Okay, maybe that philosophy -or the statement of such - is flavored by the disease, nevertheless: look around. Value has been removed from everything; replaced by accessibility. The quality of the aggregate of things that gave life (as I knew it) meaning has been replaced by quantity. Friends, art, literature, intellectual curiosity, debate and introspection. None of these are elevated anymore; all of them are buried in a glut of casual acquisition.
Well. Boo hoo. MW and I would still be dying SSQQ, even if the internet had never been born.
***
Yesterday somebody added a bag of garbage to our collection for trash pick-up. I'd finished another round of purging junk from the casa, so there were around seven large black bags of debris waiting for removal. To this, somebody added a small, white bag of mostly food-stuff (fast food wrappers, drink bottles, etc.) set on top of the pile.
This very nearly destroyed MW. She was certain one of our neighbors did it as a way to insult or intimidate us.
Here's how I tried to walk her back: it makes no sense for anyone to do that with the intention of causing us dismay because most of the time the garbage men pick up early. The only reason MW had even seen that bag was because she didn't go walking in the morning so she got home before it had been removed. It could not have been meant as a "statement" if, under normal circumstances, nobody would have noticed. I explained that the most logical explanation was some service provider - a lawn mower, renovator, cable repair truck, etc. - saw the big pile of garbage and decided to chuck their refuse along with. Simply a matter of convenience for some lazy, inconsiderate person.
MW would have none of it. She blamed the neighbor across the street because they have a teenage daughter. Teenagers do things like that. They're terrible these days. Probably on drugs.
I couldn't persuade her otherwise. The neighbors are trying to drive us away by putting their garbage with ours.
So now we have to move. She's busy looking for houses today.
Whatever. MW can't maintain any significant course of action these days. The chance of us actually buying a new house are almost nil. In fact, she just now called to ask, "Could I afford the taxes on a $350,000 house if you die?"
Nice. The truth, of course, is "Hell, no." Actually, it would be "If I die before you? Game over, man."
What I said was, "Idon'tknowmaybe." That's always good enough.
***
One of the Huntington's Disease sites changed it's layout the other day so I went surfing and downloaded some pamphlets on behavioral and cognitive changes. It is spooky how EXACT the information is. Every single one of the bullet points for major characteristic behavior changes in an HD victim describes MW to the T. "Loss of drive or initiative" Check. "Mental Inflexibility" Check Check. "Lack of concern for one's appearance" MW routinely leaves the house with her clothes on inside out/backwards/unwashed. "Decreased ability to empathize in the feelings and needs of others." Too right!
Side note: under the Tips for carers, they suggest you "Recognize the symptoms of overworking and chronic stress: Irritability; depression; vague physical pain; insomnia; occasional dizziness; fears; tiredness."
Good lord. I'm batting 1000.
I'm sure I've laid eyes on all this information before, but there a cold comfort in recognizing new symptoms. Awhile ago I'd mentioned how MW had started lagging in her responses to events or questions. How five, ten, or even more minutes would go by before she'd react. Well, that's there too: "Speed of cognitive processing is slower."
If only I could use this information to somehow gauge where MW is at in the progression.
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