English: Groceries store at Boqueria market in Barcelona. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I have a selfish side. I want to spend the few hours when the respite caregiver comes, for myself. I don’t want to pay bills, and I don’t want to get groceries, and I am not even sure if I want anyone around at this point. With this knowledge, I have put off for most of this week getting groceries, waiting for Al to have a better day.
I thought today was it. Al got up, said he slept well, took his shower without tears today, and seemed pretty good. I decided to go get groceries with him after lunch was over. He seemed alright with the idea, so I fixed his lunch and we took off for the store.
We get almost there and he starts complaining of pain in his leg and ankle. My fault, I didn’t have any ibuprofen with me. I should have been quiet. I should have just turned around and went back home and got him the pills and a glass of water, but I wanted my own way. I had my mind-set on going to get groceries, and by gosh I was going to do this!
He tells me that I don’t care if he is in pain. He starts the poor me story all over again. I have heard it so many times these past couple of months, I know it by heart. Not meaning to sound cold and cruel, just pointing out it is said a lot. He doesn’t give me any silence, and he is crying and icky stuff is dripping down on his shirt. I drove listening to this for another half a mile and I was in the middle of a residential neighborhood, and I don’t know what came over me, but I slammed on my brakes pulling up next to the curb. I put the car in park, and I looked him straight on, and I said, I have heard enough, I can’t take this anymore. I told him that no matter what I said to help him feel better about himself, I could not do it. I told him that he was getting very close to needing more help than I could give him, and we were going to have to discuss him living else where.
He doubled up his fist, but didn’t touch me. He told me to call the police, for why, I don’t know. He tried getting out of the car, and I told him to sit still and hush right this moment. I told him if you get out of this car, someone is going to see you throwing this fit. They are going to call the police on you!!
I told him that I loved him, and I told him that I cared. I explained to him that I would give my right arm if I could fix this Parkinson’s, but I couldn’t do it. He went on to say the same things, he can’t walk right, he can’t do anything. I got out of the car and stood against the door praying for someone to take me out of here, just get me out of here. Nothing happened. I smoked a cigarette while he sat in the car and rambled on about how bad he has it.
I finished my cigarette and got back in the car. I once again in a slow, very clear voice, told him that I know this is frustrating to him, but I loved him, no matter how fast or slow he was, no matter if he was sick or healthy. I tried my best to console him, but when he said, no one cares, I put the car in drive, and in silence drove to the grocery store.
Now I didn’t care who saw him crying, I didn’t care if he was crying. The only thing I cared about was that I was winning this one. I was getting my groceries!
We got to the store, and I did my shopping. He sat in his scooter and went so slowly, that people were having to go around him, and he cried all the way through the store. I went through the check out line, the bag boy helped me with the groceries to the car, and I drove home. Me happy that I got my food, and Al still crying.
Thank God, he is napping now.