Tuesday, September 27, 2022 — The end of yet another day. I had to put the car in the shop today to get the front bumper repaired. I backed out a bit crooked on Sunday morning and the bumper caught on the concrete curb, popping the bumper off on the driver’s side. It’s a 2001 Honda Civic with over 260k miles on it so I didn’t want to get carried away with costly repairs. The guy at the body shop suggested that he glue the bumper back into position since it only lost one bolt and the rest of the bumper just snaps on. He showed me how it would look after being glued and it looked fine to me so I told him to go ahead. I told him I’d take the car back home, get my neighbor to bring me back and he could have the car for the hour or two that it would take to make the repair. After going back home and getting a ride back to the body shop to drop off the car, I felt kind of good about handling the repair situation on my own. Sure enough, an hour and a half later, the phone rang and it was the body shop, saying my car was ready. Cost: $80 for one hour of labor and I know the guy had a really difficult time charging me that much for just a simple ‘glue job’ but I didn’t have anyone to fix it, and I for sure couldn’t do it, so it was money well spent.
When my neighbor dropped me off, for whatever reason, I confessed to her that there were times when I felt that it would be wonderful to live in a room somewhere, where I would be cared for and not have to do anything or worry about anything. I told her that I began thinking of the things I had to do and said I realized I would have to do most, if not all, of the things if I were to live alone, so I just needed to ‘suck it up’ and get it done.
Last night, Robert spilled a cup of hot coffee all over himself and the chair. He does o.k. in the mornings, but towards late afternoon/evening, he loses control of his hands–if he’s holding something, it just drops. I cleaned the chair as well as I could and today called and arranged for an upholstery service to come and give me an estimate for cleaning our furniture. They’ll come tomorrow after 4 p.m. Unless their price is way out of line, I’m inclined to have them clean everything. I’m going to check to see if they clean rugs as the oriental rugs need cleaning too.
He has an appointment with the neurologist on Thursday. I made the mistake of telling him about it yesterday, and big as life, first thing this morning he asked me what time we would have to leave today to get to the dr’s appt. on time. I had to tell him it wasn’t until Thursday and today was only Tuesday. Later on, he asked again and I calmly repeated what I’d said earlier. I think about the changes that have taken place with him and know I should make a list to give to the dr.
Today was trash day, so last night I collected all of the trash throughout the house and put it in the cans, ready to be put out this morning. When I went to bed, I set the alarm clock for 7:30 a.m. so I could get up and put the cans out. As I came back to the house after setting the cans out, I bent down and retrieved Robert’s morning newspaper. By this time I was wheezing really bad so made it to the office and began an inhalation treatment. My mind wandered to the question of how I could hire someone to come and put our cans out each week. When I got out of bed this morning, Robert woke enough to ask me where I was going and when I said I was going to put the trash out, he said ‘then I’ll stay right here.’ He promptly went right back to sleep. I’m thinking this task has now become my task. But as I said before, if I were living alone, I’d still have to put the trash cans out — maybe not every week, but I’d still have to do it, so why cry about something you’d have to do anyway?
I’ll need to let the neurologist know about Robert’s hallucinations. This morning he looked out the office window and said, “There’s a man down there with a white horse.” I got up and looked out the window and didn’t see it. I got the binoculars and looked again–nada, nothing. Next thing you know, Robert says, I don’t know where they went but they were right there. He’s forever seeing things on the floor–especially ants (he has a thing about ants and the other day as he woke from a nap, he said he saw ants all over everything.) He’ll see spots in the wood flooring and have to bend down and touch them, trying to feel them or pick them up. His depth perception is bad in the evenings, and he always stops and steps over thresholds instead of stepping on them. I know his dementia is progressing and he realizes it. This past Sunday we went to breakfast with the Tuesday crew and their wives–first time in over 2 years. When we got back home, Robert asked me how he did — did he make sense when he talked? Did anyone say anything to me about him? I told him no, and I thought he did fine. Friends did actually ask me how he was and I said that in the mornings, he was fine but by late afternoon/evening, he was having difficulties. He’s very frail anymore, and friends did notice that he’d lost a lot of weight. His appetite has definitely changed and food just doesn’t taste good anymore. I think he no longer enjoys eating like he used to. Now it’s a chore for him.
Well, enough of my whining… please know that I appreciate that you are here in my life. Be safe, take good care of yourself and please tell those you love that you love them.