Our Camping Adventure

A few weeks ago, Mitch and I got a wild hair up our butt.  I was browsing Facebook Marketplace and saw a big tent.  I showed it to Mitch and mentioned that tent camping might be fun…as long as we had cots, because if we slept on the ground, we would never be able to get up. Back up a bit… we sold our motorhome because of the gas prices. We just didn't want to go bankrupt trying to fill the tank up, so we let her go.  

We found an awesome camping spot right on a river.  We could fish from our lot.   We made reservations, then ventured to Big 5 Sporting Goods.  We bought a 6-person tent, two cots, and sleeping bags.  We already had a privacy tent for our porta-potty.  

We arrived at our campsite at around 3 o'clock in the afternoon to unload. We laid the tent out per instructions.  The guy at Big 5 said there would be no problem at all putting it up, even for those in advanced age (should I have been insulted?)

Fast forward three hours, the tent was still sprawled on the ground. Mitch walked over to the campsite next to us and asked the camper if he could possibly assist us. 

(We were being stubborn old farts, and we weren't gonna ask for help, but we finally had to give up and do so.)

The guy who came over was more than happy to help us out. We got our tent put up, and he loved it because it was so big. We put our cots and made our beds, and I was getting ready to cook dinner.

Mitch took the camp stove out and got ready to hook up the propane. Neither one of us bothered to look at the package that we got from the casino. The stove operated on butane, not propane. I told Mitch no problem; we could just build a fire, and there's a grate over the fire for the pot.

 We had firewood but no kindling or extra paper. (Can you tell we didn't prepare very well?) Please note a survival skill… a roll of toilet paper burns for quite a while, at least long enough to make the dinner lukewarm.

We were exhausted, so after our lukewarm meal we decided to go to bed. The sun was almost gone. It was getting dark, and I told Mitch to go into the box and get the travel lights that we had brought with us. He came back to the picnic table, shaking his head.  He couldn't find the lights.  Of course he was…they were still on a dining room table, so all we had was a flashlight from our cell phones. We decided to shake it off and just deal with it.

We lay down on the Big 5 cots that promised a good night’s sleep.  NOT  It felt like a metal rod was going up both of our backs. We tried to stick it out for an hour or two, but we just couldn't. It was just too freaking miserable, so we got up, went to the car, reclined our seats, and slept like babies.

The minute the sun came up, Mitch suggested we get the hell out of here. I wholeheartedly agreed.  He looked at the tent, then at me, and said he knew I was thinking the same thing. We decided to leave everything except the sleeping bags because we knew after this experience we would never go camping again.   

So as we drove by the next campsite, the guy  that helped us with the tent was up.  We called him over to our car and asked if he wanted our tent, and he said, "Absolutely-that's awesome." Mitch said, " Well, along with the tent, there were two cots, a privacy tent, and a porta-potty. It's all yours, and have a good day”.

We hit the gas pedal ... wanting to leave it all behind and feeling like idiots for trying to do something we should've never tried.  We are not kids anymore.  We need to accept our limitations.  Next time, we will rent a cabin!

  

THE DEVASTATION OF DEMENTIA ...

 
I've been missing my mom more than usual this week and reflecting on what my dad and I experienced as she declined. Not only did she have cancer, but she also had dementia. While the cancer was eating away at her body, the dementia was doing the same to her mind. Seeing that beautiful, vibrant woman waste away physically was devastating, but the added emotional turmoil of dementia made it practically unbearable.

 As both diseases progressed, I retired to help my dad with her care. We knew what to expect with the cancer; however, the dementia was not as predictable. There was joy, laughter, and lots of love -- switching to anger, paranoia, and extreme confusion. Her mental state would fluctuate from one day to the next and, sometimes, one minute to the next.

We were in constant contact with her doctor and hospice, and although they offered good advice, they kept repeating one statement: "Do not take what she says or does personally." Well, that sounds easy enough, but it's hard not to when your loved one uncharacteristically lashes out, physically and/or verbally, or worse, runs away. During those episodes, we found ourselves in a chaotic mass of bewilderment, despair, hurt, anger, resentment … You name it, we felt it. Although we mentally realized this wasn't Mom but dementia … convincing our hearts was a different story. She didn't remember the outbursts ... one ray of light in those dark times; otherwise, she would have been mortified and inconsolable.

Dementia is unrelenting and cruel and can take an emotional and physical toll on everyone involved. Without the resources available to us, the love and support of family and friends, and most importantly, our faith in God, we would still be picking up the pieces.

I don't know why I was compelled to write this, maybe someone out in the blogosphere needs to see they are not alone, or perhaps I'm reaching a new stage in the grief process. What I do know is that even though dementia made some days more difficult than others, they were all days spent with an incredible and beautiful woman I loved so very much, and for me, that's all that matters.

 

 HAVE A BLESSED DAY!