The Mirror Reflects on Delirium, Encephalopathy, Dementia and Alzheimer’s

I probably could have added some other words to describe these, such as crazy. It is not politically correct to use that word, but when someone has any of these ailments it is how they feel. Sometimes their loved one’s feel the same having to deal with them during any of these. While they are all different ailments, they all have something in common. The person who has any of these becomes disoriented. When true reality and what is happening in the mind cross paths it leaves mixed up reality. With each of these there are similar symptoms.

I know more than I care to admit about all of the above. I did not look up the definition for each, as from what I have seen they are similar. Below are some of the symptoms of what I have witnessed of each lumped together:

Generalized or complete confusion. Not knowing what is happening, if it is real or in the mind, they may realize it or they may not know it is happening. They may forget who a person they have known most of their life is. They may think the person they have known most of their life is someone else. This could be someone they love or someone they do not like. If reading or watching TV, what they have read or seen may mix with the real world and they think that what they have read or seen is in their world. They may hallucinate. They may get angry, wanting to fight. They may get scared, afraid of everything, even themselves. They may not know who they are. They may not know where they are, what day or year it is. They may not know anything. Sometimes they revert back to childhood ways, which they usually do not realize. They may say things that they normally would not. Some of the things they say may be racial, sexual or somehow inappropriate. For the caregiver this symptom is extremely frustrating, because when you try to tell someone who does not know them, they will think the person always acts like that and you are just saying something to not anger or insult them.

To someone who is suffering from any of the disease’s I mentioned above and is aware they are having these symptoms, it must be scary. To not know what is real or what is in the mind. Sometimes when the person comes out of an episode, they are left with the feeling that whatever they thought while having the episode is still present or took place in some way. They must fear whether they can tell the difference between what is real and what they perceived or have felt is real. Most will act like everything is normal when they come out of an episode for fear of judgement, people questioning their sanity or even themselves questioning their sanity. Many people who suffer from these illnesses will come out of an episode and remember every detail, no matter how small. While their mind tells them it was not real, another part of the mind thinks it is because of the detail. It becomes a battle for the person to know what is real and what is not. Even then, some will think that whatever happened in their episode really did happen, that it was not a hallucination or dream but will keep it to themselves.

For those who suffer from any of the above and are not aware ever, it must still be scary. People they knew or trusted, they no longer know, yet alone trust. Everyone becomes a stranger. Reality is something so far removed they do not know what it is. They too try to act normal, as though they are aware. They may think they are living in the past and everyone and thing they see is somehow connected to that past or that everything/everyone has no connection. This is especially true, from my experience with Alzheimer’s. My grandmother on my father’s side had it. I would go to visit her once a week, she always told me it was nice for a stranger to come visit her. She always wanted to go home, even though she was in her home. The home she wanted was the home in her memories, no longer there. She seemed completely unaware that she had any mental type problem, she too tried to hide how she felt as though that would make everything okay. In the end she had to go to a skilled nursing facility that handled Alzheimer’s. She ultimately died from a stroke, but she was given very good care up until the end.

My grandfather on my mother’s side had dementia, though everyone said he was senile. He came to live with us after my grandmother died, before he had become swallowed by dementia. With dementia came many of the symptoms listed above. Because I was younger and had not seen anyone with these symptoms, it could be at times embarrassing when he was around my friends. They did not understand either, but always showed concern and were kind to him. He did not want to go to a nursing home. My mother would call an ambulance every few days as he thought he was dying and wanted to get to the hospital. Finally the hospital told my mother she had to put him in a nursing home as every time my grandfather had her call EMS someone else might be in critical condition and they needed to take care of those in need, not those who wanted to be at the hospital. It was arranged that the next time she called for an ambulance they would take him to the nursing home and tell him it was a hospital and he would stay. At first he was very happy there, but when he found out it was a nursing home, he refused to get out of bed and died not long after. My mother felt guilty until the day she died that she had put her father in a nursing home. But she had no choice. It is hard to tell someone who has a loved one that suffers from any of the ailments above that end up having to put their loved one into a skilled nursing facility or nursing home, that it is for the best. For my grandfather, it was. It may not be for everyone who suffers from these illnesses, but for some it is the only choice.

