Last night, we went to Tom and Linda's for a music night. We've been doing this for months, and we have things down to a routine.
I, personally, have noticed some deterioiration in Don over the past few weeks, but I don't think he had really acknowledged to himself that there was any digression. He always uses his rollator (a walker with wheels and a seat) to get into Tom's, because there's no other way for him to get in. I shot Tom a glance when he came out to the car to help us in, letting him know that Don was going to need help. When Don first approached the back steps, he said something like, "Now, I think I can do it, but stay close, Tom." I knew better. He couldn't even make it up the first step without Tom's lifting his leg to help him place it on the step. He was exhausted by the time he got to the top. Then, he was just SURE he could do it alone when it was time to go back down to come home. Not to be.
When we got home, I could tell he was troubled. He laid down on the loveseat and closed his eyes, so I didn't bother him. When we got in bed, I asked him if he wanted to talk - and he did. We chatted for a while about the illness, what it's doing to us, how it's changing our lives, and how blessed we are to have each other and such wonderful family and friends. After we talked a while, his spirits were lifted and he was ready to go to sleep.
My life has had less tragedy than many - at least I feel that way. We've been truly blessed, both on the Ellis side and the Stewart side. I continue to pray for a complete healing. Until that comes, Don and I are pledged to making the best life possible for him. Tina Turner sings, "What's Love Got to Do With It?" I reply, "EVERYTHING!"