Still Here

Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve posted here. So much has happened, and is happening, that I don’t have a whole lot of time for posting or corresponding.

In early March, Bob had a sudden, severe decline, and at the time, his doctor thought he might be nearing his life’s end. But apparently the dip was due to excessive doses of his meds. His anxiety had dramatically diminished, so the dosage of the med for anxiety was cut way down, and another med was stopped entirely, with the result that several days later he had rebounded to almost where he was before the decline. Thank goodness!

However, overall he continues to gradually decline, as is to be expected with this illness. He is becoming weaker in general and is having a harder time getting up from his chair. I placed a raised toilet seat on the toilet that enables him to get up more easily.

A nurse from hospice checks Bob twice a month. Also, we have a friend, John, who has been helping care for Bob virtually every afternoon for several months now. John showers and shaves Bob and also cleans him up after incontinence (when John’s not here, oh my, that’s my job and it’s sure not an easy one; it’s getting harder now, too). John also gets groceries, runs some errands and sits with Bob when I need to go out. John is an ANGEL.

(NOTE to all caregivers of people with Alzheimer’s and other chronic, debilitating illnesses: You WILL reach a point where you can no longer do it by yourself. You WILL need in-home help.)

Both John and I are noticing that Bob’s cognition is worsening. It’s getting harder for him to understand and cooperate with what needs to be done. He is quite a bit less sure of his footing, so, for example, it’s scary for him to step into the bathtub, even with John and me holding onto him. He walks more slowly now and is hunching over a bit. Advancing age and debilitating illness are definitely taking their toll on him.

Although he’s not always sure who I am, when he does seem to know me, he can still tell me he loves me, sometimes even when I haven’t said it first.

And so we go onward day by day, toward the inevitability inherent in this devastating illness, taking some solace in small victories, like the words, “I love you.”