My father had cancer that was not curable. He was given 2 to 3 months to live after it was diagnosed. My mother brought in hospice about a week before he died, while caring for him herself most of the time. He died 2 months after the diagnosis. My siblings do not like that hospice was brought in. They feel guilt. As for my mother, she would develop dementia nine years later. She too would say inappropriate things, things she would never say if she were in her right mind. She would have been embarrassed if she had realized the things she said. It was hard. She had other health issues. My siblings wanted to bring her home from the nursing home that she was in after a fall. While on my last visit, I must have sounded cruel when I told them the rest of her life would be going from nursing home to the hospital and back. That they knew very little about health issues and they could not give her the care she needed. The words would come back to haunt me, as last February I realized that my husband’s life would be going from home to hospital until he died. The one common thread we all have is, we wanted to take care of our loved ones alone, at home.

My husband suffered from all of the symptom I listed at times. While he had a touch of this when he first became ill, the antibiotics he was given helped take the symptoms away in a day or two. When it first started for real, he was at a skilled nursing facility for rehabilitation after surgery for a 2 or 3 week stay. The nurses all said he had “institutional delirium” or the medication was causing his delirium. I did not think either were his problem. I did think that both made the problem worse. I called one of his specialists and they saw him the next day. They too knew something else was wrong. It was discovered he had an overactive thyroid that was causing the delirium. But there were other tests done. A CT scan, PET scan, MRI, EEG and a few more. Each of these showed signs of early onset dementia and early onset Alzheimer’s. The teams of doctors did not think those were his problems luckily. After the overactive thyroid was handled and he came home, he was normal, he was on prednisone. When his thyroid went back to normal, the prednisone was tapered. That is when the encephalopathy and delirium truly took hold. I could not leave him alone. There were times he tried to escape, thinking he was not in his home. He was truly experiencing everything I listed above and more. There were many trips to the ER. In the ER some doctors did not know him and quickly diagnosed dementia and Alzheimer’s. Luckily his regular doctors did not. Though it was not his normal doctors that realized what helped these episodes. After one of his many visits to the ER I realized that each time we arrived they gave him one shot of a type of prednisone and he became normal. After one hospitalization he was sent home on a higher dose of prednisone meant to taper off. When I began the taper he became confused again. I gave him the higher dose the next day and he was back to normal. So I called the doctor. He was sent to a neurologist who ran over 1,000 tests. This neurologist was not going to just give up and give an easy (wrong) diagnosis, thankfully. He promised me he would never give up and would find out what was causing these problems. My husband had a post traumatic stress autoimmune disease from his illness. His body no longer knew what was healthy and what was not. Luckily it was controlled with prednisone, but prednisone is not meant to be taken at large doses for a long time. There are other medications and they found one that worked after a few tries, though the prednisone was not tapered. Even though the medication worked, it did not all the time. The neurologist explained, in illness or during stress he would have episodes. My husband remembered most if not all of his episodes, when I would bring it up, he always told me he wanted to tell me when he was better everything he had felt and thought were real, that it was beyond comprehension. I never got to hear what he wanted to tell me, but I have a feeling I know most of it. My husband died before the prednisone taper could begin. He also had become very ill. He was back in the hospital when the doctor told me he needed to go to a Hospice Home. While my husband agreed and knew he was going, it was still hard. I was the one who always cared for him and I knew he would have preferred to be home. I must say that hospice gave him much better care than I ever could. Yet there still is that nagging feeling for not bringing him home, for letting him go to the Hospice Home. I slept there in a couch that turned into a bed or the recliner beside his bed for most of the 7 nights he was there. I knew he was dying, but he had beat death so many times in the past few years. The hope was in me he would beat death once again. It was not until I returned home after his funeral that I felt a twinge of guilt for not bringing him home. But the reality and rational part of my brain knows he had the best care he could have. Not having to care for him gave time for moments that I will remember for life. His days were still mostly confused, but he had moments of clarity in between, those are the ones that bring a smile to my face. Though I do not feel guilt, I still have sad feelings my husband ended up at Hospice. One other thing I still feel, the need to fight for him. I spent so much time fighting for him when he could not, it is a feeling that does not go away. It makes me feel useless, even though I know it not to be true. I used all my energy to learn how to fight for him, while forgetting how to care for myself. Now, I must learn to care for myself again. I was always independent, now I must find that part of me again and put it to use rebuilding my life. I do not like to tell my husband’s life story, I think it was his to tell. He did not care, he thought telling others might help. So I have not broken any confidence he put in me.

