Meaning Persists Despite Seizures

Lynne with her 3 sons

We had two pleasant visits with Lynne in her new memory care floor without the anxiety she had felt earlier in the week. Thursday she was joyous as she recognized and hugged each son. Simon and Christoph spoon fed her lunch. At one point she saw me at a separate  table and smiled, “Oh, my Dad is here too.” On the way down in the elevator, Christoph said, “That’s the best I’ve seen her in quite a while. Friday I joined her to watch a game show on TV. I said, “By the way, I have some brownies for you. She surged forward with a nod of her and said, “Get to it, huh!” We laughed. We walked to the aquarium room with deep armchairs where we sat quietly. I watched her face go through one emotion after another: a light smile, a frown, an emphatic gesture to finish an unrecognizable statement, concentration as she scanned the area, and softening her muscles when she laid eyes on me. I remember loving to watch her emotions surfacing and vanishing across her face as an infant. She looked alert, loved, and relaxed.  I wondered if she enjoyed the companionship as much as I did. I stood up. “I gotta go,” and kissed her on her head. She tipped her head. “OK.”   

Saturday the Head Nurse woke me up at 7:45 am. They found Lynne lying on the floor in her room with a golf ball sized bump on her forehead, blood from a cut on the skin of her nose, and a cracked cartilage in her nose. Lynne probably had an epileptic seizure early that morning.  She had probably laid  there for half-hour before staff found her and put her in bed. The head nurse and the doctors believed she could not break her fall with her  hands because she had an epileptic seizure. Ambulance drivers took her to  Virginia Mason Hospital, during which time they witnessed a second seizure. As Carol and I stood by her in the emergency room that afternoon, she was thrashing in bed to get our the restraining cords on her wrists. Suddenly she yelled in a third seizure which lasted a few minutes while 3 nurses attended to her. Last year Lynne had seizures in June and August, after which doctors prescribed a minimum of Keppra. She had no recurrence for over a year, so we thought it was controlled.

I have read that approximately 10-22% of  patients with Alzheimer’s have at least one seizure. Seizures are more likely to occur with early-onset Alzheimer’s in the later stages. Carol and I saw her Sunday when she was still thrashing against restraints to keep her in bed. We will meet with her neurologist and Lynne’s Head Nurse on Tuesday to consider new prescriptions and their likely side effects.

Monday The VM doctor called me to say Lynne is resting comfortably. She’s pleasantly chatty. Keppra, Lynne’s epilepsy medication to prevent seizures, was seriously below expected levels in her blood stream based on her present dosage. Apparently she had not swallowed the prescribed dosage for unknown reasons. I’ll talk to Quail Park about why. The VM doctor and neurologist have prescribed the next level of Keppra which they believe will avoid future seizures. They will probably discharge her Monday afternoon after arranging delivery details to return her to QP.

We must wait to see how we might be able to care for her in a comfortable, meaningful life without seizures and unpleasant side effects. I am much more encouraged than I was late Sunday afternoon that we can maintain Lynne’s reasonable quality of life for the near future.

Lynne in a Better Place

Nancy & Lynne BFF

On Thursday, September 1, we added sons Herik and Simon to be durable powers of attorney for Lynne. Afterward, we moved Lynne to a new home at Quail Park Memory Care.

Henrik and Simon agreed to be co-DPOAs if I was unable to perform. A Notary had to be convinced Lynne understood the changes and approved of them by signing the documents. I believed she understood and wanted the changes, but wondered whether she could sign the documents. If not, Lynne would have to convince the Notary to sign for her. So I enlisted the help of Nancy, and friend LynnR, to help Lynne get approval and be witnesses. They have had consistent success enlivening verbal statements from Lynne.

I had prepped Lynne the night when we had walked the halls. I asked her, “Do you want Henrik and Simon to have powers of attorney to help Dad take care of you?” She listened but kept walking. Five minutes later I asked her the exact same question, “Do you want Henrik and Simon to have powers of attorney to help Dad take care of you?” She listened but kept walking. I asked her the exact same words after another silence. She immediately said, ”Yes.” I texted Nancy to give her the exact words to use. 

I had wrestled with questions the night before. Could Nancy and Linda get her to the building? Would she sense something and resist? Nancy had told Lynne she would be moving to Quail Park and drove past it. I had promised her night after night, “I was going to get you off this floor.” She always accepted it in silence. Would she resent being in a different setting? Would she miss the staff who had told me for two days they would miss her because she was a caring, active, courageous person?

