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. . .
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