One of the hardest parts in dealing with a loved one who has any of these symptoms is, as their advocate you are making decisions on your own. You cannot ask them what they want. You cannot commiserate in bad times or rejoice in happiness together. You are alone. Even if you have family to help, you are still alone. You want to have the ability to snap your fingers and have things go back to normal. In my case, my husband was able to become normal but still had episodes. Even in his normal periods, he was not quite himself. I think some of that was fear or what he would say or do. I wonder when the person afflicted with one of these illnesses looks in the mirror do they see reality or do they see an alternate reality? Or maybe something else, maybe nothing. I would like to say I found a way to handle this, to some degree I did. But since I am being honest, it was much harder than I could ever explain. One thing I did know to do was to find something in the room, whether it be a sign, clock or just the wall color and have my husband look at it over and over, then tell me where he was. This helped when on rare occasions I came home and he would call not knowing where he was. Sometimes this happened at home. It seemed effective. That I was able to care for him during these periods surprised even the doctors and nurses. I wish I could give advice on how to handle someone with one of these ailments, but we all deal with things differently. I am just trying to shed light on what the caregiver may feel.

This too was started earlier to be finished sooner than now. I wanted to give some specifics of what both the caregiver and loved one might go through with these symptoms and ailments. That prednisone worked for my husband does not mean it would work for someone else. What I am trying to convey is not to give up. To continue to fight if you think the diagnosis is wrong. It may be correct, but all other illnesses should be ruled out first. Do everything you can to learn of the illness to help. Make sure to take care of yourself.  Forgive yourself for what you cannot do. If you come to the point where your loved one needs skilled nursing or hospice, you should not feel bad. My only reason for this blog is if I can help one person to have it a little easier and get the correct diagnosis, it is worth reliving some painful moments.


Excuses and More Excuses Staring at me from the Mirror

I started writing this some time ago so it has been edited and finished to catch up to how my life is going. Today I thought I would finish this. Not because my life has gone back to normal, rather there are one or two more blogs I want/need to write. An update on my widow friends. The one whose husband died almost 2 years ago is trying very hard (some might say too hard) to get on with life & make new friends, but still having bad days. The one whose husband died last March just got rid of her husbands clothes and is not ready to move forward yet, though she still has her faith & her church. I am behind them in time and also in my movement towards the future and the normalcy of life. I have no time-table for when I will be normal, I do not think anyone could say when my time will come, or if it will ever come. My only thought is that it would be nice to at least to start to live my life, not just exist in my life.

It has been almost 10 months since my husband died. I have not accomplished much. Yes, I have cleaned the house and donated my husbands clothing & other things. But at some point I got either tired of cleaning or just thought I had done enough for the moment and would start again, later refreshed. At least that is the excuse I told myself. Now, the clutter I cleaned has begun to pile up again. Not as bad, but with nothing to do, my house should be clutter free and spotless clean.

There are many excuses I have been telling myself. Do I tell myself thinking I am somehow fooling myself? That the mirror reflects that these are legitimate excuses? I know some are. But too many excuses I think are coming from my having a hard time getting on with my life without my husband. I need to figure out a way to realize what excuse is legitimate and what excuse is just that, an excuse. An excuse not to live life.

Since I had started writing this, I have been trying to find at least one thing a week that I have been making excuses for and try to accomplish it. I had put off getting routine blood tests for fear of catching the flu…that is a legitimate excuse, even my doctor agreed with me. I am sure there was a part of me that put it off because of the fear I have walking out the door, but the main reason was flu season. I went 2 months ago. All is fine with my blood work. There was a part of me that worried the tests would show I was pre-diabetic, due to not eating correctly and also forgoing dinner for dessert. Luckily this was not the case. That is one example of a small accomplishment even with an excuse thrown in.

I have put off many things with excuses. I am accomplishing getting at least one thing done a week that I have made excuses for. That does not sound like a lot and if I am honest with myself, it is nowhere near enough. It might be the best I can do at this point, or it might just be me, making yet another excuse. But I have to start somewhere. I have to find where legitimate excuses start and excuses I make up start without realizing it. This sounds like another excuse, but this one I think is legitimate, knowing an excuse is legitimate will make me push harder to get past the excuse.

I think just walking out the front door will always be an excuse for me not to go out. To some that might sound stupid. But the fear of panic attacks stop me in my tracks as I try to walk out the door. It seems since my husband died, every day is a hard day to walk out the door. I have had days where I walk out even though the dreadful feeling is alive and well. In the past, when I went out on days like this, I was okay after I got out and to where I needed to go. I am not finding that sense of comfort when I go out on days the fear is alive and well. But I am going anyway. Not all the time, but I am trying. I think my fear of walking out the door is somewhat legitimate, if I have a day where I put off today what can be done tomorrow. But it should only be a day here or there, not my normal routine. I have to forgive myself when I fail, while promising myself I will try harder next time.

