Three films.

In the last week or so I've managed to watch three films about dementia of various types.  This wasn't planned; they just happened to be scheduled by online groups in this timeframe.

One is Still Alice, about a woman with familial early-onset Alzheimer's.  Not a story in my family, but I have a friend who has been diagnosed, as has her sister, so it's something of interest to me.  The online service had some issues but I was able to watch the film, and in joining the discussion suggested that caregivers might want to read Her Final Year, which helped me deal with decisions I had to make.

The other two films focused on performers whose work I admired and enjoyed.  SPARK is a film about Robin Williams and his battle with Lewy Body Dementia.  This is the disease that felled a woman I considered one of my godmothers.  She was diagnosed during her lifetime; he wasn't until after he died.  It was interesting to watch, and heartbreaking.

The final film focused on a performer on whom I had a crush: Gene Wilder.  Remembering Gene Wilder is a biography that gives a fond overview of his career, addresses his marriages, his relationships with co-stars and Mel Brooks, and explains how, in the end, his mind faded with Alzheimer's.

The uncle for whom I was responsible had some form of dementia in the end, so I am interested in the various forms it takes.

Things finished today:  Another book (so I am at 23 of 18 for the year) and a scarf for the Red Scarf Project.

Bavarian Stitch, based upon this pattern.

One of the local groups is collecting at their holiday party on December 9th so they can be mailed to arrive by December 15th.  I should have at least one more done by then, maybe two.  The next one is knitted and I did two inches during tonight's online group get-together.

Feels like a Year.

It's been a difficult few weeks.

I don't usually post about personal things, but in the Spring of 2019 I became legally responsible for my uncle, my father's baby brother, when he fell ill during a trip to the mainland and was diagnosed with both Parkinson's and dementia.  We were lucky he was here, where we could move him into a care facility, and with the help of many people (because Hawai'i, and they do such things) we were able to sell his condo, donate his car and furniture, and get his personal items to the facility for his use.  I ended up being there for a very fast four days to sign things and take care of final matters such as collecting items from his safety deposit box and ensuring all his accounts were closed.

This past July 4th weekend, my uncle took a turn, as they say.  We scrambled to get aides to assist with his care while finding a more supportive facility - and this while COVID-19 numbers soared and places went into lockdown.  Bless my parents, who live near my uncle's facility and did much of the legwork visiting locations and organizing movers, while I authorized and conferred and worried.  My uncle seemed to settle in well to his new home - and then began to fall.

With the assistance of staff at the new care home we've figured out that my uncle may be deciding he needs to go to bed, and instead of calling for assistance simply goes himself.  However, with his physical debility he cannot do it unassisted, and so falls.  They are working out a regime and we may have to move him to the memory care wing much sooner than expected.

And I am doing all of this long-distance, as the family is adamant that I shouldn't travel down there given the COVID-19 numbers.  Mostly the facilities wouldn't let me in, and my parents (who are mostly retired at this point) are happy to help, but it's difficult for me given my sense of responsibility.  So I fret.

I'm writing all this to offer kudos and thanks to a friend for his book, Her Final Year, co-written with another care-giver, where they summarize their families' journeys and decisions.  It's free to download on the first of the month (as are all his books) but worth buying if you need it.

In addition, I haven't seen my grandmother since February 2020 and she is clearly fading, and it breaks my heart.  Tonight a friend is doing one of his bimonthly online concerts, and months ago I started to call my grandmother on those evenings so we can listen to the concert together.  I turn up the speakers and arrange the phone and she enjoys it.  When I type a message that we're listening, he gives her a shoutout and I tease them both about her being a groupie.

Mini-Resolution Report

I managed to sprain my right hand a week or so ago, and that slowed my ability to do needlework.  Luckily I'd finished my niece's bolero, although I forgot to take a photo of the finished item as I was rushing to get to the Post Office.  This is the last one I have, with a closeup:

Not much progress otherwise on UFOs, especially given the difficulty to hold very fine needles.  I did a few rows on the Omega Shawl while "on vacation" via a virtual trip to Antarctica, but I'm in the lace border and that requires too much concentration while attending lectures and landings.  The virtual trip was a lot of fun, I learned quite a lot, and someday I would like to go there for real.  In the After Times.

I'm not going to add anything other than progress on my KnitTalk Q3 Make-Along project, which I started and was able to work on a bit during the virtual trip:

The theme is five, either ounces of yarn or colours.  This shawl should take about five ounces total of Patons Lace in Calypso Coral and Patons Lace Sequin in Smoky Quartz.  It's further along than in the photo but also set aside while my hand heals.