Getting Hammered with Dementia

Thanks to a massive Hail Storm this past summer, every building in our neighborhood is getting re-shingled.  And, since there was roof damage all over Odessa, we’ve been patiently waiting our turn for the roofers to get here.  I am happy to report that they’ve finally made it, and they’ve been working hard the last three or four weeks.  The Administration and Medical buildings were done first, and they’re now working on the residential side.  Trust me when I say that there’s no sleeping in for the weary; there’s a whole lot of hammering from dawn until dusk.

I’m not exaggerating when I tell you our dogs are going berserk.  They’ve been to the Vet twice so far, for some mellow meds to settle them down.  Not only have the roofers invaded their turf, but the relentless hammering is driving them insane.  Their digestive systems are all out of whack, and they can’t get their usual hours of naps.  There’s nothing like three already high-strung Chihuahuas, literally bouncing off walls.  I shudder when I consider that the roofers haven’t even gotten to our street yet!

To make matters worse, there are several new apartment buildings going up around the “The Parks”, where we live.   Most of the new roofs have gone up the past couple of weeks, adding to the cacophony of noise.  We’ve been enjoying the sunset, when all the hard working roofers rest for the night.  Having helped occasionally with roofing  projects over the years, I know its hard work; not to mention just trying not to fall off the roof!

I’am sure our Chihuahuas just want to protect us, barking ferociously to hold the roofers at bay.  Lord knows what will happen when the guys finally get to our roof.  The chihuahuas might need a doggie psychologist to cope with the stress.

One of the things I’ve learned about Dementia, is that I can’t handle much noise.  I tend to dwell these days in quieter places.  Part of that is probably due to hearing loss that seems to come along with aging.  But another part of it has come with my Dementia.  It seems to go hand in hand with confusion, because it disrupts my thoughts.

I’ve noticed over the past few months that my ability to converse has become somewhat more difficult.  When people ask me questions or tell me things, there’s a delay in my processing as to what they’re communicating.  I have to slow down and think about what they’ve just said.  There is a perceptible delay of some kind in processing their message.  It’s not that I’m not hearing the words, its that I have to focus on what the words mean.    Loud noise seems to worsen this process, and so I try to avoid loud noises whenever  I can.

And so, the dogs and I are in this together, waiting for those noisy hammers to fall.  Hopefully afterword, the hailstones will leave us alone.  But then, this is West Texas and we all know it’ll happen again.  Not to mention the boarded window right in front of me, that took a baseball sized hailstone in the same storm.  I wonder if we’ll get a group rate when we all see the psychologist?

Blessings,

Fr Dave

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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