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It’s Just a Grill
My next-door neighbor and close friend “Bob” developed a form of dementia a few years ago, in his late 60s. It’s worse than Alzheimer’s, in that the patient is aware of his decline. It also affects motor skills – he’s having more trouble getting around, and falls sometimes. He’s having trouble breathing, and needs oxygen now. Swallowing is becoming a problem. He also hallucinates a lot. He knows they’re hallucinations, but he can’t get all the people in his head to shut the heck up, so he can never relax. Horrible, horrible stuff.
Anyway, his wife texted me an hour ago and said, “Please come over here right now.” So I trot over there, and find Bob on his back patio trying to install a new propane grill into his masonry stand. The old grill had died, and he bought a new one, and he was installing it where the old one had been (so shiny it blinds my cell phone camera in the picture). Bob was agitated and angry:
Bob: “The dang thing doesn’t fit.”
Me: “Yeah, whatever. We can make it fit. No problem.”
Bob: “But it should fit.”
Me: “Probably made in China. Apparently, eight-year-old Chinese girls can’t read a tape measure. Whatever. We’ll make it fit.”
Bob: “Yeah, ok. Frickin’ Chinese.”
His wife pulled me aside and said, “They made it the wrong size?”
Me: “No, Bob measured wrong and ordered the wrong size.”
Wife: “So why don’t we just exchange it?”
Me: “Because it’s important that Bob make this work. And not be embarrassed by a simple mistake. We’ll make it work. No big deal.”
Bob got confused by the coupler when hooking up the propane, but I gave him a few gentle tips, and very subtly watched like a hawk to make sure he didn’t blow himself up. He’s a smart guy and he’s done this sort of thing before, but got a little mixed up at times. Took a little longer, but he got it right.
I cut some of the masonry with a cold chisel, and fudged some stuff, and managed to get the grill in the mount. But it didn’t fit, and left a gap of over an inch all the way around. Bob was upset, and his wife was very upset. It was an expensive grill.
I told him, “Why don’t we just put tile all the way around it? Make it fit nice and pretty, and give you a new cooking surface to work on. You can choose whatever tile you like. Something that matches your floors – whatever. I’ve got all the tools – we can do it together. We’ll put more mud near the grill, to slope it away from the stove. Perfect fit. It’ll look sharp. No sweat.”
Bob perked up and said, “Yeah, I was thinking about something like that. I think that would look good. It’s easier to do that with the gap we’ve got anyway. As a matter of fact, I’ve got some tile left over from when we did our floors. It’ll match perfectly. I’ll go get it.” As you can see from the picture, it fit perfectly, just like Bob said it would. I’ll grab some thinset tomorrow. Easy. And it’ll look sharp.
I’m pretty sure he knew he ordered the wrong grill, and he was relieved to not have to admit that, and still get a good result.
As I walked back to my house, his wife whispered to me, “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just get the right grill for that space?”
I said, “You’re missing the point. He’s spent the last six months sitting in his recliner with an oxygen tube under his nose watching the same westerns over and over again. He has to call for help to go to the frickin’ bathroom. This is probably the first time he’s felt like he had a pair of balls in a long time. It matters. The grill will work fine. We’ll make it work. Whatever. But I think it’s important that he do this.”
Wife: “Men are weird.”
Me: “My wife got into a fight with our daughter this afternoon about the color of the bridesmaids’ t-shirts for her bachelorette party.”
Wife: * stares at me for a few seconds *
Me: “They’re both extremely upset.”
Wife: “Ok, so women can be a little weird sometimes, too.”
Me: “A little?”
Wife: “You can make the grill work?”
Me: “Bob can, with a little help. As little as possible.”
Wife: “Ok, whatever.”
Me: “That’s the spirit. Whatever. You can’t control what’s happening to him. Neither can he. What he’s going through is horrible. What you’re going through is horrible. It’s all horrible. We’re talking about a grill, here. Whatever. I think he’ll get some satisfaction out of it. He can call his son and tell him that he put it in himself. He’ll like that. That may not be a big deal to you. But it is to him.”
His wife started to cry and covered her face with her hands, just standing on their patio. It’s not easy to watch your husband, who was once so capable, turn into a child before your eyes. Caring for him is a lot of work. She doesn’t sleep much. She’s exhausted and frustrated. She just wanted a grill that fit properly. I understand. One less problem. Why does everything have to be so difficult?
But I think she was missing the point.
We all do, from time to time.
Especially when we’re stressed out. When everything is falling apart, we tend to take small problems and make big problems out of them. We’re running on adrenaline, and everything is a catastrophe.
Even when it’s not.
Even when it’s just a grill.
It’s ok. Whatever. Just for a moment, everything is sort of ok. Until everything reverts back to horrible, which it obviously will. But for now, let’s enjoy our small victories, such as they are. Whatever they are. Even if it’s just a grill. We’ll take whatever we can get at this point.
I think the tile will look sharp.
