Since I “retired” from my full time job, to be sole caregiver to my husband (who has Alzheimer’s), I never know what day it is. I bought a clock that says, in big block letters, ex. FRIDAY, Morning 8:30 A.M. March 2, 2018. So that really helps, but I don’t really know what day it is because one day bleeds into the next. If you saw the movie “Groundhog Day”, it aptly sums up my days. I wake up, go turn off the house alarm (necessary not to keep burglars out, but to keep Mr. IN), let the dogs out. Turn the t.v. on (for Mr.), bring Mr. a glass of juice. Make my bed, return to kitchen to start breakfast. Pancakes. Every day. Seven days a week. Pancakes. Feed Mr. Then me. Give Mr. his pills. Then take mine. Clean up kitchen. See if Mr. wants a shower. Go take my shower (for me). Get dressed. Check on Mr. and the dogs. “Everyone ok? Need any more to eat/drink?” Ok. Find Mr. something to watch on t.v. At this point I either A. sit down and pay bills (depending on the time of the month) B. make phone calls to people you need to call on weekdays (doctor’s, bankers, insurance company, etc.), C. start the laundry D. pack up the gang to run errands (the dogs go with us everywhere). Lunch is simple, quick. If God is present, sometimes Mr. will nap in the early afternoon. Most days, no. Afternoons are spent taking Mr. “home” (we have a specific route that we take, in the car, with the dogs, that makes basically a circle around the city, then back home) more t.v. until time for supper. Wine (for me), supper, pills, t.v., let the dogs out, set the alarm, the bed. I sleep until 2:00-3:00. Wake for an hour or so. Back to sleep until I hear Mr. Then, start again. Almost, without exception, these are my days. The days when there is an exception are worse than this. That involves him being angry/moody all day, wandering, or general, nonverbal sitting in one place. I had all these plans! We would join a gym! Tried that – Mr. kept falling off the treadmill, couldn’t manage the bikes. We would take long walks! He shuffles. Will not pick up his feet. We would volunteer at the Humane Society! Uh, no. People tell me, you have to take care of yourself. Sure. Yeah. Hire someone to sit with him. He is too paranoid. Take him to Adult Daycare. They don’t allow dogs and the only time he will leave ours is if he has a doctor’s appointment. Very occasionally, about once a month, I make up a doctor’s or dentist appointment that I have and leave him/dogs for an hour to grab a quick lunch with a friend. But, basically friends (both his and mine) are in our past. Life, for them, is moving forward and Mr. and I can not participate in a future. Stay tuned.
One thought on “My Days”
That old song, “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen….” comes to mind. Heart wrenching account of your days but the love you have for your “Mr.” Shines through. Love you sweet friend.
Sent from my iPad Judy Whitson