On Thursday morning Clemens, Simon and I met in Lynne’s room after she had left. Clemons and Simon broke down Lynne’s queen bed for shipment to her cousin.  We loaded all of Lynne’s clothing, teddy bears, dolls, painting, photographs, and toiletries and drove to Quail Park to get there before Nancy and Lynne arrived so we could prepare her room. Lynne had arrived before us. Nancy and LynnR kept her entertained while we hung up her photos, placed dolls and teddy bears on shelves, organized her clothes in her dresser and closet, and hooked up her echo so Alexa could play music for her. 

“Oh, by the way,” Nancy turned around to say. “Lynne signed the documents.” I was ecstatic for Lynne. She was still in control of her life and we had made her feel that. What a glorious satisfying feeling that was for me. 

She ate lunch with Simon and me and then watched a TV program with other residents in the TV nook. After a couple of hours Lynne began to get anxious and aggressive. We called for the Heard Nurse who met with Simon and me about her care. She indicated Lynne was following a normal pattern. A visiting physician would provide advice on medications to continue calming her. The head nurse usually doesn’t recommend family visits soon after the move, but Lynne , so the nurse encouraged us to continue because Lynne welcomed visits from all of us

Today is Monday as I write this and Lynne continues to progress through the ups and downs the head nurse described. Nancy, LynneR and I have had to remind staff Lynne needs puree’ food, medicine crushed in puree or Applesauce, pants that stay on, and pain in left foot from sores. At times she has vigorously resisted help getting clothes on and  going to the bathroom with caregivers she does not recognize. I helped Lynne permit a caregiver to take her shoes and socks off to change her pants because they needed a belt.

Lynne and I rested on a quiet patio Monday afternoon as she sipped on a Starbucks Frappuccino. I said Quail Park was in a quieter neighborhood with less construction equipment, trucks and sirens. Care would be better, the residents on the floor were more tranquil and fewer of them.  She ate a nice full lunch. I walked up the street and bought her a belt for her pants and looser socks for her feet.

Nancy called to say their visit was similar, but Lynne needed new shoes. Then she said, “Oh, and I asked Lynne if she liked it. She said, ‘Yes I like it.’”

Can I Do More?

I continually evaluate my responsibilities as Lynne’s primary caregiver. I want to give her the best possible care with her limited functional abilities in the terminal stage. Our caregiving team of family and friends try to minimize her malnutrition, pain, loneliness, and anxieties.

We have reversed her malnutrition dropping her 114.7 pounds two months ago and raising her to 131.4 pounds on July 22. She weighed 165 when she moved in. She eats double the proportions of meals for sedentary residents, four calory boosters per day and snacks in between. We are taking a blood sample to see if visible winces of pain are caused by nutritional deficiencies and a scan to see if she has fractures in her feet or planter fasciitis.

Visits erase her loneliness so I maximize the times family and friends can be by her side when staff leave her on her own. Caregivers spoon-feed her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, so I visit with a Starbucks Frappuccino after breakfast, cut-up pieces of banana nut bread after lunch, and a cup of ice cream after dinner. She desperately reaches out and rushes to embrace me with outstretched arms amid smiles or sobs. We hug tightly as I whisper in her ear, “I love you, you’re OK now, you’re safe.” She releases her hold and looks me in the face as she holds my arms. She usually wants to sit and eat my treat. She calms down more. We walk up and down the hallways as she grabs and releases my hand over and over.. She no longer responds to photographs, cards, notes, stories, or news about anyone. I talk quietly about family as if she understands. I clip on her fanny pack with her cellphone playing Pandora music lists from family and friends.

I see her as she is: hair disheveled, focused eyes scanning the area with lips sealed, or whispering something to make a point she emphasizes at the end. She turns her blue eyes on me for confirmation, so I agree, “OK, we’ll do it.”, or I’ll take care of it.” She nods as if to say she appreciates my promise. She or I spontaneously laugh, a strong full-bodied laugh and we laugh together and it goes on longer. When we walk

I see her as she was: hosting parties, playing with her sons, climbing steep trails, talking with Karen. I feel as I did when Karen and I sat together at a peaceful time of day, sometimes talking, sometimes quiet, or on walks holding hands. When Lynne and I share dad and daughter love, connected, and without worry, I believe we have the same fulfilling connected life of love we had before her diagnosis. When Karen and I shared our love near her end, I believe we had the same fulfilling connected life of love before her diagnosis. It drives me to visit Lynne often.  

