Urine and Grief

It seems my posts lately have all been urine related.  I am sorry if this offends any of the blog readers but there is not much I can do to pick topics these days.


We had several incidents this week at home.....interestingly, not many accidents happen while Gary is a day care.  We are not sure why but accident free days are accepted with glee.


Laundry seems to also be a hot topic because I do so much of it.  I cannot stand the smell of urine, fresh nor stale.  So, immediately following an "oops", I do laundry.


Weekends have now become stay-home-and-get-stuff-done days.  I make no plans to go anywhere as it is too taxing on me to take Gary away.  I have arranged for a caregiver one whole Saturday this month so I can finish arranging the garage which was mostly never organized nor unpacked.  There is probably a large charity donation in the works.  I am looking forward to that day .....just so I can be free and have no ties. Just need to feel some personal accomplishment.  Sad, I know.


I am also thankful for a carpet shampooer.  One thing I will add to my personal resume is "carpet cleaning expert".  Just because one is good at a task does not mean they like it.


"Gary, why did you turn off the t.v.?  Gary, turn the t.v. back on, please.  Yes, I will show you how."


The conversations between us are very shallow now.  Today, I came downstairs after a nap.  I listened carefully for him to awaken.  I missed it until he was in the hallway with a dripping penis.  There is no recollection in my recent life of me running upstairs as fast as I did.  I managed to pull his diaper in front of the stream to stop the flow.  I screamed "stop!!!!!! but he was in a fog....not hearing nor reacting to anything." 


After cleaning the carpet, he was sitting on the sofa apparently feeling sorry for himself.  It is amazing what he does and does not remember.  He knew he had done something to upset me but did not know what.  I was emotionally overwhelmed and put my head in his lap and started to cry.  I did not know what to expect.  In the pre-dementia days, that would have invoked an "I'm sorry" and patting my head until I recovered. 


Not anymore.  He did not move his arms from underneath the blanket and just sat there.  He did say "Oh, my."  No other response was given.  I immediately felt like I was wasting my time licking my wounds and sat up, sucked in some air and moved on to another task.  Guilt is a powerful emotion.


I have turned to the emotion of grief in moments like this.  My true husband is not there.  In fleeting moments when he does show up....well, I cherish those.


Meanwhile, I fight the waiting-on-insurance battle to start the next round of Neurology appointments.....I guess I am still holding out for a miracle.