Baffled . . .

Today has been a bizarre and emotionally stressful day. If you’ve stumbled upon this post, feel free to skip it. I’m only writing it to process everything swimming around in my head. 

It began with my drive up to Houston to see Bill, this time in a rental car. Some “wonderful” person back at my previous apt. decided to key the whole left side of my car, leaving gouges deep enough to rust. I couldn’t ignore them, so off it went to a body shop, and USAA set me up with a rental car to use in the meantime. 

 

When I got to Houston, I found Bill more talkative than he’s been the last few visits. While he still asks the same few questions every 15 minutes or so, I was happy to see he was more alert. His mind, however, was rooted in the 60’s and 70’s, asking about doctors and dentists who passed away decades ago. As usual, he asked about Wil and Shelly and our animals; sometimes using their names, sometimes not. But then things got a little bizarre. 

 

For the past few weeks, he’s been asking about a 3^rd and sometimes a 4^th child. “The ones we recently found,” he says. I always say they’re ok, hoping he’ll move on; but today, he was fixated. He doesn’t remember their names, who their mother is, where they live, or much of anything else other than he thinks it might have happened when we were having a rough patch in our marriage in the 70s.  

 

Then he very looked at me very seriously and said, “I need you to do something for me. I want to have a meeting, maybe go out to dinner with you, Wil and Shelly, and the other kids I must have had when I was messed up. I want to apologize to all of them for being a terrible dad.”  

 

After a moment of silence, I agreed, again hoping the topic would change, but it continued to circle back until I got a phone call from my car rental saying my car was due back today. USAA was only paying until today, but my repairs won’t be finished for another week. Of course, when I tried to call USAA, all I could get was automated robots or an answering machine that promised the correct person would “get back to me within 24 hours.” I decided to go home. Too much drama. 

 

On the drive back, my mind kept spinning around this idea of “other kids.” Could Bill really have kids I don’t know about? Why is it coming out now? Did they contact him? How? What am I supposed to do with this information? Do I even want to know? Not really. 

 

Or is it all in his imagination – something stirred up by a story from a fellow resident? I mean, he did claim to be an explosive expert a few weeks ago, so there’s that!  

 

It’s all baffling and a bit unsettling . . . 

On a More Positive Note . . .

On a more positive note, I have begun to do some crafting again in my beautiful new apartment. I now have a room JUST for crafting! It's glorious! 

Last week, I made a birthday card for, Debbie, my friend who loves birds. It turned out perfect! 

Now, I'm working on two more birthday cards. A lot of birthdays this month! 

It feels good to be creative AND to have a place to be creative in! Here's the view I have from my window! 

You can see the pool - they just filled it in yesterday! There's also a pickleball court, a cookout area, and a fire pit area. I can't wait until they open it up! 

Where's Bill?

Remember the 'Where's Wally?' puzzle the kids used to play? That's how it feels when I'm with Bill - it's like I'm searching for pieces of him in a maze of confusion. 

Bill is getting more distant, more confused, and less aware that I am with him. The conversation, today, consisted of four questions he repeated over and over again. How are you? How are the kids? How are the animals? How are the other kids? He keeps insisting we have more children than we have! Today, he thought we had four. 

After I tell him that I’m fine, Oreo is fine, and ALL of the “four” kids are fine, he drifts off for a while. Then, the same questions return, over and over and over again. This repetition is not new, but that fact that he has no other interest in any other topic is new.

 

I tried to take him for a walk around the complex; but, as soon as we got out of the locked unit, he suddenly needed the bathroom. I can't handle him myself, so I had to take him back and get help. After that, we just stayed in his POD. I had a meeting with the medical staff where they give me an update on his treatment, medication, etc. There’s nothing they can do other than try to keep him comfortable. 

Today was too depressing to stay very long. I stayed for a two hours, then left.  

 

I used to enjoy these visits, taking him out for a drive or a meal, even if he was confused. At least he was present, aware of his surroundings, curious. These last two weeks have been different. It’s like he’s no longer there. His spark is gone. The voice is still familiar, but the man I knew is slipping further away each and every day. I hate this disease. . . 

