I Am Much More Content Now that I've Rewritten the Script

Photo by Gift Habeshaw on Unsplash

I’m Not Putting This on Caring Bridge 

Mr. J and I were down in the laundry room, transferring laundry from the washer to the dryer. I couldn’t help but notice my feet were damp. Turns out, the screen we keep on the hose into the wash sink, was completely covered in lint, and water spewed out at weird angles, including all over the floor. “Could you. . . “ I say. “Yes,” Mr. J says, and wanders up the stairs. Because I had oh so cleverly purchased some additional screens when I put the last one on. Pretty impressive, don’t you think?  “They are at the top of the stairs,” I call. Meanwhile, I transfer laundry from the washer to the dryer. I start the dryer. I load the washer. “Hey, babe,” I call out just as Mr. J came back into view. He had a dog poop bag in his hand. As he was saying, “I forgot what I was looking for,” I was asking, “Did you forget what you were doing?”  Oddly, (or not) it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did the first time this sort of thing happened. Or the second time. Or the eleventh time. . .  

I’m Not Putting This on Caring Bridge Either 

Last night, Mr. J opened up his Yeti, which was filled with ice. Somehow, all of the ice was propelled upwards and landed all over his lap and the floor. “Whoa,” he said. “That’s cold.” “Can I help?” I asked. “I’m freezing!” he said. His brain was far more focused on the reality of his current situation and the coldness of the ice, and not remotely concerned about the ice melting on the wood floor as well as in his lap. I got him a towel and helped clean it up. “I don’t know how that happened,” he said with wonder. This episode, like the first, never happened in the before times. It frankly doesn’t happen all that often now. Or maybe I’m just getting used to it.  

Caring Bridge Adds to My Stress 

In the beginning, I documented every deviation from “normal” on Mr. J’s Caring Bridge page. I wanted to do it mostly for the doctors, but also so I didn’t have to have 99 conversations about every little thing. 

Fun fact: the doctors don’t want to hear the stories. They say, “Yep. That sounds about right.” Another fun fact: the family doesn’t want to believe he’s dying. The family - well, some of the family - loves to push back. Therefore, I will not put these episodes on his Caring Bridge page, like I have done so many times in the past. I will not put this on his Caring Bridge page because his aunt Dee will surely be compelled to write me an email, telling me this happens to her all the time. “Oh, I just did that yesterday,” someone else will text me. Or, “Jim just did that exact same thing last week.” Mr. J’s obviously not ill. Just confused in their book. They insist it is not evidence of a degenerating brain. At! All!!  IT’S NORMAL!   So I’m not going to do it anymore.

Not Engaging Adds to My Contentment

Getting used to having a dying spouse is a monumental task. It’s been 18 months and I’m still not completely used to it. But I have been doing it long enough to know what isn’t helpful. Getting feedback telling me the Doctors are wrong isn’t helpful. But that’s for another post. Today, I am just keeping Mr. J’s secrets and holding on to my contentment.