Wellness
Gilly slept soundly in ‘his’ chair until about 5:00 A.M. this morning with music from the seventies serenading him in the background. I silently checked on his status on several occasions, and determined that he was comfortable sleeping in a seated position. The chair is practically the same one as he has at home in Montreal. He took possession of it last Sunday night, and has not given it up since.
Liylah always remains downstairs with Gilly until he comes upstairs to bed. Then she sprawls out on the sleeping bag we use as a makeshift bed in our room until someone (almost always me) awakens and moves downstairs.
Our day consisted of eating and walking, then eating and walking again. Liylah provided us with a welcome diversion. Gilly adores watching her repeatedly and energetically chase the waves. He spent a great deal of the early afternoon out of doors sitting on the porch (too cool for the dock in his estimation; admittedly, there were white caps on the lake, adding more waves than usual for Liylah to bite).
Liylah met the children next door for the first time, and they became fast friends. She is very popular on the point. We hear her name being called from all directions. She dashes off to greet anyone who approaches, but always returns, preferring to remain close to us. We cannot get over what an amazing creature she is.
It’s a good thing we were here last week to bring in the water sample; our well failed the test. I felt a little melancholy upon hearing the news, because whenever the well water failed the test (for the past 24 years), Gilly would go down into the well, clean it, and then pour Javel inside to kill the bacteria (it’s a whole procedure). This was clearly not a job for Gilly today; the top alone weighs too much for most people to lift, let alone someone whose strength is depleted, so my mother called a ‘well specialist.’ It turns out that the innards are cracked and some major work needs to be done (which Gilly could not have done anyway, even at the best of times). I think Gilly felt badly at first, but when he heard the verdict, realized he hadn’t shirked his responsibilities afterall.
This is one of many examples of work Gilly did around here in the past. The country house has been cared for by Gilly with dedication and diligence for 24 years now. The day I first brought Gilly to the country to meet my parents, in the winter of 1982, my father mentioned that there was a flood in the attic. Gilly rolled up his sleeves and together they solved the problem; it was love at first sight for Gilly and my dad (as it was for us a few weeks earlier).
Emotionally, it must be tough for Gilly, knowing he is unable to keep up his usual maintenance of the house. The house is filled with evidence of Gilly’s handiwork; repairs, inventive creations and woodwork. Many moons ago, he fixed the microwave (which we still use to this day) by doing a ‘bypass’ as my father termed it. He loved to brag about his son-in-law’s ingenuity by telling this story. Gilly acknowledges and admits he cannot do the work (at least for now), which seems to be in direct contradiction to his character. For Gilly it is a truthful confession; for us, terribly difficult to accept.
His right hand is really tied. He used to wield tremendous power as he skillfully manipulated many a tool. Yaron loved to beg his dad to make a muscle, because he had an extra bump which had formed as a result of tightening locomotive pistons. You don’t see this muscle on the arms of most people. He was exceptionally strong. The physiotherapist measured his right arm strength the other day, and it is half as strong as his left. Right arm weakness, coupled with distorted vision makes it next to impossible to complete even the simplest task, such as using tongs to lift green beans out of the pot at dinner.
I asked Gilly what’s the most important thing to put on the blog tonight and he answered, “Just say I’m not feeling very good.” I requested further clarification and he mentioned the fact that everything tastes the same. I brought some meat from Akhavan to Bar-B-Q for him tonight, knowing that, of late, he prefers their tasty marinades. He took a bite or two and refused to eat the rest, saying his taste was off. He tried some steak, but he could not eat much of that either. All he ate were vegetables (luckily there was a wide variety on the table). I’m glad he lapped up today’s smoothies with gusto. At least I know some protein was consumed.
Gilly spent a great deal of time sitting in the chair doing absolutely nothing (no T.V., no music…just sitting) late this afternoon, and continued in the same vein after his poor excuse for a dinner. A warning light went on in my head and I became a little frightened. I wondered if perhaps I should up the dose of Decadron (as Dr. Kavan had suggested, if I noticed sleepiness); he mentioned feeling weak, and fell asleep at around 8:00. I woke him to check on his condition (which I normally avoid doing unless greatly concerned) and he assured me he’s alright. My mother wonders if he’s worn out from too much walking. Gilly piped in, agreeing with this explanation. Perhaps the country air and an increased level of exercise caused his late day lethargy. I’ll sleep with one and a half eyes open tonight to ensure that this theory is accurate. He has since turned on the T.V. and is busy selecting and reselecting channels…just checked again; out for the count. It’s 10:30 P.M., so I see no need to worry at the moment.
Tomorrow is another day, and may his slumber help to restore his energy. I feel strongly that the exercise regime must continue; it’s in his best interest. Perhaps we’ll try to walk short distances more often. I’ve recently learned to offer smaller meals with frequent snacks in between. It’s an education and a half! I feel as though I’m the eager beaver sitting at the front of the class; I want to pay close attention and absorb every detail.
