I woke up around 1 AM to hear husband talking to himself in the bathroom. I keep a nightlight on in the bathroom for him so he can see in the middle of the night. I got up, went into the bathroom and found him in the shower, going to the bathroom. He had wet himself. He was upset I had found him this way.
By then, the dogs were restless, so I let them outside. I heard the shower go on. Brought the dogs back in and went back to bed. I sat on the side of the bed and waited for the shower to go off. After several minutes, dogs still restless, I went into the bathroom and asked him what he was doing. He said he was taking a shower, to leave him alone. Uh, no, wasn't going to do that. I went and got him clean underwear and sat on the toilet, and waited for him to finish. Finally, he turned the water off.
And there, in the shower, at 1:30 in the morning, my husband, that big strong, hard working man, who has fought the good fight, broke down completely. He cried like no wife should ever witness again. He was leaning against the shower wall, sobbing, telling me I should put him in a home, he was a burden. I got a towel, started talking to him as I was drying him off. Told him I loved him, I was there for him, I wasn't going anywhere.
Helped him out of the shower, sat him on the toilet and finished drying him. He was still sobbing. Big, wracking sobs. Helped him to bed, where I covered him up, soothed his hair, still damp from his forehead. As I was doing so, I imagined that monster, just inside his head, laughing and mocking me.
No wife should of witnessed that. My heart is a mess.
It is now 2:30 in the morning. I cannot sleep. So, I came here.
When the sun comes up, as it always does, I will, for the first time, put my big, strong husband in diapers.
That sun, the promise of a new day. Only, that promise of a new day will mean something much more now. It will mark our final journey into the depths of hell known as the final stages of Alzheimer's.
May the Lord be with us.