Living with Luke 21
This week has been mostly about collecting stool and urine samples from Tiddles. Not a great way to start off the blog this time around I admit but necessary in the life of the Silverback at this point in time. With the help of the Cauldwell Charity we have been given some funding to try a program of supplements in an effort to boost brain and liver function as well as boost his digestive system. Unfortunately, one of the conditions of this program is that we have to collect and send off stool, urine and blood samples.
I asked if we could just send a pair of his underpants, but apparently that was not allowed.
So, picture the scene if you will. Having been given three cardboard collection trays because we have to collect three consecutive Winnie the Pooh samples, both TCMH and I sat nervously each night listening for the tell-tale crash of the toilet door and the smashing of the toilet seat being ‘lowered’, (which is actually more like a bomb going off) which would usually signify that our little gorilla was wanting to go. We would both then rush upstairs to find our hairy legged teenager with his earphones in, iPod playing, sat on the toilet only to be hauled off again by me so that he could wee first, because we couldn’t mix the two. Having done that, we then placed a square cereal bowl – yes, a cereal bowl! – down the toilet with the cardboard collecting tray on top, thus preventing the WTP from coming into contact with the toilet water (another no no). We then sat a mystified Tiddles back onto the toilet and waited. After looking at me as if to say. ‘you do know you’ve just put a bowl down the toilet don’t you?’, Tiddles was encouraged to go, and finally, to steal a line from ‘Star Wars’, it’s away! Cue much encouragement, cuddles, hats, balloons, and streamers for a still flummoxed Tiddles.
But that was the easy part.
Wearing a pair of those plastic gloves, I then had to remove said bowl from the toilet, with a steaming mound of Tiddles Poo in it, and then ‘spoon’ it into some test tubes. And THEN I had to mash it up to a paste. And THEN having used all of my grip stength to make sure the cap was on AS TIGHTLY as possible, I had to shake up the paste to make sure it was mixed! Add to that the smell…oh what a delightful three days that was!
But we did it, and collected the urine samples and got the blood samples taken from a very reluctant Tiddles the Silverback. The one funny thing was that on the fourth day, whilst we sat downstairs, we heard the toilet door crash open, the seat drop and then from the top of the stairs came a teenage voice,
So used to it had he become that he now thought it was going to be a regular thing for daddy to do…
So now we wait.
In the meantime, we have continued to give him the supplements. And I don’t know if it is wishful thinking, or if there is anything in the supplements themselves, but there does seem to be a very small improvement with him. He seems a little bit more alert, a tiny bit more ‘here’, responsive even. He is still shouting, but the cuddles have returned, the standing on the toes, and even the eye contact is being held just that little bit longer.
I posted this the other day, but it’s worth repeating here for those that didn’t see it. I was sitting, going through iTunes and suddenly started singing along to the Keane song ‘On a Day Like Today’ from their first album. Bearing in mind that it is only a 60 second sample, I looked up and saw Tiddles looking straight at me as I sang. And continued to look at me as I sang to him. Which was a very poignant moment because the lyrics at that particular moment went;
‘I saw you, were sick and tired of my wrong turns,
If you only knew, the way I feel I’d really love to tell you
But I can never find the words to say…’
And then the sample finished and Tiddles looked away, the moment was broken and he returned to Narnia. It sort of sums up my life with Tiddles over the past 12 years, certainly over the last year.
He has seen me at my worst, my wrong turns, and I would dearly love to tell him, to get him to actually understand how I feel about him inspite of his condition, but I can never find the words to tell him, or at least any words that he would comprehend the meaning of.
Am I hoping for a miracle with these supplements? I would be a liar if i said that I wasn’t. I’m hoping against hope that this course of tests and tablets brings about even a minor improvement in his little life.
Time will tell…
But we did throw away that bowl…