Great News!

 

Wallowing . . .

Why is it that I can keep myself so busy, yet feel so profoundly lonely? My therapist encouraged me today, "Stay busy. Do things for yourself. Live your life." And I do, but there's still this hollow ache inside, a nagging voice that whispers, “You’re all by yourself. You have no one. You’re lonely.” 

Am I wallowing in self-pity? It definitely appears that way, at times. After all, I have so much to be thankful for that other caregivers do not. I have children who care about me, a network of wonderful friends who encourage me, and the luxury of time to care for myself; to keep myself healthy, physically fit, and mentally alert. Financially, I’m comfortable. There’s no bill collector at my door. I have everything I need and more. And my every waking hour isn’t devoted to my husband’s needs. Someone else is taking care of him. I only get to do the “fun” stuff. Yet, whenever I come home at the end of the day, after a whirlwind of activity, I feel this unmistakable slump.

 

My home greets me with silence; the kind of silence that presses down like an iron pillow. Suffocating the "light" out of me. There are no sounds echoing between my four walls, but my own voice as I catch myself talking to Oreo, or even to myself, hoping to fill the empty space. The only footsteps I hear are mine, as I wander from room to room, listening to the tap, tap, tap of my steps on the white pine floor. Perhaps if I walk long enough, I'll convince myself I’m not alone.

 

I wish I could explain these feelings, even to myself. It doesn’t make sense, especially after a full day. I’ve been to breakfast with friends, spent time writing with friends, and even laughed with friends over a game of pinocle. I came home, took Oreo over to the park for a long, brisk walk, and snacked on sharp cheese and fresh grapes. Good friends, good food, and good exercise. What could be missing?

It's been nearly two years since Bill moved into a care home, and "Father Time" continues to tick by, both quickly and slowly, all at once. But the feeling of loneliness lingers on. It’s like I’m waiting . . . but waiting for what? Am I waiting for news that he’s improved? That’s unrealistic. Am I waiting to hear that he’s had a good day? That’s always good news. Or am I waiting to hear that’s he’s declined and only has a short time left? Could I be so callous that I’m willing to rush the inevitable just so I can move on. The thought definitely lurks in the background of my mind, if I’m honest. And that makes me feel terrible.

 

This cycle of emotions I ride every day is exhausting. It’s like an elevator ride from the basement to the 105^thfloor, then back down again, over and over. Mostly I live somewhere in between, but the ups and downs wear me out. I’m so tired of it all. I want it to end. I want the lonely to go away. . . 

 

I shake myself off, tell myself to “put on my big girl panties,” and keep plugging away. "I do have a good life. I’m not really lonely. It's only in my head," I tell myself. "I can do this, can’t I?" 

My rational mind answers, "Yes, you can, because you have no choice. . .  That's the harsh reality of this disease called, Dementia."

Fun with My Rebel Friends at Shelly's Parade Event

Today was an absolutely blast! Shelly made her debut in her very first Galveston parade with her decked-out Jeep, and she asked me to take some photos. So, I put out a call on Facebook, asking for a few friends to join me. Carol, Bev, and Susan were up for it; and, wow, did we have fun! 

 

The day started bright and early with everyone meeting at my place at 8 a.m. so they could tour my new space. From there, we headed over to Galveston Bagel for breakfast. Our next stop was the Library, where we explored their museum and got to chat with some Navy Lieutenants giving a “show and tell” on the Constitution and oceanographic equipment. They even handed out goodies, including this clever little pen that doubles as a screwdriver and level! Super geeky! 

Afterward, we made our way to where Shelly and her friends, Larry and Colleen, were lining up for the parade. We snapped some photos of them prepping for the parade. 

 

Here you can see the new grill Shelly installed that look like teeth! 

We then stopped and chatting with some of the other parade participants, including this group of dancers.

