I think we are on a plateau now. Husband is the same every day. Wants to go "home", has to be shown where the bathroom, bedroom and kitchen are. I explain what a toilet is, what a front door does and how to work his TV.
Hospital bed will be ordered today. I got up this morning, he was in bed. Went to the bathroom, came back in the bedroom and there he was, face down on the floor with his head wedged in between the nightstand and the bed. OK, enough of this.
I tried explaining to him what this "new" bed will do. He doesn't understand. He thinks I am locking him in a bad bed. Locking? Well, sort of. I've got to make sure he is secure.
There are times when I do fall asleep, I sleep so soundly from pure exhaustion, that I don't hear him. Another reason for the hospital bed. Imagine, I will go to bed at night like normal people do and possibly sleep? Oh, just the thought makes me excited.
I am also going to call Hospice. Medicare pays for it, so why not use it?
I had them come out about 2 years ago. They said he was just not ready at that time. I agreed. Well, the time is right now. She told me back then that in order to qualify he had to have had a terminal diagnosis (got that one), and not be able to feed, dress, bathe, go to the bathroom without assistance or walk. Well, wonder of wonders. We have met all the criteria now. Let's hope they can come 2-3 times per week.
It's times like these that make me uneasy. I know he will slip away even further from me, just don't know when. We could be on this plateau for a few days to even a few weeks. Just when I get used to the situation, right out of left field comes a new onslaught.
I am more or less prepared. Just gotten used to it. This phase won't last, I know that from experience. What comes next is always hard for me to adjust. It throws me for a loop at times because I try to prepare myself, but, when it happens, it's so sudden and devastating, that, I find it hard to catch my breath.
So, today on the agenda: Call for Hospice and order a hospital bed.
How fun is that?