Lew was standing in the kitchen doorway when I backed into the garage.  I had just done a drive-thru at the grocery store.  “I’m confused,” he began.  My heart soared.  Lew has started beginning a lot of questions with that phrase.  And it makes me happy.  Just a few weeks ago, he argued with me every time I tried to talk about with him about being a little “off.”  Now, he knows that he gets confused and is accepting the idea of having someone looking after him all the time.

He continued, “The mailman came while you were gone.  We were supposed to ask him something about the tabs on the chicken.”  Yes, he was confused.

The hospital bed was delivered Monday afternoon.  The junk room looks much smaller with the Queen bed on edge against a bookcase.  Unfortunately, the bed arrived after Lew had had a bath and his nurse had been here.  He was tired and stressed from the day’s activities.  So . . . he didn’t understand how to work the controls on the bed.  After a bit, I realized that he couldn’t see the pictures on the remote and put big labels on it.  That helped.  But he still confused the head of the bed with the foot.  (Yes, I tried telling him that it meant his head and his feet.) He caught on the next day when he was more rested.

A few days ago, we went around and around about the temperature in the house.  Lew wanted to turn the heat on.  I asked him to tell me what he thought the temperature was in the house.  His reply, “10:53.”  When I asked him what time it was, he said, “Its the same.”  I told him that it couldn’t be the same.  He looked at his watch and told me it was “Twelve degrees.  No, its 15 degrees.  It keeps changing!”  He was looking at the seconds on his digital watch.

No, he’s not like that all the time.  Most of the time he’s totally together.  I know when he’s just waking up, he may confuse his dreams with reality — he’ll be fine in a few minutes.  But if something sets off his confusion the rest of the time, I don’t know what it is.

Other than that, he’s doing pretty good.  We seem to have gotten a handle on his meds and have his pain and nausea under control.  Something I’ll pass along that worked — instead of taking drugs on an “as needed” basis, he’s on a schedule — around the clock.  I have three alarm clocks in the bedroom set for intervals during the night.  His most important time of the day — 5:00am.  He was getting up with the heaves every morning.  Now, I wake him at 5:00 and pour a bunch of stuff in him and let him go back to sleep.  When he wakes later, he’s fine — no nausea!

They had digital alarm clocks on sale at the drug store.  I bought two.  And I bought an analog alarm clock to replace my travel alarm that I broke a week ago (It was an accident, I swear.  I knocked it on the floor while I was trying to turn it off.  I didn’t throw it.).  So, with all these alarm clocks, I’ve decided, contrary to what you hear on TV, analog is better than digital.  With an analog clock, I can set the alarm to go off at 5:00am and 5:00pm!  I don’t need two clocks to do the task of one.

So . . . there’s not a whole lot more.  I’ve taken Benny to the park a few times.  Unfortunately, I kicked up enough dirt that my chair is squeaking now.  So, now I’ve got to learn how to get the dirt out of all the joints and bearings.

I haven’t been making an effort to get out of the house.  This week I had a doctor’s appointment.  Hospice arranged for a stranger to “visit” with Lew while I was gone.  He did exactly what his nurse told him not to do — he sat in the living room and visited.  Since I was gone so long, he finally pooped out and went to bed.  But he was really tired that evening.

Don’t bother, everyone else has already lectured me about “taking care of myself.”  I’ll work on it.  I promise.