Not a Good Morning

Yesterday when Al came home and I took him off the bus;  he was in a good mood. He chatted during supper. After he was finished he read his first card from Melanie R. from Maryland. It was so adorable. It had a photo of her and her cute dog. Also there was a photo of her cat. The card was adorable.

I didn’t realize that Al could not see very well any longer. I knew he was having issues, but I didn’t realize it had gone this far. I felt so sad inside, but read him the card and put a magnifying glass in front of him so he could see the photos. He smiled so I want to give a big cyber hug and thanks to Melanie for making his day.

The evening went well and then right before I placed him in bed, the illness showed its snake tongue.

His nice personality went from nice to naughty. He was having problems with the buttons on the TV remote again, so I was helping him. He then went on to blame himself, curse the illness and cry.

I was forced to get him one of his pills so  he would have some sort of peaceful night. After taking the pill and tucking him in, saying I love you, I turned the lights off and came out to the living room where my good friend the computer sits.

I could hear Al cussing me out. I am not sure why but this went on from cursing me to his disease and to the TV remote. Finally the pill took effect and I then went to bed.

This morning was no better. He said that he had a bad dream. He went on to say, ” mom and dad had a program and they wanted me to do something in it. I tried but I couldn’t do it.”

I asked him, “did either of them get upset with you?”

“No, they didn’t get mad, I was sad because I couldn’t do what they asked.”

I explained about the illness and what it is doing to his body. I told him that his lack of walking, tremors, bad eyes, that it is all due to the illness and nothing that he did. He and I talked about this during his wash-up time.

At the breakfast table he could not swallow his morning medications. One by one pill dipped in applesauce I got them in his mouth, but then he could not swallow his orange juice.

I was beginning to panic a little. I had him take a bite of his french toast and then chew that the best he could and then take another swallow of juice. He finally got that all down. When it came time to take a bite of his breakfast sausage, he chewed it to death. He didn’t swallow it. Once again we went through the slow motion and I stayed by his side during the meal in case I had to save him from choking.

He cried and cried. I tried to talk to him about the good things he can still do, but his mind just wasn’t willing to accept anything I said. I brushed his teeth for him and cleaned him up and then when it was time to get on the bus, he was still crying.

The bus driver looked at Al and without any cue from me patted Al on the shoulder and said, “let’s go pick up those ornery girls next. You and I can pick on them.”

I thanked him for his words, both of us hoping that the girls would take his mind off his illness.

FYI

If you want to send Al a card to uplift his day, please email me at

tellmenolies2004@yahoo.com

for our address.