becoming an anchoress
Anchorites ( female - anchoress) were like hermits or enclosed monks but solitary. The anchorite/anchoress lived in an external room attached to an abbey, cathedral or large church. Their task was to have a healing presence. In exchange for food or charitable contributions they listened to the problems of all who came to their window set in the wall that faced the outside world, and agreed to pray for them for set periods of time. There was no "fee" the obligation was on the anchorite/anchoress to pray, day and night, for the "souls" of the parish people with special requests as presented to them. This was their duty and their life.
The anchoress we studied during my Spirituality course was Julian of Norwich. She was a visionary as well and I found her writings very touching. But as a past middle aged woman my spirituality cannot imitate hers. I am older but not as wise, busier and less self-sacrificing and yet I feel that in many ways I am becoming like her, solitary yet attached to the church on one side and the world on the other. It is a strange feeling indeed.
This has been a much more peaceful week than last week. The routine resumed with a few variations. We had someone who was not Jeff on Tuesday. Now I find having someone new and strange coming to shower Ray really cuts off my respite time. The new person wants to know what the routine is, where eveything is, like the padded underwear, the spare clothes, the toiletries. In some ways most of it is glaringly obvious but somehow the new person needs to be walked through it all. None of them understand why Ray is doing the exercises he does. None of them time him properly so the little rascal knows he can bamboozle them, get through them all in ten minutes and sit down to do his puzzles. Fat lot of good that does his shrinking muscles and bandy legs eh?
On Thursday it was Jeff, general rejoicing and off I went for a walk. Came back and stayed home for a while for the social worker from the organisation that provides Ray with Camp Breakaway. He goes there Tuesday till Friday next week. She just needed to update the forms and add the two new tablets Ray takes, the "Flomaxtra" for the "flow" problem and the iron pills for the anaemia. She filled in the forms in about ten minutes which was good. Then Ray and I went off shoppping as usual.
We hit a problem at the shopping centre at lunchtime as Ray had one of his "shove the food around the plate with the fork" times. Usually he loves the seafood omelette we regularly share. It was his favourite next to fish and chips. But this week he just tossed it around. That is when I first thought that soon there will not be excursions like this, soon the effort to get Ray to eat out will outweigh the benefits. It is a sobering thought. At the moment if he is dished up too big a meal at Lions or somewhere else I just divert some of the food to a bread and butter plate or somewhere else, cut up the rest into tiny pieces and he eats it. Naturally he has been sick a couple of times and had a few coughing fits but generally he just eats slowly until he is finished. He doesn't sit and play with his food.
He has some new ways that seem to indicate that the dementia is deepening again. He doesn't answer sometimes when someone is talking to him, just stares straight ahead. I know it is not his hearing, I don't think it is because he dislikes the person or even that he just can't answer the question. I think it is more like a widening gap between what is said and him formulatting an answer and replying to what is said. He seems slower in a lot of ways. I am finding it more time consuming to do something like getting ready to go out, getting him out of bed and dressed, him having breakfast or a simple snack. The morning tea is more likely to be only half drunk and stone cold in the cup rather than him drinking it and enjoying it.
Today again it was not Jeff. The person today was a small, past middle aged woman who seemed a bit flustered. She kept telling me she had had lots of experience in nursing homes. I stayed on for twenty minutes or so after she came but she seemed okay so I went off about my Friday morning business. It is a bit of a worry though leaving someone new with Ray for three hours. He doesn't get respite next week as he will be away Tuedsday to Friday so I will see if Jeff turns up the week after. If not then I will ask for a review of hours and treatment levels etc. I will remind the supervisor Ray has dementia and can't cope with change and say I expect to have at least the same person a couple of times a week...sigh.
So as Ray is less easy to get out and about, as he fights change and clings to what is old and familiar I expect that it will be harder for me to get out in the world as much as I am able to now. That is when I shall become an anchoress. Only my anchor will be not to the church but to the house, and the outside world will become the little cyberspace I occupy here and links like the telephone, bringing the outside in.
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