Thursday, July 28, 2022 — Following up on my goof up last week when we showed up at the dr’s office a week early, today we showed up and we were 15 minutes late. <sigh> I had the day right but the time wrong. So we sat in the waiting room for a bit and then they decided we could be seen after all.
They called us in and escorted Robert into the room where they take vitals. His weight was 145.2, which was a disappointment for me, but his blood pressure was excellent. The nurse then took us into the exam room and began doing a standard cognitive ability exam. The first time Robert looked at me for an answer, the nurse told him I couldn’t help him. Needless to say, he didn’t do well on the test. When the dr. came in, I explained that I needed to make sure that Robert’s retirement annuity would continue if something were to happen to me, because he would still need care and care costs money. I told him I was scheduled to have a defibrillator installed in a couple of weeks. The dr. then went over the results of Robert’s last lab work and asked him a couple of questions about his physical condition. After chatting with Robert for a bit, he said he felt that the Alzheimer’s was progressing and he had no problem providing a letter documenting his condition. So, we go back on Monday to pick up the letter.
As we were leaving, everyone was saying, have a nice evening, and I said I planned on taking Robert out to Wendy’s for a frosty, and we’d sit and watch the semi-trucks and trains. As I walked out of the office and headed for the car all I could think was, “Can I cry now?” It hurt to watch him struggle to pass that very simple test. Strange that I know he has Alzheimer’s and I live with his disease each and every day. I know it’s progressing, but for some unknown reason, having the dr. confirm it hit me, and it was all I could do to not break down into tears. Such feelings of sadness that he’s having to go through this.
Half-way to Wendy’s, Robert asked where we were going. I told him to get a frosty and he said, “Oh yeah.” By this time, it was nearly 5:00 p.m. and the sundowning was well underway. Once home, Robert literally collapsed into his chair and closed his eyes. The rest of the evening went the way every evening usually does — he naps until I wake him to go get his shower. He comes back into the living room and I find something to watch on t.v. Within an hour, he’s asleep in his chair and I have to wake him and help him to bed.
Not much else to report so will close with blessings to all. Be safe, take care of yourself and know that you are loved. Keep the faith…