Published in General
Dr Bastiat, your posts are outstanding medicine.
Measure twice.
Cut once.
Be prepared to improvise.
Sometimes you’re focused so deep on loving someone and wanting them to be ok it’s hard to remember to breathe. I expect they both spend a lot of time very frightened. A little ok is a big gift.
This sounds a lot like progressing Parkinson’s disease. It took my father. Very sad and difficult. It steals everything. While you watch. A very, very difficult way to go. You did well, Kimosabi.
Not long ago a friend died of that. He told me, “I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”
It’s not Parkinson’s. It’s a related neurological condition called Lewy body dementia. Robin Williams died of that.
Looks great from here and if it doesn’t turn out perfect, my father-in-law used to say “You would never notice riding by in a bus.”
Thanks for the clarification. Started reading about it. Hard, hard. So glad they have a good neighbor.
I’ll be right back – got something in my eye.
May God bless you and keep you, and may you have God’s special blessing this day, because you have done something wonderful.
You are the best, Doc. A few more jewels in your crown today, as my mama would say.
Amen.
I made something that didn’t fit into something that sort of fit. Pretty much.
Which is good enough, I think.
Under the circumstances.
Sometimes, we just do the best we can. We rejoice in our small victories.
I cut it twice and it was still too short.
Have you been holding some information back on us?
Excellent philosophy!
You made something work for your friend and helped him with his disability in a friendly and loving way. That is what is wonderful.
Duplicate for some reason.
I totally agree with your assessment on what your friend actually “needed”. He needed the small victory of successfully installing the grill much more than he needed the grill to be reordered as the correct size. I can attest to the fact that the more things get difficult in a home project the more proud I am to complete it as well. Well done
I am confused on this issue.
We were told by doctors that my father, who passed in 2015, was diagnosed and treated for Parkinson’s for a number of years.
Then he developed dementia, which the doctor called Lewy body dementia, which I recall the doctor told us was one of the possible eventual symptoms of Parkinson’s disease.
Then I later learned that Lewy body dementia is it’s own disease which is not in fact Parkinson’s.
So is it the case that my father never had Parkinson’s, but actually had Lewy body dementia all along?
…. Or did my father have both Parkinson’s and then later separately developed Lewy body dementia …. two diseases at the same time?
Beautiful…just freakin’ beautiful. Thanks Doc- just the right tone and message for this Memorial Day.
I just want you to know you inspired and helped me. My husband is in terrible back pain at the moment, and we have a large pool that needs to be cleaned. The pool services are ridiculously expensive, and he usually does it himself–actually enjoys it. But this spring, he keeps looking at it and feeling frustrated. We have a robot that works great most of the summer, but the initial cleanup is arduous, to say the least.
I just said to him, “Here’s the deal. If you get me set up with the vacuum parts, you can sit in the chair by the pool shed and I’ll clean it. But it has to be this evening because the reflected light from the pool hurts my eyes. So, if you don’t mind waiting till the sun lowers a little bit, we can do it together.”
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“That’s great.”
Mood brightening ensued. :) :)
Thank you. :)
The docs said my father had “Parkinsonism”. He never had tremors, but had all the other symptoms that have been described in the post and comments. My mother always thought this was brought on by a tick bite that was not properly treated. Back then Lyme disease was not so well understood in these parts. My sister wanted to take him to Minnesota where Lyme diagnosis and treatments were more advanced at the time. My mother would not let her do this and suffered from guilt for years afterward.
My father’s symptoms looked to me like Lewy body problems after I did some internet searches years later. Was it brought on by Lyme disease? I don’t think anybody really understands all this.
What we get done is often not as important as why and how we choose to do it.
My friend has Lewy body dementia. His wife has had to enroll him into skilled nursing in a long-term care facility. He is a relatively large man and she’s a small woman. He kept falling. She would have to call 911 to come and just lift them up. It was an untenable situation. The bigger problem became his resentment of being put in the nursing facility. We go to visit, my wife and I, as often as we can, but the conversation is very limited. His wife on the other hand, spends her whole life over there. It’s incredible. She is finally realizing that she hast to slow down with it and find a life of her own. There are many questions about aging, and how long we should carry-on a useless and very painful battle. To some it is immoral to try and take that decision into your own hands. I don’t necessarily see it that way, but the problem is in most cases as long as you’re able to mentally make that decision you don’t feel like you need to. And then, once you need to, you’re already past the point where you’re competent enough to make it on your own. It’s a sad thing about life…death is.
Some much love, wisdom, and respect in this post and the responses.
You’re doing the Lord’s work. Thank you, Dr.
This is so true. My husband often said that he would take care of the problem himself before he reached the stage where he couldn’t wipe his own butt. Well, that stage came so quickly that he was physically unable to “take care of the problem”. It was very sad, but I realized that we were not unique – it is part of being human and comes to almost all of us at some point. We are lucky if we have someone who loves us to help us through.
May G-d bless you.
Growing old… it usually beats the alternative.