Her friend Nancy and friend LynnR brought her treats and loaded her into a car for nature time walks at Woodland Park. Lynne enjoys them because they bring sunglasses and hats, or what ever. “When we left, Nancy said, “Lynne gave us hugs and then was off to check on other residents.” God bless them. Lynne’s three sons visit her a couple of times a week and describe similar visits.

After 30-45 minutes of my visit, she is calm. I kiss her on her head and say, “Gotta go to work. I’ll be back after lunch.” She says, “OK,” and walks away as I slip away. I always wonder how long she’ll be OK, and whether I could have, or should have, stayed longer. I tell myself I visit her more than most caregivers, but that doesn’t relieve much of pain from her condition.

Visits: Ups Downs & Ideas

Karin Lynne Nancy

These are experiences from recent caregiving with Lynne over the past week, starting from the most recent. They are glimpses into the current caregiving for my ever-loving daughter, Bless you, all of you who care.

A friend who worked at Aegis sent me a card with a favorite story for Lynne. “I loved it when you always stopped at my office when you went looking for your favorite coffee cup.” I have the cup. It is a double sized cup with a message to “slow down, calm down ….” I am showing Lynne the card and the cup when I see her today.

Last night as Lynne and I sat in the lobby after ice cream, I learned my beloved older sister was found on the floor of her house after a stroke. The left sides of her face and arm drooped. They flew her by helicopter to have brain surgery to stop the bleeding. Her daughter is a nurse. She was not worried about her surgery, but was worried about her quality of her life. I told Lynne. She gasped and raised her hand to her face. “Oh no.” The concierge got her upstairs while I called my children. This morning I heard the surgery cleared my sister’s clot. She shows some deficits in her left leg. There is hope for a strong recovery.

At lunch yesterday, I brought Lynne a Starbucks vanilla Cappuccino. She downed it with the rest of her meal.  Staff is trying to keep her seated because she continues to lose weight from her walking. Staff and I reviewed a problem earlier in the week when she did not get her calorie booster because the supply in her apartment ran out. The Med-Tech had not been told how to reorder it. I told him to use the Aegis supply because it is a prescription. That worked, but it did not solve the organizational problem that staff did not know what they were supposed to do. “I told everyone,” said the supervisor. I suggested a sign on Lynne’s cabinet. The head nurse said she will reorder it herself.

When lunch was over, Lynne’s friends, Nancy and Karin, showed up with a large cup of coffee and lifted her out of her chair to take her outside for a walk. She went willingly. They had a hard time keeping up with her because she was ready to go. Good walking, balance, good talking. Lynne told Nancy off a couple of times including, “You go do your own thing.”  

Wednesday, Lynne’s friend Sandy from the neighborhood, walked with me though the Arboretum as she shared some alternatives to visits. She and another friend believe their current visits upset Lynne. She doesn’t recognize them and tells them to go away. Sandy is a speech pathologist who works with people in assisted living. She had some ideas from her experience. Since Lynne has tunnel vision and cannot distinguish details, Sandy suggests we show her a large blossom like a Peony in one hand without a stem. She may be able to hold it briefly. Another idea is to give her something with one of her favorite colors (blue, red) such as a piece of paper or a small pillow. She recommended a small toy breathing dog she has seen soothe one of her patients. I ordered a breathing German Shepard puppy.  Sandy will keep thinking.

Tuesday night Lynne was agitated when I visited her. We walked around the floor as she talked aggressively from random thoughts in her mind.  She pointed at a display of family photographs on the door of a resident. I turned my back on Lynne to look at them closely. I said it was a nice way to decorate her door. She said, “No,” and shoved me toward the door. I was off balance as I stumbled to my right, but she shoved me again so hard I fell backward into a cabinet on the wall. My forearm bled from a gash two-inches long and one-inch wide. I wrestled off her headphones as she walked the other way toward the dining area where staff could care for her. I could not. I slipped away without saying goodbye.

I am grateful for all the support she and I receive. We persist.

