We were sitting there all alone waiting for the eye doctor nurse to come in to choose his frames, when Dean mentioned that he was going to get photo-gray lenses this time. I told him it wasn’t possible to get them–we couldn’t afford them–and he started to go ballistic on me.
I just got up and walked out to the car and waited for him, a totally unnatural act for me. But it seemed to work for the best this time. He calmed down and when he found out himself how much the fancy lenses were, he relented and didn’t order them. He told me about it and even apologized to me when he came out to the car.
It felt so strange, as I waited for him outside the doctor’s office; I’m so used to being right by his side, wherever we go in public. I also thought about the time when another big “separation” might be in store for us. Anyone who’s spouse has dementia knows what I’m talking about. We dread the idea of long-term care here on earth, and finally that last separating farewell we must all experience someday.
Since today’s outcome was so smooth and pleasant, I have to hope that any future separation we might have will be for the best for both of us. Heaven knows, it’s only temporary.
- On a Quest (caregiving.com)
- Remind Me to Remember (caregiving.com)
- Dealing with the CWCAB and Other Agencies (caregiving.com)
- My Worst Fear: Unwanted News (caregiving.com)
- Five Questions to Determine Frailty in Your Caree (caregiving.com)
- Phone Buddies: Volunteers Provide Check-in Calls (caregiving.com)