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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
I’m not sure there is anything tougher than having to wipe the butt of a man who has been the “skilled guy” that everyone (especially me) turned to for his whole life. I think the only reason we could handle that phase was because of love. It was not easy.
WELL DONE! What a team.
Congratulations on the impending nuptials!
That is the worst possible outcome, if you ask me.
My grandmother always told us to never put her in the old folk’s home when she got too old. Of course they had to do it eventually. She lived far away so I never saw her there. I can’t imagine she liked it much.
In law school I took a class on elder law. One of the requirements was we had to visit old people homes, at least three of different levels of expense. One I visited was massively expensive and people moved in there just to retire, it was posh. Another that I visited was packed full with near catatonic people in wheel chairs drooling on themselves and making other messes and no one appeared to be getting helped. I got out of there as fast as I could. I hope I die before I ever have to suffer that fate.
The one redeeming factor of dementia in its later stages is you don’t realize your body is wasting away. You just live in the present (and sometimes remember things your brain memory-holed from your youth).
The same friend, the wife of the friend with dementia, used to work for a man who gave hearing tests and sold hearing aids. She, by chance, bumped into him while he was making calls at the nursing home where her husband lives. It happens to be one of the best in the city. He mentioned to her that because of his career in hearing aids, he must visit nursing homes all over the city. He carries a jar of Vicks Vaporub with him. To mask the smell he puts a dab under each nostril when he enters. He shared the fact of his surprise that he didn’t need it at this particular facility.
It’s hard to tell what people remember. But if that is true, isn’t it time to go peacefully with a shot?
No, because opening that door is a danger to everyone. Look at Canada. They have legalized euthanisia, or assisted suicide, and recently I heard a report that a Canadian veteran needed some medical care that was being ignored and the person on the phone kept trying to convince him to kill himself.
No, no matter how bad it is, or how expensive, the danger to our civilization is too great to allow that to be legal.
To save money in health care? Not sure I want to go down that road.
One of the true measures of craftmanship is the ability to fix mistakes.
My Mother would say, “If it can’t be noticed from a galloping horse, it is fixed”
Not to save money, but to be compassionate. It might be something like a medical directive that goes beyond “Do Not Resuscitate” to demanding to be put to rest.
Who makes the call? What could go wrong?
The patient would have set up the legal and medical parameters in advance and long term care facilities would have a team consisting of those people to make the call. If the patient still has the will and desire to say NO, the ending of life procedure would not go forward. I don’t have all of the answers, but I see how people spend their last days, months, and even years in a state of fear, pain, incontinence, and total disorientation. I would like to see a better way.
We go when God calls us. The “culture of death” creeps into the mental state and killing for convenience becomes normal. Once abortion became legal, it went from a health issue of the mother to selfish murder. People would abort their own babies if they didn’t like the sex. Selfish reasons always overtake humane reasons. There is a downside to our longer life expectancy.
I wish you a long, happy, and healthy life…and a quick death.
Or you get the Canadian equivalent of the VA telling veterans that rather than complain about delays in getting medical treatment, they could choose to take advantage of youth in Asia. Which seems to be a more pleasant euphemism.
I have lost loved ones quickly and slowly. I have seen it all. Cancer, dementia, stroke, Parkinsons, old age, ruptured colon, heart attack…assisted living, skilled nursing, hospice.
God made us sentient beings. We can make a choice. Some of our choices are good and some are bad, but they all, in the end, are a part of God’s universe. Humans, through our consciousness given to us by God, have created a society where we are able to, amongst many other things, keep ourselves alive far longer and under much more difficult situations then we would be able without our consciousness. I see that as God passing onto us a certain limited control over life and death. I do not believe it is against God’s wishes for us to exercise that control. But, I certainly honor and respect those who feel differently. Good discussion @eherring.
Good point to ponder.