"Broken cable box"

Yesterday was rather calm compared to the previous days. Husband was still in a "state", but, gradually, as the day wore on, seemed to come out of it.

When Jack got home from school, I took husband with me as I ran a few errands. I had to pick up a few things at the grocery store. Husband stayed in the car. When I got back out, he told me he had been people watching. Commented that he thought it was fun to people watch.

Later in the evening, he called me from the bedroom to say his cable box had "broken again". Husband has forgotten how to operate his remote and will press every button on the remote to change the channel or turn the volume up. It whacks out the cable box. I go in, he's in a panic, saying I need to call the cable company and tell them what they can do with this "broken cable box", again.

I, being the ever so patient wife, (uh, ok, not so patient wife), ignore him, re-set the box, and, like magic, it comes back to life. Husband looks at me like I'm some kind of magician and declares me a miracle worker. I don't have the heart to tell him all you have to do is re-set the box. He wouldn't remember how to do it anyway.

I go back out to the living room, Jack asks me what was going on, I tell him, he says, "Oh, he's always doing that mom. He looks at the remote like he's never seen it before, and starts pushing all the buttons." Jack and I have a chuckle over that.

Some of the things husband does, IS funny. Sad, but, well, funny. I have to laugh when I can.

This disease is so awful, so sad, so heartbreaking, that, at times, I don't think I can take anymore, then, husband does something funny, quirky even, that you have to laugh. Not at him, mind you, but for him, for me.

For the past few days, there has been no seizure activity in the night. A lot of tremors during the day however. His hands shake all the time. His legs tremor as he tries to walk using the walker. He looks as if he will topple over at any moment when he tries to use the walker. Soon, we will have to use the wheelchair all the time, and put the walker away for good.

Each and every morning, I look for something good in this day. Each and every morning, I get a fresh slap in the face when my husband opens his eyes and I immediately start looking for signs of brain dysfunction, seizure activity and loss of motor skills. Once I have done "inventory" on husband, I calculate what this day will bring.

And so it goes.