In my effort to reach more of the Caregiving community, I am shifting to a new blog to follow the journey through this illness. So from now on dear followers...track me here.
It has been a beautiful day full of sunshine and almost summer like weather. I was determined to get to the last of the winter sales today. Life has just not permitted earlier participation. I wanted some flannel sheets for our bed before they disappeared from the shelves. We had received some for Christmas and just loved them and wanted more. My daughter offered to take hubby away for coffee but he insisted on coming with me so off to the Mall we went.
We enjoyed prowling through Macy's and he was tagging along through the linens. We were out of luck with the flannel sheets. All gone, nada mas, but we splurged on some thick wonderful towels on sale. He seemed to be enjoying the excursion and we had a good time.
On reaching the car I suggested lunch out on the way home and we headed to Cracker Barrel as we love their vegetables or at least I do. Out of the clear blue on the way there hubby began to rail about the unconnected water hose in the back yard. I assured him that when the yard man came, he would connect it again. And then he was angry that he had appointments at Johnson Space Center and he would have to be let off at the gate. He was really going off on it. I assured him that if he gives me the dates, I would work to get him there.
We sat down to eat and he angrily started in again about not getting to JSC. I just told him to stop, that I didn't want to hear anymore about it. He did.
But what I'm struck with is how the Alz brain flips around. What is it that triggers these thoughts to come roaring forward? The memories are stashed in there somewhere behind a tiny little door but who or what is it that turns the door knob and opens up the door? Is it an emotion? An image? A word? It is fascinating to me and a great mystery. This man is brilliant, kind and generous to a fault and it is like that guy is hiding in there somewhere behind his frustration.