Liylah always remains downstairs with Gilly until he comes upstairs to bed. Then she sprawls out on the sleeping bag we use as a makeshift bed in our room until someone (almost always me) awakens and moves downstairs.
Our day consisted of eating and walking, then eating and walking again. Liylah provided us with a welcome diversion. Gilly adores watching her repeatedly and energetically chase the waves. He spent a great deal of the early afternoon out of doors sitting on the porch (too cool for the dock in his estimation; admittedly, there were white caps on the lake, adding more waves than usual for Liylah to bite).
Liylah met the children next door for the first time, and they became fast friends. She is very popular on the point. We hear her name being called from all directions. She dashes off to greet anyone who approaches, but always returns, preferring to remain close to us. We cannot get over what an amazing creature she is.
It’s a good thing we were here last week to bring in the water sample; our well failed the test. I felt a little melancholy upon hearing the news, because whenever the well water failed the test (for the past 24 years), Gilly would go down into the well, clean it, and then pour Javel inside to kill the bacteria (it’s a whole procedure). This was clearly not a job for Gilly today; the top alone weighs too much for most people to lift, let alone someone whose strength is depleted, so my mother called a ‘well specialist.’ It turns out that the innards are cracked and some major work needs to be done (which Gilly could not have done anyway, even at the best of times). I think Gilly felt badly at first, but when he heard the verdict, realized he hadn’t shirked his responsibilities afterall.
This is one of many examples of work Gilly did around here in the past. The country house has been cared for by Gilly with dedication and diligence for 24 years now. The day I first brought Gilly to the country to meet my parents, in the winter of 1982, my father mentioned that there was a flood in the attic. Gilly rolled up his sleeves and together they solved the problem; it was love at first sight for Gilly and my dad (as it was for us a few weeks earlier).
Emotionally, it must be tough for Gilly, knowing he is unable to keep up his usual maintenance of the house. The house is filled with evidence of Gilly’s handiwork; repairs, inventive creations and woodwork. Many moons ago, he fixed the microwave (which we still use to this day) by doing a ‘bypass’ as my father termed it. He loved to brag about his son-in-law’s ingenuity by telling this story. Gilly acknowledges and admits he cannot do the work (at least for now), which seems to be in direct contradiction to his character. For Gilly it is a truthful confession; for us, terribly difficult to accept.
His right hand is really tied. He used to wield tremendous power as he skillfully manipulated many a tool. Yaron loved to beg his dad to make a muscle, because he had an extra bump which had formed as a result of tightening locomotive pistons. You don’t see this muscle on the arms of most people. He was exceptionally strong. The physiotherapist measured his right arm strength the other day, and it is half as strong as his left. Right arm weakness, coupled with distorted vision makes it next to impossible to complete even the simplest task, such as using tongs to lift green beans out of the pot at dinner.
I asked Gilly what’s the most important thing to put on the blog tonight and he answered, “Just say I’m not feeling very good.” I requested further clarification and he mentioned the fact that everything tastes the same. I brought some meat from Akhavan to Bar-B-Q for him tonight, knowing that, of late, he prefers their tasty marinades. He took a bite or two and refused to eat the rest, saying his taste was off. He tried some steak, but he could not eat much of that either. All he ate were vegetables (luckily there was a wide variety on the table). I’m glad he lapped up today’s smoothies with gusto. At least I know some protein was consumed.
Gilly spent a great deal of time sitting in the chair doing absolutely nothing (no T.V., no music…just sitting) late this afternoon, and continued in the same vein after his poor excuse for a dinner. A warning light went on in my head and I became a little frightened. I wondered if perhaps I should up the dose of Decadron (as Dr. Kavan had suggested, if I noticed sleepiness); he mentioned feeling weak, and fell asleep at around 8:00. I woke him to check on his condition (which I normally avoid doing unless greatly concerned) and he assured me he’s alright. My mother wonders if he’s worn out from too much walking. Gilly piped in, agreeing with this explanation. Perhaps the country air and an increased level of exercise caused his late day lethargy. I’ll sleep with one and a half eyes open tonight to ensure that this theory is accurate. He has since turned on the T.V. and is busy selecting and reselecting channels…just checked again; out for the count. It’s 10:30 P.M., so I see no need to worry at the moment.
Tomorrow is another day, and may his slumber help to restore his energy. I feel strongly that the exercise regime must continue; it’s in his best interest. Perhaps we’ll try to walk short distances more often. I’ve recently learned to offer smaller meals with frequent snacks in between. It’s an education and a half! I feel as though I’m the eager beaver sitting at the front of the class; I want to pay close attention and absorb every detail.
posted by Gilly at 9:49 PM
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