The Wanderer

It happened again. Yesterday, at the Pharmacy, there was a mix up in husband's meds. Once we got it all straightened out, they said the wait would be about 1 hour. I was not happy about it, but, there was nothing I could do about it.

I turned around to go sit down and husband was gone. I looked all over the waiting area, checked outside and decided he had gone to the restroom. Waited, he never came out of the restroom. In a slight panic, I went outside again, looked over the parking lot, looked towards the car, and there he was, sitting in the car. Looking like he was lost, so lost. I motioned for him to come here. Once he got back to me, I asked him what was he doing. He was so confused, didn't know how he had gotten to the car, thought we were leaving, didn't know what was going on. I reminded him that we had to wait for his Rx.

Once I got him back inside, he seemed to calm down. I talked to him, trying to amuse him. After awhile, it worked. I asked him to stay with me at all times when we are out. He nodded his head, like a little boy being scolded by his mama. From now on, he will have to be watched continously.

Once we finally left the pharmacy, I suggested to husband that he use the ramp instead of the stairs. He said no, he could do it. As he was stepping down, his legs started to tremor. I looked at him, he looked at me. I asked him if he needed help getting the rest of the way down. All I could think of was him falling and hurting himself. He said, "Oh, no, my legs are shaking because it's so cold." Oh, OK.

I knew all this would happen. I did my research, I know what is going to happen. But, when it actually happens, well, it really, really slams you in the face.

People now stare at us. They watch the way husband walks, they can see "the look" now, it's so present. As we walk by, we are looked upon with pity now. Children stare at him now. I want to announce to everyone, "Please, don't stare. He's a very sick man, he's going to die, he's a husband too, he's a daddy too, he's loved too, he's still a somebody too."

He will always be a "somebody" to me.