Lynne’s Sense of Self

When my mother was in the end stage of Alzheimer’s I believed she was blissfully unafraid behind a veil of ignorance about her disease. She had anosognosia, a symptom of not knowing she had a disease, which is different from denial. Lynne and I had hoped she would have the bliss of ignorance. Yet Lynne has had sixty days of Hospice care during which she has lost weight and trouble chewing food. She is aware she has limitations.

She has a strong sense of self relentlessly driving her behavior with meaning.  She knows she is a sapient body in space with words like “I’, or “me,” or pushing Dad away. The downside is she wants to get her body home. She gets depressed, anxious, lonely.

She also values her virtues as a mother, educator, daughter, sister, colleague. She wields a slightly smug smile when I read her notes from a grade-school teacher, Lynne’s co-teachers, fellow recruiters, neighbors, and fellow graduate students. She glows when she sees her boys, together, towering over her, coming to care for her week after week.  She responds to social communion with others who give her dignity, her worth as a person, valued, included, and not ignored. She feels pride when people compliment her on the streaks of gold in her healthy hair. She shows concerns about residents and embraces caregivers. Friends validate what she is feeling by amazingly walking her through Volunteer Park to eat a donut and people-watch at a market.

Lynne does not have my mother’s ignorance of bliss from Alzheimer’s. She has awareness for which she pays a price. In return she has meaning, dignity, and love confirmed and sustained by those who cherish her.

I hope I would have her valor and similar caregivers to sustain me.

Better Environments Help Lynne

Two friends and I made inexpensive and simple changes in her environment that enriched the life experience of Lynne, my daughter with Alzheimer’s. They enriched me as a caregiver.

Dad arrived. Staff had propped open her apartment so Lynne could walk in and out. One of the residents was chanting loudly repeating a guttural sound in the dining room. His rants have bothered Lynne for months. Lynne was in the hallway past the dining room, bent over, hands on her knees, sobbing. She reached for me and hugged me. I put on her headphones as we headed to the lobby where we could walk through the dining area.  

In the lobby she saw a staff member working in a room where I tried to guide Lynne. She resisted. No, I can’t go in there.

Lynne, it’s OK.

No.  In her room. It’s not going to work.

She thrilled me. The change in meds seemed to make her more alert. We walked toward large leather armchairs where I pulled one in front of the other because her eyesight is limited to tunnel vision in front of her. I sat down. She eventually sat down on the other, face to face. She scanned the lobby, quiet with few people. She watched the cars, buses, and pedestrians. Her blue eyes landed on my eyes, then continues to scan more. She points at a 95-year-old resident with her walker. She’s a really ni … Lynne scooted her chair toward me. I scooted my chair closer, and her eyes brightened up a little bit, with part of a smile. The rapid improvements in her mood came from the change from the environment on her floor compared to the lobby without having to medicate her.

I watch every move as closely as I watched her as an infant, loving her as deeply as I did then, and intrigued by the mysteries going on inside her. Her body twitches slightly in her chest and arms. Her hands have mild tremors. She crosses and uncrosses her legs. Her lips are turned down like the sides of a steep hilltop

I repeated tunes in her headset four or five times if she was tracking the lyrics or the beat. She was thinking about something all the time with a running soliloquy that I did not interrupt. Oh. That’s right. Where? Wow. I remember that. Oh nice. OK. The walk more. (Whispered) I don’t want the …. There’s going to be a big riot, or a fire. Yeah.  I need to go up. There. (she pointed with her finger and stood up.)  Yeah, I think so.

She joined a conversation of two staff members in a standup meeting. When they thanked each other, Lynne said, Yeah, thank you.

I talked with several staff about the problems with furniture in the hallways on her floor because she cannot sit and rest, so she bends over and puts her hand on her knees to relieve the pain. The chairs are too small for her. She is afraid to sit down in them because she has fallen several times when she tried. She tenses strongly when two people assist her into a chair. I have given up trying to get her in my car.

Staff has opened her apartment door to at least let her sit on the bed. I re-arranged her room where she has a big armchair at the end of her bed with blankets and pillows on it. I pushed the armchair to the wall and useda black table chair for the blankets. Now Lynne has an open door to a refuge with a comfy arm chair. I urged a couple of staff to get a sofas or large armchairs in the hallways for resident rest stops. I asked staff on the second floor to check with the concierge if Lynne could wander alone safely in the lobby with healthier residents. She walks out of sight into the nooks and crannies on the second floor.

