Red Light. Green Light.


Red Light. Green Light.

In Wal-Mart parking lot and my husband calls from the nursing home. He says he is doing p.t. in his room and he has a fever of 101. I freak. What would you do? Part of my mind is not putting together the p.t. with the high fever but I ignore a practical sign and go straight to THE FLU. We hang up and I call the nurses station and ask them about his fever and they seem confused. He is running a low grade fever of 99.1 or 99.2. They do not consider that a fever. I do. I run low on normal days so 99+ feels like a fever. Still I have wasted perfectly good adrenaline yet again. I weigh the options and always come down on the side of wasted adrenaline. He may have the facts right one of these phone calls. Better to err on the side of vigilance as opposed to being nonchalant. But there are times when I want to bop him on the head. He has no idea of the sequence of events he sets off. Usually, he is confused about what he says and doesn't remember the details and wants to know if I am going to come visit him on Friday. I tell him it is Friday and he asks, "Really?" and I remind him that I am coming on Sunday and hang out for awhile. He thinks for a few seconds and declares that a great idea. I am certain he will call tomorrow wanting to know if I am out of church. He will probably feel just fine and wonder why I was concerned about him.

Saturday - I went to see Robert for a few minutes and took him a candy bar. He told me he gets homesick when he does not have p.t. I suggested he ask them if he can get in his wheelchair and tool around the facility for awhile. He needs the exercise and the contact with people. He didn't answer and did not seem upset so I have no idea what he did with that suggestion as it passed through his mind. I am going to see him tomorrow and we have planned that he will allow me to get him into the wheelchair and we will hang around the facility and maybe let him practice walking a bit. One thing I have learned is that the plans we make today may melt like cotton candy before I get to the home tomorrow. He is always watching some movie with soldiers or martial arts or just plain kill or be killed. He rarely knows the name of what he is watching but he often knows the plot.

My time with him is bittersweet. His mind is better than his body most of the time. I often feel as if I am trying to run between raindrops when interacting with him. One request will be offset by an opposite and equal resistance. It happens all the time but I never seem to catch on before getting completely confused. He doesn't get confused. Another playing ping pong on a warped tabletop. I swing and miss and he somehow knows where the ball is going when it gets back to him. Not that it makes much sense in the scheme of things but I find myself off balance and wondering if I am missing a key ingredient. I am thinking that I would do well to accept the insanity and stop analyzing it. How can I analyze this journey with my husband? Neither one of us has ever encountered anything like these days in our lives. Every day is a go/don't go day. The rules today are changed by the events tomorrow. I am not even complaining. Just stating facts.

I am running out of words. Imagine that! Jeez, call the word police. I am going to stop and refresh my brain by pretending to do housework. Ain't that special?

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Running between raindrops...those are the most telling of words.


Wow, what a powerful phrase, \"running between raindrops\". Thank you for continuing to share here, Lark.

Lisa Cozart

Call the nursing home.\n