We often hear about winning streaks in sports, but all of us have streaks in our everyday lives. We just don’t keep statistics in the same way. In the first place, we don’t usually categorize the various aspects of our lives. In sports we have such categories as consecutive wins, completed passes, passes without an interception, games with a hit, etc. Even if we did, we don’t go to the trouble of keeping records.
I’m thinking of streaks right now because Kate and I have had a streak of good days for over a week since she got over her cold. She’s still asleep, but I am optimistic that we will continue that streak today. A lot of little things make me feel a day has been good. Her happiness is probably at the top of the list. Something that goes along with that is the nature of our relationship. I work to avoid days when I have to push her to get places. Fortunately, she is good-natured. We work together well. Each of us wants to please the other.
The other day I saw something on Twitter that suggested a caregiver would do well to foster a sense of teamwork between himself and the person for whom he cares. I think that is very much the way Kate and I have worked together. When I push too much, she resists. She has her own sense of time and cannot hurry no matter what. Two days this past week, she had appointments with her ophthalmologist at 11:00 or shortly thereafter. For months, getting up that early has been a problem for her. This week I had no trouble at all. She was very cooperative even though she couldn’t remember why she had to see the eye doctor.
In addition to being cooperative, she is most appreciative. Those qualities are great reinforcers for me since I want to make her life as happy and trouble free as I can. Twice during the night we had experiences that illustrate how well this can go. The first occurred at 10:45 when she got up to go to the bathroom. I got up with her and walked with her. Then I did something that I haven’t done before and won’t do again. I usually wait with her. This time I decided to wait for her in bed. I didn’t expect to go back to sleep before she was finished, but I did. At 11:00, I looked up at the door to the bathroom and noticed that the door was closed. I got up to see if she was still in there. She wasn’t. I found her on the sofa in the family room. She couldn’t have been there long and was still awake. She was very glad to see me and said she didn’t know where to go. I said, “You must have been scared.” She said she was and thanked me. As we walked back to the bedroom, she thanked me again. All of this happened in the span of fifteen minutes, but it was an emotional experience for each of us. Each was glad to see the other, and we were happy as we got back in bed.
She got up a second time just before 6:00. I had just waked up myself and was about to get out of bed. I helped her to the bathroom and got her back to bed. As she always does, she repeatedly thanked me for showing her the way, helping her, and getting her back to bed. As she continues to decline, she is developing a greater sense of dependence on me. Her appreciative response makes me want to do the very best I can to make her life as easy and frustration free as possible.
So, after a string of good days, I don’t see any signs that it should be any different today. I won’t be keeping any statistics. They don’t really matter. What matters is that we are working together to make the very best of a diagnosis that no one wants. We’ve been successful thus far. I plan to keep that in mind as we approach the remaining part of our journey.
