Hi, guys. We are recovering from some drama from last weekend. Bill had an extremely intense day on Saturday. He had refused to take his meds while I was gone. The meds don't stay at a therapeutic level once they are stopped and every time you stop taking the meds, you are only able to stop the progress of the disease from the point you begin the meds again. It can prolong the effects of the disease but not stop the disease.
Watching Bill go through confusing times is difficult. He was in an accident last weekend. He is pretty torn up from the seat belt. He also sent a woman to the hospital from the other car. She was released. Bill totalled old Betsy. We've had Betsy since we got married- 24 years on September 5. Betsy was a trip. She was originally maroon but when we applied for his last couple of years parking permits for Betsy, we have listed the color as rust. The driver's seat has this well formed whole that just fits Bill's tiny hiney. She was always immaculate, never dusty, never any gravel or leaves... pampered. Between losing Spike, our 14 year old miniature poodle and losing Betsy, Bill has been grieving. He was ticketed, and I did get notice yesterday that we are being cancelled by our insurance. When it rains it pours.
I wait for those times when the old Bill breaks through. I grab him and try my best to communicate, to talk to him. We both grab onto those moments. He tells me how strange it is to be lost upstairs, how difficult it is to keep track and keep things straight. He usually tears up, but he's open and very honest when it happens, and he is always apologetic for his anger and frustration and talks about getting better.
The day Bill had his wreck, I had followed him around all day long. He was determined that Betsy needed oil. He was obsessed. He'd come and get me, and I'd show him the dip stick and say, see: it's full. She doesn't need any oil. He was determined. Throughout the day he added 4 quarts of oil to an all ready filled engine. I expected him to blow up the engine, but never in my wildest dreams did I expect him to drive off without me. He jumped up (granted, for the 150,000th time that day and I had followed him instantly 149,999 times.) I said, "Where are you going?" "Out to check the oil! By then I had locked Bill's car and hid the keys and had sent Jack to Grandma's in case he decided to work on the hybrid. I turned to grab my shoes, ran the dog to her crate, and walked outside. No truck. No Bill. For two hours I waited to find out where he went.
When the Sheriff drove up, all I could say is, "do you have my husband?" I figured they had arrested him, the funk he was in. They had him. He'd been in a wreck. My heart stopped. I couldn't breath. He wasn't hurt and the woman involved would be OK he assured. I jumped up and followed the Sheriff.
When we got there, I had explained Bill's day, the early onset of Alzheimer's. I learned that Bill had been tested for a DUI and of course passed. Bill was agitated and was very upset. He was very angry with me, calling me a traitor for sharing his personal life with the cops. The anger lasted for several days, but he is coming back around, both cognitively and behaviorally. He still has difficulty processing information, but he checks in often.
After a couple of days, he mellowed and Bill's memory of the wreck is a tad bit different than the police report. Here is the report of the wreck in Bill's own word. Perception is everything.
The wreck really brought up some weird grief stages. Ewwww, I hate grief. I do not like it when I cry. I want a plan. I want to follow the plan. I want to get from point A to point B without going around in circles.Grief can have a paralyzing affect. It's like being in a state of walking in your sleep. You get more and more frustrated, and try to pull out of it, but you just can't quite wake up.
Yesterday I opened up my devotional. It had four simple words. Wake up and live.That's it. That's all it said. So that's where I am starting. I think it' OK to grieve for awhile, but I have to live in the moment rather than being frozen from grief and miss the good things going on around me. So I prayed for God to use this somehow for the good. Give this purpose. We're both trying to move back to living life to the fullest, to love life and breath it in and appreciate today for today.