Paging Sumas and old guy I hope that both of you will read this post. It refers to your Caregivers experience in my recent post. I’ll try not to be too wordy. There are many shapes and sizes and attitudes and abilities and especially, modus operandi, that make a Caregiver. My first job was a baby-sitter, hired by my oldest sister and her husband. Five hours for a dollar. I was rich! [[1940) I hired my first Caregiver for Peggy in the summer of 2013. I interviewed 4 women, all in their forties. They were pleasant and seemingly O.K. However, the fourth one got the job. She was five foot seven and about 160 pounds. She had volunteered for the Army Reserves ten years ago and was still in it. What made me choose her was the simple fact that she owned a Harley-DavidsonBike. My thinking was that any woman who could bull a bike around could easily handle my 112 pound Babe. Peggy cannot walk by herself, and she cannot maneuver porch steps, and I cannot get her into our Mini-Van without extreme help. With Lauren, Peggy is a toy. The Gold turned to Platinum in just a few days. The three of us, plus our next door neighbor, Molly Brown, [[87) bonded immediately.Note: Old guy, there is never too little to be appreciated. We have a new neighbor who moved in directly across the street from us. Three times she has come over to remind me that if I need some help, just call her. And I will call her.Sumas: You mentioned Parkinsons Disease. Been there, have that. Tremors in her hands mostly. Muscle rigidity in the right arm and a shuffling gait. She did not want another MRI after the first tumor was excised. Five more MRI’s showed a new tumor and we both agreed, to have no more skullduggery. We have discussed everything, every time, with our Doctor and we always come to a unanimous decision and we feel good about it.At 85? One day at a time.
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