I am immensely pleased I had the time and the ideas to give her a little better life. I feel more meaningful.

And then I get a call from Nancy today. She and a friend took Lynne outside this afternoon for a fantastic time compared to the sedate visit I had with her. Wait until you read Nancy’s post on this blog about the fun Lynne had in their car, Volunteer Park, a donut shop and the Broadway market. Lynne reportedly commented on the young hunks strolling by compared to obsterorous octogenarians she’s running from. I was humbled and thrilled to hear the excitement from Nancy’s voice.

Visits are Meaningful

Visits witih Lynne can be hard when we see her less vivacious than our cherished memories of her. Understandably people are afraid to visit, including me, when I don’t have a way to cheer her up, so it’s easy avoid it. And yet her condition nags at us because we love her. I have learned that my times, or family times, or friends times, are always meaningful for the visitors, and almost always meaningful for her. They are meaningful for me and others because we tried to give Lynne a better time than she would have had without our visits. Below are stories of simple visits that demonstrate visits are almost always meaningful for her. Lynne told one of her friends told her to go away, so she did, and came back the next day to share a cheerful visit. Imagine how meaningful it was for Lynne’s friend to have the courage to immediately visit again when Lynne was glad to see her.

The good news is Lynne is more responsive and walking more upright since we changed her medications. Last Sunday friend, Lynn, sent me a message. I helped Lynne eat lunch and gave her a cinnamon roll which she ate as we walked outside. We laughed quite a bit and complemented each other on excellent hairdos. She was in good spirits. Obviously friend Lynn was in good spirits about her visit.

Her boys and Pam, my other daughter, saw improvements for an hour-and-a-half lately. She pointed at me and told them. That’s my dad. She pronounced the title on a poster:  Mardi Gras. We sat in the lobby and talked. I called out a to resident close by,  Hello. How many boys do you have? Lynne answered immediately, Five. I have rarely seen visitors with her. She sits with other residents in the lobby. They tell Lynne, You’re lucky. Your dad comes to visit you.  I know those statements make her happy. They make me feel more meaningful.

Today when I met Lynne she was sobbing, tears flowed down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around me, saying, She took it all. She took everything.

Really? Everything?

Yes, everything.

I pulled back and looked her in the eyes. Hon, I was just in your room. She didn’t take it all. It’s all there.

It is? Well OK. I lifted her mood and made me feel meaningful. I put on her headphones and backpack to hear the Sister’s Music list from her sister Pam. Lynne gazed up and nodded her head. She mouthed some words. Her body slightly swayed to the music. I was glad I brought the headphones and Pam sent a list. It kept her mood mellow. Pam and I both feel more meaningful about her music. I am grateful for Pam’s care.

I walked beside her, slipped my hand under hers and left it open. Sometimes she moved her hand away. Sometimes she let our hands touch. Sometimes she grabbed my finger, three fingers, the whole hand. Sometimes a grip. Sometimes gentle. It made her more connected, secure, stable. I felt more meaningful. I steered her up to the 6th, 5th, 4th, 3rd floors and the lobby. She studied photos revolving across television screens on every floor. She often turned to smile at me. We were both getting some exercise. I felt more meaningful. I waved to her when I left her floor before lunch. I felt I improved her feelings for a little while. I felt more meaningful. Don’t let fear keep her from giving her a more meaningful journey.

Lynne Can Have Visitors

Lynne’s Aegis community is open fully for you to visit or take her out. A gentle reminder that all visitors will be required to show proof of receiving a COVID booster prior to entering and masks must be worn at all times please.

Lynne loved the sun on her face and closed her eyes for the sweet dreams she was having on Sunday when her brother and sister-in-law took her for a walk outside, after a long wait.

Hospice & Palliative Care

On Tuesday, January 18, our family enrolled Lynne in Hospice and Palliative Care with Continuum Care of Washington. The goal of palliative care is to help manage Lynne’s pain and reduce the side effects of medication required for her treatment. The goal of Hospice care is to treat Lynne as a whole and manage her symptoms rather than treating Alzheimer’s. Continuum will provide resources for medication management, skilled nursing care, medical supplies and equipment, and spiritual and emotional support. Continuum was recommended to us by the Aegis medical director based on their relationship with Continuum Care for current and former residents.