My friend who is the widow that is making new friends has been asking me to join the group of women she has become friends with. They go to different places, sometimes each others homes, sometimes to events. I find myself making excuses for not going. She understands, she has been where I am. One of my excuses is that everything is too far away (she lives about an hour & 1/2 away), which is not really a legitimate excuse all the time, it might be at times when it is a holiday weekend or some other reason that would have a lot of traffic on the road. Another excuse, I am not ready to make new friends…if I make new friends they will expect friendship all the time, not just when I am in the mood. My widow friend understands this as she did not want to make friends when her husband had just died, as I mentioned it is only now she is making new friends. Is it a legitimate excuse? I do not know, I only know that I am not ready to make new friends that live far away. I wonder if my excuses are valid.

I have a cousin I have never met that lives about 10 miles away from me. She is more than ten years older than I am. Age is not the problem for me.  Rather, she is a lot like a sibling of mine who calls all the time, worried about me. Though I have never met this cousin, we do email and are friends on Facebook. After I reached out to her (I should not have but did not think it through), my husband was dying at the time, I regretted it. But I knew she had been wanting to meet me and become close as we are the only two that live in the state. The day after I contacted her through Facebook and email, she had emailed me over 6 times as well as at least 6 messages on Facebook. She had our lives planned out. My husband & I would spend all the holidays at her house, go to church together, you name it, she planned it. It took me 2 or 3 weeks to finally tell her my husband was dying and I had no time for her. Now she is still emailing and messaging wanting to meet. She tells me that no one can believe she has a relative so close and has never met her. Yes, I have an excuse for not wanting to meet her. My sibling is so overbearing and this cousin seems to be the same…I am not ready to have 2 people overstepping their bounds with me…and this one would live close, my sibling lives far away. I just am not ready to meet her. Just yesterday she emailed me again that we NEED to go to church together this weekend. I am an adult, I do not need someone to tell me what I need. I know I have to meet her and part of me really wants to. I just have a big problem with someone who wants to rule my life, that includes my sibling. At least with my sibling I can tell her off, but this cousin I do not know well enough, it would hurt her feelings if I were not so nice. Is this excuse valid? I do not know. I do know for now I am not ready to have another overbearing relative in my life. I will meet her one day and we will probably get along well, but for now I am not ready.

Those were a few examples of where I am at in this process called grief. It would be much simpler if there were a rule book on how we grieve, but then again maybe not…it might cause more pain if we do not progress as fast as the rules say. There are many other areas in my life I make excuses for, I need to work on them too. If I am sad, that is legitimate, it is to be expected. But I do think I am making too many excuses and missing out on my life. I do not want to wake up one day and decide to really look in the mirror and see that life has passed me by while I was making excuses. So, I will continue trying to accomplish more, allowing for some excuses, yet pushing myself past other excuses. It is not a big step, but it is a step towards the future without my husband to share with.

Days, Daze and Mirrors

I did not accomplish much if anything today. It is just one more day that has gone by in a daze. Or maybe it should be haze. I am not sure. I had planned on going out and had a list of a few things I wanted to accomplish. I did not go out or accomplish anything that was planned. While today I had an excuse to seem to walk around in a daze, most days it is just my panic or fear of panic that stops me from accomplishing anything.

I have started sleeping on the couch for part of the night. One of the reasons is I cannot fall asleep in bed, but am able to on the couch. The other reason is my pet that is dying becomes upset when I leave the room. He starts crying and knocking things over. Knocking things over is not new to him, he only does this if I am in another room and wants or needs attention. He knows the sounds he makes will bring me back to the living room. I know his time left is limited so I start my night of sleep on the couch. The couch is not comfortable so I normally wake up and move to my bedroom and bed to get more sleep. My pet normally is happy I spent part of the night in the same room and rarely makes sounds of complaint when he hears me get up to move to the bedroom.