Then, with an hour until the parade kicked off, we decided to go shopping. In and out of stores we went, all along Strand Street, most of which I had never been in before. I bought some jewelry and a mug. Then we sat and chatted while we waited for the parade to get to us. Shelly's jeep stole the show, of course! 

(Sorry for the dropped video in middle - I don't know how to edit!)

When the parade wrapped up, we resumed our shopping spree—but not before stopping by LaKing’s for ice cream, which we all agreed was lunch! We wrapped up our day around 3 p.m.

 

I loved getting to know these gals better! I'd known them from UU, but we’d never just hung out. Spending time with them today was a revelation—Susan, Bev, and Carol have a serious streak of adventure (and a touch of rebellion!). They even “encouraged” me to jaywalk and pull a U-turn right in the middle of the street! But, turns out, even these strong Texas women have their limits. They refused to let me make a left on Holiday Drive at a red light when I hadn’t noticed the green light was only for going straight! 😂

 

I can’t wait to see what kind of mischief we get into next!

Visit to Houston - A Good One

I missed visiting Bill last week because of the move, so I was anxious to get up to Houston to see him. My goal this visit was to take him to Fall Festival as his "escape out of the building," but I got the wrong time, again! Instead, I took him outside for a walk, got him a coke, and watched him do his exercises. Today's exercises were a bit different than I've seen before. He seems to enjoy doing them, and it keeps him moving some.

This is a kick the ball exercise.

This exercise involves throwing the ball at the paddle.

Physically, he's getting much weaker, especially in his lower extremities. In fact, they are getting him some kind of lift for getting in and out of bed, bathing, and toileting. He's a big man and trying to get him up and down is impossible for most people. It makes me sad he cannot walk anymore, especially as it indicates that he is most likely progressing towards another stage of the disease.

Bill's mood was good, which does make me happy. He has fully adjusted to being there, but he's still glad to see me when I come. And he still knows who I am! However, he is very confused about most everything else. Today, he told his lunch table mate that he has been at "this place" (the VA care home) for two months! In fact, it's been almost two years. I'm glad he thinks it's only two months. He apparently has no concept of time, which makes me feel better when I don't get up to see him as often as I would like. 

After asking about the kids and Oreo, he asked about our "other daughter." When I acted confused, he explained that she's the one we got since he has been in the care home. I have no idea who he is talking about, but my guess is that someone there seems like a daughter to him. So I now have another daughter! I'll have to find out who she is! '

The other thing he said that is mind boggling is that he believes we "won" this "vacation" in a lottery or contest of some kind. He even asked me, "Would you do this again?" I said no and he agreed. But he's determined to finish it out. The food is not so good anymore, he says. I actually thought it was better today. He's beginning to lose some of his taste buds, and the only thing he really likes to eat now is ice cream and sweets. 

All in all, it was a good day. I came home content that he was happy and being cared for. What more could I ask?

At the End Zone!

All the major areas of my apartment now look presentable. Today, I finished the craft room, or at least as much as I can for now. I still need to finish organizing everything, but I'll need to wait on that. 

The only big hurdles left are the closets. They are a disaster! Everything I couldn't figure out what to do with is in there, just piled on top of everything else. I'll get to that next week. 

Also today, Shelly helped me get the remainder of the unwanted items out of my old apartment. Now all I have to do is get it cleaned, hand in the keys, and pay my final bill. Then no more LONG RIDES to the west end! LOL! 

Tomorrow, I'm doing nothing on my apartment. I'm going to take a break from that stuff and visit Bill. They're having a Fall Festival so he'll enjoy that. 

Day 2-7 of my Move . . .

It's been a few days since my last post for good reason. It has been a whirlwind of moving furniture, getting utilities set up, unpacking boxes, and trying to figure out where everything belongs. But, today, I'm mostly settled in my new apartment. The bedroom, kitchen, and living room are livable and mostly decorated. The rest of the place - the 2nd bedroom and closets, not so much!

 

The move itself went smoothly, if not a bit long. Oreo was not happy and was glad when it was over. I have to do a shoutout to Manuel's Moving. They are excellent. Nothing broken. Friendly. And they give you a firm price. No second guessing at the end. I highly recommend them. 

