from the porches

Tragicomedy

Susan and Clay and I visited Truett this afternoon before I dropped Susan off at the airport for her to fly back to England.  Our visit with Truett today fits into the definition of tragicomedy as defined by the free Merriam-Webster Dictionary. 

 

                                                        

We walked into Truett's room, room 307 on the Alzheimers/Dementia ward.  Truett was eating his lunch.  He was dressed and pleasant.  But, one thing was different.  He has a roommate now.  His roommate had completed his meal of turkey, dressing, green bean casserole, and pumpkin pie.

Then the roommate rose from his bed with his slacks hanging to his knees . . . and no underware to boot.  Clay left the room and Susan left to tell the nurse that the roommate's buttocks were completely exposed.  In the meantime, the roommate walked up to Truett's bed and muttered something.  "Go over there," I told him and pointed to his bed.

                                                                

Meanwhile, Truett kept eating . . . but then looked up.  "What does he want?"  Truett asked as the roommate dropped his slacks, stark naked from the waist down.  I tried not to look.  I didn't want to look but this man had his hands on Truett's food tray pulling it toward him.  "Let go!"  I shouted.

"What does he want?"  Truett asked again and I signed,  "Your food!"

"Well, get him out of here.  Tell him to go away."

 

 

 

Luckily, about that time, two nurses rushed in the room and I shouted, "That man is trying to steal Truett's food!" 

The nurses surrounded the roommate and stated,  "You  know you have to have your pants pulled up!" and ushered the roommate to his bed, drew the curtains, pulled his pants up and brought him a grilled cheese sandwich and Truett only got goodbye kisses from us.  

So much for such tragic situations with a little humor mixed in...a tad disgusting, but I couldn't have made this up.      

Brain/stroke

I am reading the most fascinating book entitled My Stroke of Insight by Jill Bolte Taylor, Phd.  (Sorry, I tried to insert information, but my computer froze.)  Dr. Taylor is a brain scientist and this book tells of her stroke and her journey in overcoming the stroke.

Parts of the book are so overwhelmingly left-brained and detailed with vocabulary I do not understand, so I skimmed over those parts.  What I did find interesting is that any hemmoraging on the brain is classified as a stroke.  Dr. Taylor was very left-brained just like Truett.  Analytical, compartmentalized, etc.  When her stroke happened, the only thing she was left with was her right hemisphere of the brain trying to compensate for words she couldn't recall, for details, etc.

As Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor takes us through her journey through rehabilatation, she was asked to repeat three words several minutes after other questions were asked of her.  She had difficulty, just as Truett did.  She could not recall facts because the left hemisphere of her brain was embedded with blood.  Her right hemisphere allowed her to see pictures, even though her speech was impeded.  I remember Truett being asked to repeat words or to tell the rehab workers what time it was; and he had difficulty with this time and again. 

Even though Truett had a tumor rupture, blood spewed onto his analytical, left hemisphere of the brain.  I kept saying, "He didn't have a stroke."  But the doctors categorize blood on the brain as a stroke.

When Dr. Taylor was asked who was President, she tried desperately to see from her right hemisphere a picture of the President; although she couldn't remember his name because that came from the left hemisphere, the compartmentalized analytical hemisphere.  Truett was asked many times during rehab, "Who is President?"  He tried hard to remember; but guess what.  His right hemisphere only saw a picture of an African American, even though he didn't remember the President's name.

My Stroke of Insight, by Jill Bolte Taylor is a must read for anyone who has lived with a stroke victim. 

http://www.mystrokeofinsight.com/index.html

By the way, Dr. Taylor got into brain research because her brother was diagnosed a schizophrenic.  Another similarity at one time in our life.

Go Gators!