FTD Mistakes and One Phenomenal Book

 I hope at least some of my blog followers noticed that I was not posting new ones! I have a good excuse and because of it, this one may be short because I still cannot type very well.

I have had a few FTD "moments" lately. Actually, I call them "brain farts." These are moments when I seem to forget I have FTD and think I can do anything I used to. Most of the time, these instances end up harmless and are things we just laugh at.  Not this time...

My daughter has a very tall bed and a squishy foam mattress. I wanted to talk to her, so I climbed up on to the frame at the foot of the bed. I have tried many times to get up onto this bed, but never succeeded. My FTD brain decided that I could use that to step up onto and then I could get onto her bed. My FTD brain was oh so wrong.

 Before my daughter could say "NO!" I was standing on the bed frame. It looks like a step up onto the bed. Really, though, it apparently is a launching pad! I flew down and landed on my right hand and then the rest of me landed. My poor wrist took the brunt of it all. It instantly swelled and I was black and blue from fingers to nearly my elbow. The worst part? Six feet away, on the side of the bed was a stepstool. I guess it was two brain farts.

Anyway, this tale is taking too long. One cast, one surgery, a non-removable splint and, now a removable splint later, I can finally use my right hand a bit. The bad thing still on the horizon, though, is there will be yet another surgery to remove the metal bar and screws when it has healed.

The good news is that the doctor, anesthesiologist, nurses and the other multitude of staff truly responded to my FTD. They allowed my daughter to be with me at every appointment and procedure, except the actual operating room. The anesthesia team spent about 20 minutes researching for a pre-op drug other than Versed and Fentanyl (this one is not because of FTD, it is a personal allergy) and never acted put out. My daughter and I, of course, educated everyone who entered my room about FTD

Any way, this is a good incident to show FTD brain mistakes. 

Now, I had several other things to write about, but they can wait until another day...

If you haven't seen or heard about a new book about FTD, I must tell you about We Danced. It was written by Scott M. Rose whose wife developed and eventually died from FTD. I rarely read books anymore because it is difficult with FTD. I read this one in two days, over 300 pages. So you should know how awesome I think it is. Also, fortunately, the text is in a larger font.

Scott began the book by telling of their beautiful love story. He verbally painted a portrait of his wife, Maureen, their romance and marriage. Sadly, Maureen was diagnosed with the Semantic PPA variant of FTD. He stepped up and became her caregiver. Their love never wavered. I can't tell you how many times I laughed and how many I cried.

He had never heard of FTD but he learned everything he could, and more. It seems to me that he followed his heart and love for his wife and mixed it with what he could learn and his common sense. I have been calling it a "primer for caregiving" for all.

They both kept journals and Scott has included passages from those as well as some of the blog entries that he wrote after her diagnosis. It is indeed their personal story of love and caregiving.

I have never gushed about a book like I have We Danced. I did have the pleasure of briefly meeting Scott at the AFTD Conference a couple of years ago, but never knew him. I never even met Maureen. I sure wish I had. After reading this book, I feel like I do.

I am not trying to boost sales, but I would be remiss if I didn't include that it is available on Amazon in hardcover, paperback and Kindle.

I apologize if any are offended by my gushing over someone else's book. However, there is no way I can keep quiet about it. That is just how good it is and how much I loved reading it. Plus, it proves that FTD and love can exist together. (I asked Scott for permission to write about his book, he humbly agreed.)

Wrist-permitting, I will write about the other things I intended to write about today.