"I should not talk so much about myself if there were any body else whom I knew as well."
-Henry David Thoreau

Monday, December 19, 2016


First things first.  Grandpa's status seems to depend on the moment.  On Saturday he was completely delirious, mumbling gibberish, eating nothing, and picking at things that weren't there.  On Sunday he wouldn't even wake up, snoring and mumbling under his breath, but not opening his eyes.  So today I was prepared for more of the same, but when I arrived he was sitting in his wheel chair and eating a bit of lunch.  He was happy to see me, told me he already had Speech Therapy (which was correct), asked about different family members, and told me he sure was missing Cleve today.  All good, until he attempted to convince me that he didn't need to be there any longer.  His roommate is being discharged tomorrow, so I guess that is fueling this idea that he should be going home as well.  I told him that he can't leave there until he can take care of his own personal needs.  He declared that he'd never be able to do that again and then argued that all I would have to do is give him his medications.  I tried to delicately point out that his bathroom and shower needs were an issue that I couldn't tend to.  He was quiet but seemingly annoyed.  It doesn't help that his roommate is in no better shape than Grandpa is.  How do I explain to him that the difference between him and his roommate isn't ability to care for one's own needs, but money?  His roommate's home is in an assisted living facility where they help him with those personal needs as necessary.  His roommate can afford to do that.  It's a luxury that far too many, including Grandpa, will never have.  So, I skipped over anything having to do with his roommate and gently told him that he had to stay where he was and keep doing therapy to regain strength.  He wasn't convinced and was dramatically irritated, but he settled on two more days. 
God grant me the strength. 
I've said this before, but I need to confess it again.  This is HARD.  What if every day he was as good as today?  I don't know.  I don't think I could care for him even then, but you know what?  The last 3 weeks tells us that every day is not as good as today.  The last three weeks have been a roller coaster and he doesn't remember half the ride. He's not aware of how rickety and unmanageable the sharp curves and big drops are.  He's only aware of the slow and straight climbs that are uncomfortable and restricting.  I know that he doesn't want to be on this roller coaster at all.  I don't either.  Yet here we are.  I've been on a roller coaster like this with someone I've loved before.  More than once.  More than twice.  It wasn't the same ride though, so I don't know what curves are coming, how big the drops will be, or when the ride will be over.  My heart hurts for him because I know he isn't happy there, but I'm trying to maintain my own level head as I manage this situation and prepare for whatever is ahead.    I would appreciate your continued prayers as this journey continues.