalty”. She did that for a whole week and then went home. About three weeks later a friend of hers came to visit her. Her friend gave her a bouquet of seven yellow roses. Her friend said that for three weeks as she went past the flower shop, she heard a voice telling her to buy her friend seven yellow roses and tell her Jesus pledged His loyalty to her. She said she argued and said, why not red roses for the blood of Jesus or for love. But the voice was persistent. So here are your roses and Jesus says He pledge His loyalty to you. The woman started crying and told her friend about her visits to the chapel and the yellow roses.

This story really touched my heart and I would think of it all the time. One night I woke up and I saw a hand writing on my wall: SARO. I asked what it means, because I knew it was God, and he said:”For ever faithful” I fell asleep again after that. The next morning as we left the house, next to my front door was a rose bush with yellow roses on. We did not plant it, there was no indication that anyone planted it there. It had roses all year around, never needed special care. It was special. Since then, my name was Saro in my heart. No, nobody calls me Saro, they call me Elmarie. When I write something I write it as Saro, I name my pets Saro, my name in my online game is Saro.

Saro I am…. for ever faithful to my dear Lord Jesus and He to me.

Love and kindness

Saro

About cows and suitcases.

Hi there 🙂 Few days since I wrote a blog. Been busy busy and busy. However I’ve been reading my favorite blogs. Everyone I follow are my favorites and thank you for all the new friends following my blog. I love yours too!

Yesterday was quite some day. I’m trying to help my eldest with her teaching practice projects. Now the theme is farm animals. Now thinking with dementia sometimes is like morse code. Think, think, gap, think, gap, gap, gap, think, think , quite some gap-a-thinking. Not to mention remembering: talk, talk, talk…. what the hell did we talk about? About shoes, reminds my friend, shoes… shoes… shoes? Nahhh Have I told you the story about my grandmothers chickens?…. yes dear half an hour ago. Dang.. Ok How are your chickens doing? She farms with chickens.

Now about the teaching practice projects. I’ve been trying think of nice easy projects the little ones could do. Wait, what about a mask of a cow. They can make a collage on a paper plate. Next moment, I’m trying to remember what a cows ears looks like, but in my memory image of a cow, I just don’t see ears. Not pointy ones, not hanging ones etc. Next question to my husband… Hi, does cows have ears? You must have seen his face! Of cause cows have ears, all living things have ears. For the life of me I still couldn’t picture the cow’s ears. Later we went to town and passed some cows. My husband applied the brakes very enthusiastically and showed me cows next to the road. See love, they do have ears. Big floppy ones. Ok cows have ears. In bed last night, he googled some cows and showed me the ears… sweet old darling.

Now that was just me. It was very, very cold yesterday, with strong wind and rain. My husband went out to take his suitcase out of the car and decided to go park the car in a safe place. Just guess what… he forgot that he placed the suitcase behind the car. Whoopsy daisy there he ran over the suitcase. Right in the middle, he said. I wanted to know if the suitcase was still okay and the contents. Nope not going to look. I think he was a bit worried. When we got to bed he put the suitcase on the bed… well it is still one of those old good ones. No damage, all just fine, he declared with a relieved smile.

Having dementia is not all sad and horrible, you can make the best of what you still have. It all lies in attitude and all that type of things. How you look at it. On the other hand, on a bad day I would have cried my eyes out because cows don’t have ears. Dementia is a horrible thing and difficult, but I decided to live every day to the fullest.

Got to go now. Am going to help a friend of mine that has cancer to wash. Helping others also help you. It makes you feel, you are still okay and can still mean something to someone else.

Nuf said.

Lots of love and kindness

Saro

Take a breath.

Photo from Mountcarmelplaceofprayer.com

Hi there. I attended two Dementia Mentors Zoom chats now, which was so awesome and comforting. One thing my friend Tru http://truthfulkindness.com/ said, was when things gets bad, just take a breath. Now at the time I just simply could not figure out why she said I should take a breath… I didn’t stop breathing, in fact I’m still breathing. I didn’t say anything, because it was one of those things I couldn’t figure out again.

Yesterday was such a lovely day, but today kind of sucks. I’m crying, my head feels sort of empty or depressed, I don’t know. I just cannot tell why I don’t feel well. I just want to sit and do nothing. I did however washed the pots and pans… not finished yet, as I decided to wash one pot at a time. I tried to pour the water out of the one pot and somehow I could not figure out which way. Sounds stupid I know and guess what… I tipped it out the wrong way and all over me and the fricken floor. I notice that I’m very impulsive, maybe that was where the tipping went wrong.

See, I think this is where the “taking a breath” comes in. Maybe I should be less harsh on my self and accept that things are going to go wrong. I just read this blog http://elaineeshbaugh.com/2019/06/17/hey-dementia-community-stop-telling-me-your-challenges-arent-a-big-deal/ Bless her lovely heart.

Take a breath, calm down and start again, I think it means. If I cannot accept myself with this disease, how am I going to make it to tomorrow? One step at a time, one day at a time or you eat an elephant one bite at a time? So many sayings for going forward.

Today, I just don’t see it and yes all these things are a big thing, not just something that can be swept under the rug. I always wondered how I’m going to die one day, but it certainly wasn’t like this. I saw some dementia patients that were already in a vegetative state. It was so upsetting. But on the other hand, I can still live another 20 years without reaching that state. These are things I sometimes or at least today think about. I have a speech impairment, but somehow I can still write. It is not poems or dissertations or essays, but here it is time for being brutally honest, whether we want to face it or not and what if I don’t write the best blog or not does not matter to me. This is a journey and things to remember, like baking muffins. This is not over thinking or thinking of dementia all the time. Somehow I have to come to terms with it.