Oreo, "Are we done, yet?"

On this end, it's still a bit chaotic. Only one wing of the complex is open, so there’s construction everywhere. That's why I got three months at 1/2 rent! From my patio, I can see the progress as they plant trees and flowers, install outdoor kitchens, lights, and other décor. Even though the courtyard is a work in progress, it’s already beautiful! In fact, my favorite part of the day is early morning, before the sun comes up. I sit outside on my patio with Oreo in her bed and a cup of coffee in hand, watching the palm trees sway and the lights twinkle over the pickleball court. 

Once the pickleball playing starts, the noises will change, especially with the courtyard being surrounded by walls! But it will be happy sounds, and they have to quit at 10 p.m. Hopefully, I will do as I did when I first moved into the University of Delaware. My dorm was next to a railroad track. I woke up the first night and never heard it since. 

 

Speaking of sounds, my piano has never sounded better. The high ceilings in these apartments - maybe 9 or 10 feet - give it incredible acoustics! Plus, I’m near the cruise line terminal; so, occasionally, I hear the cheerful horn of a docked ship. The wind chimes on my patio add their own special melodies, making this space feel like a personal retreat. On Friday, I bought a dining set and two rockers for the patio, so I could not only "rock" with a guest, but also enjoy meals with friends outside. Finally, I can do some entertaining again!

Oreo is thrilled with the extra space! I’ve upgraded from 725 square feet to 1200, so she has plenty of room to run around and chase her ball. She’s also a fan of the park next door, which is teaming with squirrels. Now, she can do her “big game hunting” again, something she wasn't able to do where we were before. 

           

  

Another thing I love about my new place is driving up to the third floor of the parking garage. From there, I have a perfect view of the Galveston Channel, with ships sailing in and out, and plenty of sea birds soaring by, looking for their latest meal. 

I wish Bill could share in the beauty of this place, but sadly, that’s no longer possible. It’s a bittersweet reminder as I settle in. However, for the first time since we left our home in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, back in 2017, I’m finally beginning to feel like I’m home again. It’s been a long road, but life is finally getting back to a new kind of "normal."

Day 1 of the New Apartment

Today, is DAY ONE of my move to my new apartment! 

Bill and I moved to Galveston in 2021 to be near our daughter, Shelly. We settled into a two-bedroom apartment not far from her, but when I had to place Bill in a nursing home, my budget couldn’t stretch to cover that space anymore. So, I downsized to a small, 725-square-foot, one-bedroom apartment on the western side of Galveston. This place was far from perfect—tiny, run-down, hurricane-damaged, bad HVAC, and barely holding together. It wasn’t ideal, but it got me through a tough time. 

Now that Bill is in the VA memory care, my budget has stabilized, so I decided it was time for an upgrade. My goal? To find a "forever home"—as forever as anything can be in hurricane territory—somewhere close to Shelly, who lives in the midtown area, and near the places where I spend most of my time, like OLLI and UU.

While I was searching, I came across a brand-new complex called The Cove at Galveston Yacht Basin. It was so new they weren’t even giving tours yet, but I knew this was the right spot for me. In August, I put down a deposit to snag my ideal apartment, making sure it had all the features I wanted: morning sun, a higher floor for flood safety, and a nice view. The complex officially opened last month, and I’m moving in this week!

My new place is 1200 square feet, on the 3rd floor, and overlooks a courtyard with a pool, cabanas, grills, and even a pickleball court. Maybe I’ll give pickleball another try! The convenience of this apartment is hard to beat: I can either take the elevator up or drive up to the third story of the attached parking garage and walk straight into my place. For Oreo potty breaks, I can take the 3-story stairs for more exercise! 

Here’s a fun fact—I calculated that, thanks to less traffic and central location, I’ll save about seven hours a week in travel time! That’s seven more hours to do what I love - crafting, playing my keyboard, and hanging out with friends. In the map below, you can see where I'm located on the island, where Shelly is located and where my new apartment is. The blue dot on the bottom left marks my old place.