Today when I woke in my bed I really did not feel like getting up. This is not new. Many days I will lay there for hours before finally getting up and taking a shower. I normally get out of bed when I wake and go to the kitchen to get my pet a snack before returning to bed. This morning I walked over to wear he was sleeping and he looked like he had died. I have been dreading this. But after minutes of staring at him to see if he were breathing he opened his eyes and saw me. He jumped, surprised that I was there. Then he went to move. His back legs were dragging, he was having a hard time walking. I have seen this many times before with pets when they were minutes to hours, though sometimes a day or two away for death. I went to the kitchen and got one of his favorite snacks, went back to where he was, he did not take the snack. This seemed like another sign he was close to death. I wondered if I should just pick him up and hold him until his last breath or if I had time to take a shower and then return to pick him up.

I decided to shower first. When I returned to the living room he was in the same place and same position. He looked at me sadly but with his nose pointed towards the kitchen. I got him another treat. This time he ate it. I tried to pick him up, but he moved away from me, he was not ready to be held. I sat on the couch in a daze. I wondered how long he had left. I thought of my husband and his death. I sat and stared at the TV without seeing it. Eventually my pet wanted to be held. I gave him his IV’s for pain. I brought him to the front door, he looked outside longingly, as though he wanted to be outside, young again. It was cold today so I did not want to bring him outdoors. After a few moments he looked at the couch. So I sat back down holding him. He has lost even more weight and is very bony. When I first sat down, his eyes looked tired as though he had lived hundreds of years and was weary. He was also making crying sounds. As the medicine kicked in the crying stopped.  After a few minutes he became active again. So active I was afraid I would drop him so I put him back down. Where he got comfortable and stared up at me.

For the rest of the day and even now as I type this he is looking at me. He gets up and eats a little, but not enough to sustain life. I have to be careful what I give him as the wrong thing could kill him. Of all the foods I have here for him, he likes only a few. He likes more of what I have but it has become hard for him to eat them. It does not seem to be his teeth that stop him from eating them. Rather it appears as though he has either gotten tired of them and no longer wants them or he is having a hard time swallowing them. My plans to go out were put on the back-burner as I wanted to be here for him.being

As I mentioned earlier, today I had a valid excuse not to go out. I know some would have gone out if their pet were dying, but that is not who I am. I am not passing judgement on those who go about their daily routine with a pet dying. If I had somewhere I had to be, I would have had to go out and leave him alone. But I had nowhere that I had to go today that could not be put off until tomorrow or when the time is right. Though I had a valid excuse it does not stop me from feeling as though one more day has gone by in my life and I have not lived it. Days go by, one after another, with each one I find a way not to live my life. Am I just in a daze because of all that has happened and all that is happening are too much for me to handle? Or am I just making excuses to get out of living my life? When I am ready to look in the mirror I hope today does not reflect an excuse, rather a good cause for not going out. Now as the end of the day is arriving I only know that I have spent another day in a daze. I do not want the rest of my life living in a daze. I do forgive myself for today, as my pet should be given respect as death approaches. Forgiving myself for today is a start. Now I just have to deal with my pet as he dies and hopefully start to live my life again afterwards. In days, not daze.

Boundaries in the Mirror

One of the last times I called 911 for an ambulance to bring my husband to the hospital two women came to the front door while I was standing waiting for the ambulance. I would suspect I was short-tempered with them, which is expected with the stress I felt at that moment. I told them they had to leave as they were in the middle of my driveway and an ambulance would be there any moment to take my husband to the emergency room. I also told them I had no time for them. They apologized and asked if they could visit at another time. I told them yes, but please hurry and leave. They left, the ambulance arrived and it was off to the hospital. With all that was happening so quickly with my husband’s health failing, I forgot about the two women.

About 4 months after he died these two women rang my doorbell. I was expecting family in a few hours, this would be the first time I allowed anyone to visit since my husband had died. The women explained that they had been there over the summer and I seemed very stressed and this was the first time that they had been able to get back to my neighborhood. They asked about my husband and I told them he died. They offered condolences and said they would pray for him. Then they asked if they could come in. I was thinking “no way” but said “okay but only for a few minutes as I am expecting family”. I was lucky, they had other appointments that day so we only talked, I should say I only talked briefly. They asked if they could return in the future. Once again I thought “no way” instead I told them they could return.

My family visited for five days. I thought it would be an uncomfortable visit. It turned out to be fine. Though many things we planned I was not up to, we did go out some. The reason I say the visit was fine is my family does not know of my panic attacks and my fear to walk out the door. My explanation for not doing all they wanted was the weather, which they understood. The morning after they left, while I was still sleeping I heard the doorbell ring again. I thought maybe it was a package or something else of that type. No, it was the two women wanting to visit. I explained, I was sleeping and was not up to a visit. I also explained it would probably be a little longer until I was up to visits. They apologized for waking me and wished me a good day.

