Year 2021 Recap

Last June I started weekly reviews of what happened ten years ago, when Cindy and I walked across the country.  With Cindy going on her third year of hospice there was little new going on in the present, while the journey needed retelling with an open inclusion of what was going on with Cindy at the time.  Here is a recap of what has been happening in the present over the past seven months.

Little has changed with Cindy.  On the plus side her appetite, skin condition and oxygen levels continue to be excellent.  On the negative side she continues to experience minor seizures at about the same, almost monthly rate.

The two further declines since June have been increased incidences of wheezing and coughing fits.  Some type of stress causes the wheezing, while an excess of drool pooling in the wrong places causes the coughing fits.  The fits only last for about a minute or two, but that was enough to cause the hospice volunteer to stop visiting.  She was afraid Cindy might pass away during her watch, but that was four months ago now.

At the start of last year I resolved to find more coverage, in order to work on more projects, in order to preserve my brain health and maintain my role as a caregiver.  During the spring I took the steps for that to happen, during the summer it did happen, but during the fall “the best laid plans” fell apart.  I, in fact, had less coverage in the fall than I did a year ago.

Still, I have been able to move along with the symphony I composed about our walk across the country that I am currently retelling.  In the summer I gave a concert with my live guitar and sythesized music to the neighborhood from our porch; in the fall I gave one at the church; both as preparation for this coming May 24, tenth anniversary of when we finished that journey.  The church performance left some members of the audience in tears.

The Yale Summer School of Music will premier the symphony on the 24th, but this is before the music school officially opens.  I recently found a conductor for that performance; I now have to compile the live orchestra, hopefully by February.  When I know for certain whether I will be performing at Yale with a live orchestra or with synthesized music, and if covid allows the concert to be performed at all, I will announce the ticket sales.

For the coming year I anticipate Cindy’s condition to remain steady.  The mornings of holding her in my lap, the days of “dancing” with her and reliving our ADT journey, and the evenings of kissing her good night, should help continue her will to live throughout the year, despite being fully incapacitated and bedridden.  We experimented with driving Cindy to our daughter Charissa’s place last summer and we may do more of those types of field trips this coming summer.

I anticipate coverage will pick up for me again on a more permanent basis.  I have one person committed to Sundays and has been very reliable so far.  Promise for some evening coverage each week looms around the corner as well.  I hope to do what I planned for last year, expand the projects I am working on for the sake of my well-being.  I also hope, covid willing, to get out and socialize more, perhaps embark on some common hobbies with others, particularly hiking.

Our cats will be gone this coming year, going back to their original owner, our daughter Charissa.  She got them as kittens while we were walking across the country, now going on eleven years ago.  Charissa left them here as therapy for her Mom, but while Cindy has been in hospice care the living room has become our bedroom, with the cats kept outside a gate.  Since then the cats have been relatively deprived of the attention they crave (yes, these cats are like dogs); our granddaughter Lyla should remedy that problem once they arrive at their new home. (Photo below is over 5 years old).

That catches you up to the present here in the Icebox.  May your New Years be filled with hope as well.  Now back to our regular programming, the weekly reports on the ADT journey ten years ago.