The shipping channel and the Gulf surround this area, making it scenic and peaceful. Downtown is just a short drive (or walk) away, there’s a park across the street, with squirrels for Oreo, and everything I enjoy—like OLLI and UU—is within a mile. The ferry to Bolivar is nearby too, so Oreo and I will have plenty of places to explore on our walks.

I chose an interior unit facing the courtyard, with a view of palm trees, the pool, and the pickleball court. The exterior units didn’t have what I wanted, plus I figure this spot gives me a little more protection from hurricanes. Fingers crossed, right? 

My apartment layout below. The 2nd BR will be my crafting room. My piano will be in living room as the centerpiece - I'm determined to give a concert someday! Haha!  

Today, I'll be getting internet installed and taking over my clothes, some food, a chair or two, and one of Oreo's beds. Then back here to pack some more. I'll post some more as the week goes by. 

A Day Full of Surprises!

Yesterday’s visit with Bill was both pleasant and full of surprises. Since I’ve stopped taking him out of the complex due to his mobility challenges, I’ve had to get creative with how we spend our time “out and about.”
 
On my way to the care home, I picked up some snack pack lunches with crackers, cheese, meat, and salads, as well as cookies for dessert. I also picked up a big gift box of cookies for the staff – always a good thing to do. They love it, so I try to take them some kind of goodies once a month. 
 
When I arrived, Bill was snoring away, waiting for his exercise class to start. The residents had gotten flu shots the day before, and everyone seemed a bit drowsy.
 
It was also haircut day. We have a new female barber who does a great job with the residents. She agreed to let me photograph her in progress! He was so proud of his haircut!

Best Barber Ever! 

For lunch, we headed outside to the beautiful, enclosed patio attached to the memory care unit. It’s a safe space with locked gates, so no one can wander off. The weather was perfect, and Bill seemed to really enjoy being outdoors. 
 
After lunch, I took him for a walk to the other side of the complex where the independent living and assisted living residents live. They have it all decorated for Halloween, including several new resident skeletons! 

Later, we bumped into Bill’s psychiatrist – a delightful man who took the time to stop for a nice chat. He told me that Bill is “teaching him how to fly a Cessna” during their sessions. I mentioned how strange it is that Bill cannot remember anything from the last 30 years, but still knows how to fly. The doctor shared a story about another of his patients who consistently remembers two things: his wife and how to play the piano. He can’t read music anymore, but he’s still fabulous on the keys. Alzheimer’s is a very strange disease! 
 
We finally ended up back in his unit in time to get dessert. Although he’d already eaten lunch with me, he couldn’t resist sitting down for the sweet potato pie that was being served. While waiting for the pie to be served, we chatted with the other resident at our table who announced that he was a Texas Ranger. That’s when things got interesting. Bill replied back that he was a pilot. The Ranger quipped back, “Oh, I probably shot you down.” I wasn’t sure if that was a joke or not?!
 
Bill then went on to explain how he was a demolition expert. He followed that with a story about building a bomb and using the bomb he built to detonate another bomb. I have no idea where this came from. TV? Conversations with other residents? Or is it the truth? Don’t they have to go to a special school to do bomb demolition? Why had I not heard about this before? When I asked, Bill said, “It’s secret stuff.” 

Whether it’s true or a figment of his new imagination, Bill seemed to have a good day. He enjoyed the food, the conversation, and my visit. I left feeling happy because he was happy. What could be better than that?  

No More Wheelchair?

There are always new changes with Alzheimer’s. Today, I had to face the tough reality that I can no longer take Bill out in the car with me. His upper body is still fairly strong, but now he needs professional assistance to get in and out of the wheelchair. He’s been falling more often, and it’s become a serious risk. I can’t chance him falling while we’re out. Not only could it hurt Bill, but at my age, it could seriously hurt me too. Bill doesn’t understand why we can’t go out like we used to, but the nurses at the VA are working with me to come up with new ways for him to feel like he’s “going out.”  

