It's been a rough few days. Jim has needed more than the typical attentiveness from me. I'm tired, but cannot sleep, which is unusual for me. Jim doesn't know who I am. But he is certain I am not Carole.
Jim's anxiety has been pretty high the last few days. This has required super high attentiveness on my part. It requires a presence; not just being in the house with him, but being in close proximity. I tire of the endless TV that helps to keep him entertained. My relief from the endless stuff on TV is my beloved math puzzles, KenKen. I love the challenge, and it actually is relaxing to me. I print one out, put it on a clipboard and go to town on solving it. My favorite ones are the 9x9, with 4 operations, expert level. I can claim no credit for my skills in this department; I inherited my math skills from my dad.
But today was different. Jim took the clipboard from my hand and made some disparging comment. So, I set it aside, and focused on the mindless TV show he was watching. So much of what he said today was nonsensical. As I listened to him talk, it was almost like I was observing someone with a psychiatric break in reality. But that is what dementia can sound like. Words put together that don't make sense.
This is so incredibly sad. Jim doesn't know I am Carole, his wife. Who does he think I am? When I attempted to show him our wedding picture, rings etc, it did not change his thinking.
We finally went to bed, but he could not sleep. At one point he said "You have to go home."
Me: "I am home. I am here in our home that we have shared for many years."
Jim: "You're confusing me. You need to go home."
Me: "Why don't we wait until the morning to sort this out?"
Jim: "But you can't sleep in this bed. There is a third party...."
So, I said that I would sleep on the sofa because it was so late, and we would figure it out in the morning. He accepted this.
What will tomorrow morning bring? I don't know.
Most days I feel strong, and I know that I can do this. But in weak moments like tonight, I question myself and my ability to stay strong. I know we need help. And there is comfort in knowing that help is on the way.