Lynne will remain in her apartment at Aegis receiving its current hospitality services with the added support from Continuum services already provided to current residents. A Hospice nurse will visit her once a week and a home-care-aide two times per week under the direction of a new primary care physician and liaisons who can assist us when we need more help.  The Hospice nurse and home-health aide know Lynne and are excited to care for her, so Lynne should welcome the continuity in her new plan.

Continuum responded effectively and thoroughly since late last week to complete approvals and assign staff on Tuesday. We are pleased with the extra care Lynne will receive in her current stage and her new team. Continuum prepared a 90-treatment plan based on their current examination and will follow up with a second 90-day care plan, followed by successive 60-day plans.

Continuum accepted her for care because of concern for her weight loss, frequent wide emotional swings, and two epileptic seizures last summer. Continuum hopes their additional services could reverse her weight loss and stabilize her moods to permit taking her off Palliative and Hospice Care. Aegis staff confirmed other residents have been taken off. If Lynne is removed from Continuum Care, it would only be temporary because she is in the last stage of Alzheimer’s.

Lynne’s brother, sister and her boys support the extra services she will receive. Lynne continues to welcome phone calls and cards, and visits when we return to post Covid restrictions.

Still Stumbling over Footcare

Caregiving

New slip on shoes and color matching socks

We are still stumbling forward on her footcare. Last Thursday with her sons Lynne told us her right foot hurt. I took her boot off. When I walked her inside she had put her boot on and zipped it up. She’s persistent and inconsistent. I decided to replace the boots.

Lynne wore socks in her Velcro shoes and brought her boots to the shoe store. When we took her shoes and socks off, the heels and ankles on both feet were bleeding.

The store owner stopped the bleeding and put band aids on both heels and ankles of her feet. The owner refunded the boots because they were inflexible for the foot size she wears. We bought new socks for her black shoes.

I was furious about the bleeding and wrote an email that her foot care is unacceptable.

Pam said bleeding was completely unacceptable. Keith said, “Pops, this isn’t Aegis fault. New shoes and no socks make no sense. Of course, she is going to blister. Wearing socks just needs to be the new standard. She needs comfortable shoes and socks.”

Luna, operations manager, (not her real name) set up a family conference on foot care and medications. Luna acclimated us to the new world of Lynne’s moods. She gets frightened, anxious, aggressive, and angry. Once she gets angry, there is no talking her down. She will not stay alone in her room more than a few minutes. Staff calls to cheer her up with calls to me, friends or family work until she hangs up and reverts, which explains why I‘ve had fewer calls.

She walks constantly around the lobby where she can be observed, or where staff lead her to other areas such as Life’s Neighborhood, outside garden, and sixth floor outdoor patio. She says hello to people she meets. She won’t sit long enough to finish a dinner, so staff give her snacks between dinners. We’ll have to watch her weight. Luna warned us that their plan to eliminate her current medication for a baseline usually takes 30 days, and another 30 days to find a new level. Luna noticed she leans to the left when she walks, which may mean an inner ear infection. She’ll have nurses check on her.

Then Luna reviewed the condition of her feet and shoes. Lynne pulls off her shoes and socks and puts them on perhaps 30 times a day. They can get lost, so Luna says she has a black marker to write the name on the shoes. We need to replace those shoes every 6 months. Luna said the reason Lynne had blood on heels was because she had blisters from wearing the boots without socks for two days and then wearing them other times. The blisters ruptured on Friday when we took her to the shoe store.

Aegis staff, nurse and a podiatrist have checked the pain in Lynne’s foot. A nurse and the podiatrist used a technique of comfortably holding her feet while chatting until she’s distracted before pressing all toes, bones and soles. She didn’t wince either time. The X-Rays did not show any reason to cause pain.  

Pam and Luna recommended we buy slip on shoes for the summer, so Pam ordered the ones she likes at the shoe store. Lynne liked the fit. She also liked how easily she slipped them on and off in the store. Afterward we drove around Lake Washington listening to Bruce Springsteen, which gave her time to take her new shoes on and off often. When we returned, the concierge suggested we put her names in all four shoes. His black marker did not work in her black shoes. So, he used a machine that printed stickers with her name. We pasted them on the leather and edges of the cushion with the hope the stickers will stay on as her shoes come on an off.

Caring for her distress is getting harder. Feeling her in distress is getting sadder. Doing the best we can do as a team makes it easier.