Today, I drove to Houston a little later than usual so I would arrive in time for exercise class. He sees me and smiles. I can see he’s happy I’m there. Then he goes back to throwing and catching the big blue balloon, one of his favorite exercises.    

 

After the workout, we have lunch together. I had stopped at HEB on my way to Houston to pick up a veggie/fruit/cheese snack pack and two salads to supplement the lunch provided by the VA. Bill enjoyed the “goodies” and then polished off his VA meal, as well! I ate my salad and then realized the snack pack was gone before I had a chance to get any. Next time, I’ll buy two!  

 

Next, I tell him we’re going “to a party.” The VA is divided into four pods – three for independent and assisted living, and the fourth is the locked memory care unit. There’s a celebration happening in one of the other pods, and we’re invited. 

 

I buy him a coke at the vending machine and off we go. He’s delighted to be out of the locked unit, drinking his coke, and chatting with the people he meets. Most of them know who he is and call him by name. He may not remember them, but he always says hello and asks how they are doing. He definitely enjoys the attention.  

 

The VA does a great job with these events – there’s always music, speakers, and food. Sometimes they have games and prizes. It depends on the day. Today is a musical celebration. I enjoy the outing because I can just sit and talk with Bill. I don’t have to worry about transportation or fall risks. Best of all, if he needs to go to the bathroom, someone from the medical staff goes with him. I don’t have to leave my seat! 

Our Activity Director: Marilyn - What a nice voice!
Let the video run and you'll see the whole crew! 

All in all, it was a good day. Bill was happy most of the day. No sundowning. No paranoia. No accidents. No yelling or getting angry. He was sad when I told him I was leaving, but the nurse gently guided him to his room, and I quietly slipped out. 

After the long drive home, I parked the car and opened the trunk to take out the wheelchair. I rolled it into the apartment and tucked it in my closet. As I closed the door, I found myself wondering, “Will it ever be used again?” I briefly consider giving it away, but then remember my own age. “I better save it. Someday, it could be me in the wheelchair.”  

Bill and the Houston Ship Channel

Today, I decided to take Bill to LaPorte and watch the ships go by. When I got to the VA, they had him all ready to go - no problems with his Rx. So off we went on our adventures.

 First, we went to Sylvan Beach Park. Unfortunately, with his vision, he couldn't see the ships from the parking lot. So, I continued to drive up along the waterways and landed at the Monument Inn Restaurant on the Houston Ship Channel. The restaurant was listed as handicapped accessible, so I thought, "Perfect, let's grab a bite to eat here."

I soon discovered, however, that the restaurant is on the 2nd floor, and there was NO elevator in sight. Instead, I spotted a broken-down "chair lift" running up to the 2nd floor. Even if it were fixed, it wouldn't work for Bill. So, I left Bill in the foyer and went upstairs to ask how I was supposed to get him up to the 2nd floor. The staff replied, "Oh, we'll bring you up in the freight elevator."

Let me tell you - the freight elevator is an experience I do not want to repeat! We were directed through several downstairs hallways, past a scaffold where a construction crew was busy repairing the ceiling, and then into a huge, metal box. As it clanked and rattled its way up, we got a lovely view of concrete walls, wires, and metal gates.

Once upstairs, I had to push Bill through the worst part of the kitchen area on narrow, thin, blue carpets that were thrown helter-skelter over bumps, puddles, and kitchen chaos. The server that directed us, John, helped me push my husband over a 2" high obstacle that I would not have been able to navigate by myself. This so-called "path" eventually led us to the restaurant itself, where it finally became worth the effort.

First, the view was fantastic. Huge picture windows gave us a front-row seat to ships of all shapes and sizes gliding back and forth along the channel right in front of us.

Next, our server brought us a huge plate of rolls - both yeast rolls and sweet breakfast buns! I almost filled up on the bread! We both ordered seafood - a combo of fried and grilled fish, salads, onion rings and ff. The food was delicious, even though there was too much fried food for me. I enjoyed the salad, a couple onion rings and the stuffed crab.