The last few days I keep on seeing in my mind how I could easily make an entrance into a room with confidence, sit down and get down to business. Today I just cannot find it in me to get up and bake some more muffins, because Nita decided to finish hers in one day, which is a big compliment by the way.

Ok, it is time to go and wash the next pot…. one at a time, hope the floor is dry.

Much love and kindness

Saro

How to work on us

Hallo dear friend

Today I want to participate in https://beckiesmentalmess.blog prompts. I hope this url thing will lead you to Beckies blog.

I’m not aiming to write some dissertation or literary blog. I will just write from the heart. Here is the prompt:

When you first found out that you had a mental illness/disorder, what was your first reaction?  Explain, how this new revelation regarding your health affected you?

I have been diagnosed with two mental disorders/illness. The first was Bipolar Disorder. It explained what was happening to me. My first reaction was: Are people going to think I’m crazy? The effects of the ups and downs was devastating, put in aggression and I was convinced that I was crazy, never mind crazy, I was convinced that I was a monster. The effects on my family was terrible and even worse on me. Guilt, shame etc. etc and I am so not going into bipolar. I’m on so many medication now that the bipolar only shows up very mildly. My most precious pill is Dopaquel. It makes me sleep and take the aggression away.. Me and my family actually have a standing joke about it (our coping mechanism is jokes). Whenever we see a really bad person or character on one of our series, my young ladies will say: “Mum, we just take your Dopaquel away for about a week and send you over” Water is coming out my eyes again, so that is enough about bipolar.

The second was Vascular dementia. I have already blogged about this. It was coming on for almost two years before I was diagnosed. The moment the psychiatrist told me the diagnosis, in a sense I felt relieved that now at least I knew what was wrong. It also caused that everything went black for me, I could not see the “light” any future or life forward for me. When the relief of knowing what it was left, I was scared senseless. I felt out of control and scared of what is happening to me and the inevitable, which I’m still unable to say. I told my friend that my life is shortened.

I once saw an image of Snoopy and his friend sitting on a bench. The boy said: “You know we all are going to die one day?”. Snoopy replied: “Yes, but today we live”

Thank you for reading my blog

Much love and kindness

Saro

Black holes and beautiful

Hallo my dear friends.

Today is not a good day. I feel down, don’t know if it is the bipolar or the dementia. It is as if my head just don’t want to work. I’m fed up for my online game that I’m playing. One person that makes me happy today is my friend Omar or Hades108. He is such a good kid and plays with me Dawn of Titans. Or not a kid anymore I think he is 22. I think I’m getting off the topic here.

Yesterday I was doodling on my laptop and the next moment my eldest said that I promised to go make tea and bread. I had no idea what she was talking about or that I promised to do that.

I messed up with taking my medication last night and this morning I think. It gets confusing to know how and when to drink 11 different pills. So my body feels heavy, mind on strike. Just want to stay in bed.

Again off topic. Living with dementia is having black holes in our memories. As you see on the lovely photo I found and finally figured out how to get on my blog, the so called black holes is not really ugly black things. (I am not at all knowledgeable about stars and stuff.) If it is not a picture of a black hole in the galaxy, so what.

I don’t want to believe for one moment that we lose all our beautiful colors once dementia starts eating away at us. Somewhere in us we will still be who we are I desperately want to believe, if a person taking care of you can not see that, try to see the beautiful memory of us. We are still beautiful. Whether it is who we were or still is. I still love and care for others and even myself. Don’t neglect loving yourself, it is not narcissistic to just once in a while look in the mirror and say:”Hello beautiful”

Have to say goodbye now, so see you later beautiful!

Much love and kindness

Saro

The seeking kind.

There are one type of dementia that I have not heard of, but secretly knows about. The seeking kind.

Now the thing is like that. I always carry a handbag. Not just a handbag, but the biggest one you can find. My husband recon I don’t need anything for self defense since I just need to hit someone over the head and that will be the end of any person with evil intentions.

There are however many treasures in it. Hand cream… never used. Hand sanitizer that my youngest young lady deposited in my bag, just for in case I touch something that can go viral. Never used, but it smells great. Wet wipes, but I am so not telling why I need wet wipes. It is part of a small kit my young ladies assembled for me that I have to carry everywhere I go.

A blue carpet knife. My family said I need self defense. The blade seems a bit short and it is lying right at the bottom of my huge handbag, not going to work. How do I tell a robber or evil person to hang on for a minute, I need to find my carpet knife to re arrange his face or fingers or something like that. But let me leave the knife in the bag, I just may need it.

My cellphones. One for use, quite a nice one, Huawei P20 lite. Hmmm I heard Huawei is having some troubles, but my dear head have enough troubles to worry about that one. Then my Dawn of Titans machine, the online game that I’m playing. Some chargers, earphone for just in case. The DOT machine should stay at home, because it does not have wifi or data outside of the house.

Looooong list. Then my darling Boelie, Boerboel likes to stash his hooves and toys also in my handbag.

Then the really sneaky thing, sometimes I need to place stuff in a place, so that I can find it quickly again. It lands up in my handbag. So my family find many things in my handbag. Whenever I start searching, anxiety takes hold of me. You are not going to believe all the things I find in my handbag, specially trouble as well when it is discovered that I stached something away in my bag.

Now my youngest decided to sort me out. She gave me a new bag to use, bigger than the previous one. Sorted everything beautifully and with a plan. Now I really cannot find anything, but the main thing is, my stuff for my Aftercare Centre is in there and that stuff I can find. Then I stole my husbands new bag, also given to him by my youngest and I re purposed it to put my other stuff in. Not going to give a list of that. Now am the proud owner of two bags full of treasures of the most important stuff any person may need.

So now you know about the seeking kind of dementia.

Thanks for reading.

Much love and kindness

Saro