Mellow

Al woke up today in a fairly good mood. I didn’t see any frowns or grins, no chatter and no tears. I call it the mellow stage. He ate his breakfast and then I washed him up and made his bed, and emptied the commode.

He then came out on the couch and sat down, and soon the first therapist arrived. She  makes Al work hard, I think, and although no words are spoken, I can tell he is not a happy camper.

When she is getting ready to go to her next patient, he takes her back to his bedroom and   they’re talking for several moments. I could not tell what was being said, but I could hear voices. When they came out, he sat back down, and I walked her to the door and followed her outside, asking her if he was alright, and she said he is just sad.

Just sad, do you know how much I hate those two little words? The last time I really saw him in an excellent mood was back in May at his big birthday party.  I told her good-bye, and said we would see her next week.

He stayed this way from then until now and is still the same. The second therapist came, and she works harder at trying to get Al to smile then any exercises. I think she was taking a mental break from his teary eyes, and asked me what I do, and I told her I write, and she asks what do you write. I just happened to have the poem here that I wrote last evening called, Dedicated To My Brother, and I offered it to her if she would care for a sample of my writings.

I heard her make a small moan from her throat and then I saw two tears run down her face. She handed it back to me, and said she loved it and that I should publish it. I blushed, as I always do when I get a compliment, and said thank you.

She then turned back to Al and I actually left then. I got in my car and ran to the bank real quick and then went and got gas. I had forgotten how quickly I can do things when you are not waiting on someone else to get out of the car etc.

When I returned, I asked Al what kind of exercises he had done and he said something I didn’t recognize and so I asked again, and he said he didn’t know. The therapist laughed and told me what they were called, and I asked Al if he enjoyed them and he didn’t say anything.

The rest of the time she was here, she tried kidding with him and doing her best to get a smile on his face. He just wasn’t budging, in fact he was going on to her about how he felt like he was worthless to everyone around him. She went on to try to pump him up and tell him all that he could still do, the same things that I try also day after day, but there was nothing. He stared at his lap with no tears and no expression.

I almost think I would rather have him yelling at me then to see this face. All I can do is to remember the neurologist said last week, that the part of the brain that connects with feelings is gone……………………