We did meet another obstacle at bathroom time - the doors and stalls are too small for wheelchairs. With no room to navigate, we had to skip the bathroom break. Thankfully, we made the whole day without accidents. (Note to self: this place is NOT handicapped accessible even though it is advertised as such.)

The best part of the day was how happy Bill was. He couldn't stop smiling and saying what a great day it was. He laughed, talked about the 70's and 80's (currently where his mind is), and watched the ships go by. We discussed his family, the pets we've owned, our kids, his college campus, and his fraternity friends. I'm amazed at how he has no concept of time, no memories of the past 30-40 years, yet still remembers his old friends and his college town. Thankfully, we've been married since 1970, so he still remembers me!

Afterwards, we took a brief ride around the San Jacinto monument and then back to the VA.

All in all it was a successful day. But, no, I won't be taking him for a repeat visit . . . I refuse to experience the "FRIGHT elevator" ever again!

Guiding an Improved Dementia Experience (GUIDE) Model

 I wish I could explain this, but apparently there are some new resources from Medicare in 2025 for people with Dementia and their caregivers. I looked it up on Medicate and found this link:

https://www.cms.gov/priorities/innovation/innovation-models/guide

I suggest that you contact your family care practitioner and helpfully they can explain what it is and how you can benefit. Here's hoping! 

Here's a blog post about it: https://www.cms.gov/blog/guiding-improved-dementia-experience-clearing-path-comprehensive-high-quality-dementia-care

This is a little bit more clear: https://www.morganlewis.com/blogs/healthlawscan/2024/03/medicares-new-dementia-guide-model-how-can-physicians-hospices-and-home-health-agencies-participate

Bill's Birthday and "Special Angels"

Today is Bill's birthday, so my goal was to pick him up, take him for a ride, and then take him to Texas Roadhouse for lunch as that is his favorite restaurant. 

Knowing that Lasik is not our friend and that the message to the nurse to hold his Lasik a few hours has not always been easy to get to the right person, I contacted the VA three times. Yesterday, I called the Director of Nurse, April. She did not answer, but I left a message. Last night I called POD B, the memory care unit, and left a message; and this morning, I call the new day nurse on duty on POD B and talked to her on the phone. (This is the same nurse who did not give the message last time, so I told her what I wanted, asked her if she understood the message, and then told her I would be really upset if I got there and my husband had been given Lasik.)

Sure enough, I get there and the medication nurse had not gotten the message! Needless to say, I came unglued. The nurse at the desk whom I had talked to on the phone, just shrugged like it wasn't her problem. One of the nearby aids said, "Just take him out for a short while." At that, I blew up, bringing out nurses from all corners of the facility.

The medication nurse, Valerie, who is a gem, and Verna, who calls herself my "Guardian Angel," came over and asked me to come to Verna's office. Both Verna and Valerie gave me their direct phone numbers so I can call them anytime I need anything. I was happy with that, but this was Bill's birthday. How was I going to deal with Bill on his birthday?

They came up with an answer! Valerie came with me! She took care of Bill the whole time - getting him in and out of the car and restaurant, taking him to the bathroom, and making sure we had a positive experience. It was so much faster with a helper - no waiting to get in and out of the locked unit, a helper to get equipment in and out of the facility and car, and I could take care of the restaurant issues while she took care of Bill. 

So it turned out to be a good day after all, and now I have a direct number to my guardian angels! Hopefully, this will solve the problem for future visits. 

Bill had a great birthday lunch of filet mignon, applesauce, and sweet potato. The manager of the Texas Roadhouse even brought him a free brownie and ice cream for his birthday! The only downside was he had such a good time, he couldn't understand why he couldn't go home with me when I had to leave. That made me sad. And, yes, there were more tears. But I am so grateful for a caring staff who made Bill's day a good one. And, I was told there will be consequences for the "shrugging nurse." Not everyone is cut out to work in a Memory Care unit. It takes special angels to do that work, like Valerie and Verna. If you know any special angels who work in Memory Care, give them a big hug. They deserve it.