The following Saturday, in the midst of a severe migraine, the doorbell rang again. Once again it was these two women. Again I told them I was not up to it. For the next several weeks they probably stopped by my house at least once a week, though a few times it was twice. Each time I told them I was not up to visits. The last time they rang the doorbell, which was last Saturday, I told them nicely that it would be a few weeks if not months before I was up to visiting. They told me to have a nice day and left. I thought, finally, some freedom from that doorbell and these two women. It was not to be.

This morning before the doorbell rang, I saw them walking up my stairs. I have windows on each side of my door, so they could see I was sitting there. I had no time or I would have gone in the other room and not answered the door. They also came at a bad time as I was looking at my ailing pet, thinking of my husband who had died, there were tears in my eyes but they were probably from something other than crying, an allergy most likely. I did not bother wiping the tears when I answered the door. They noticed the tears, but still wanted to come in and visit. I tried to hide my anger as I told them that on Saturday I had told them I was not up to visits. That I would not even allow neighbors to visit. I told them I was struggling, not only dealing with my husband’s death, I now had my pet who was dying. Surprisingly the women said my pets impending death must bring a lot of memories of my husband’s dying and what I went through before he died. I did not expect anyone to understand how my pets illness brings up what I went through. I still did not allow them in. In fact I tried to tell them nicely that I did not want any visits for at least two months, maybe longer. They were quite kind and said that mourning (they did not say grief) takes not only time, but time alone. I was surprised they understood my need to be alone as well as my need to look at the past, one even said it is best to look at the past so we do not repeat what we did not like about it in the future. It was nice to have someone understand that. Still I did not let them in. I know I need more contact with people, but I am working towards that. As for these two women, they are very nice but they need to learn to respect boundaries.

I did not mention who these women were as most people would draw judgement on them. They are Jehovah Witnesses. I am not. I had a very good friend that was. Our friendship was not based on religion but how we had so many things in common as well as our mutual respect for the other. Religion was never brought up by her unless she was going to an assembly and she would tell me what days she would be gone. I sometimes asked her about her religion. She would answer my questions. I am always curious about other religions and had never understood this one. My friend gave me explanations for her reasons to be a Jehovah Witness and a little about their beliefs. I sometimes joked with her about the knocking on doors. She did not like to do it, but did it once a year as it was part of her religion and service. When a Jehovah Witness comes to my door, I think of her. I would hope no one was ever rude and slammed the door in her face. She was very kind and sensitive. That would have hurt her immensely, though she understood why people did this. This is why I talk to these two women, out of respect for my friend.

I talk about my friend in the past tense. This is because I lost contact with her about 8 or 9 years ago. Shortly after my husband became ill, I looked to see if she was on Facebook. She was not, but her husband and children are. I messaged her husband to tell her I said hello, he asked for my phone number. I messaged back the number but told how my husband was so ill and all my time was spent caring for him. That I would like her to call, but I might not always be available. I never heard from her. Upon telling two who knew her well, they both said she must have died as she would have definitely called. I then went back to Facebook and looked at all the pictures her husband and children had posted. She is only in one, it is an old picture her son posted, someone asked who she was and he replied his mother. No other comments. She had two bouts with cancer, I see her son is battling cancer now. My only conclusion in seeing these things are that she most likely is dead. I was going to contact her husband again or her son or daughter, but realized I am not up to being friends with anyone at this time. So I have put it off until I am more sure of myself. I may not contact them even at that point as I do not want to bring up memories they might have already dealt with.

As for the two women that keep ringing my doorbell, I think they now understand I need time and will not bother me for a while. These two women also made me think of boundaries. When to say no. They obviously had not been respecting my boundaries or at the least did not understand. I know at times I have crossed boundaries thinking I am helping. Or I have crossed them with my husband’s doctors in order to talk with them when I wanted to, not at their convenience. My whole life I have crossed boundaries. I have spent a lot of time at race tracks or shops where the cars are built. To me being at a track or shop is more enjoyable than going to a spa. I know I crossed boundaries, used my looks to gain access to places others only dream of going. When I was younger someone very intelligent told me it was not fair I used my looks to get what I wanted. I replied one day my looks will fade, their intelligence would not, so I was using what I had before it was gone. I now see I was crossing boundaries. Would I cross them again? Most likely, but I think these two women have taught me a little. I will think twice and make sure it is not at the cost of someone else if I decide to cross a boundary.