Life is precious. You hear this over and over again when there is an issue about abortion. I am not going there, I am going with the thought that life is precious when you are suffering for 12 years. When your memory fails you day after day, more and more. First it is the little things.
Oh! Did I take my meds today? Did I miss an appointment with the hairdresser? Did I call you today?
then it goes on to : you are stealing from me. Everything in this house is mine, mine, mine.
That usually follows by items just disappearing from their usual place. Could be your toothbrush, you rings, a can of tomatoes, all the toilet paper you bought yesterday.
After the years, the look in the eyes looks blank. Who is this person? Who are you? What is this place?
Then there is the wet diapers, the wet bed, chairs, and the poop which goes into the waste paper basket, not the toilet. Some stuff towels, soap, anything into the toilet, others do not remember what the toilet is for.
The plumber knows you by your first name and knows the guilty one too. He smiles at him/her, this is regular business for him.
The opening and closing doors, all day long. The fridge does not have time to cool off. Forget the freezer working well.
The locks are being broken. The umbrellas are looking like a modern art piece. Everything mechanical needs to go with force. Reaction to actions does not exist anymore.
Dogs and cats get fed tons of milk. That is what most elderly did when they were young.
Try and shave someone who does not want you to touch him.
Try and shower or wash someone who decided water was his/her enemy.
Is that life still precious?
What do they really know???What are the thoughts during the day and the running around till 4 am lost in your own home. What are the thoughts?
I have no answers for any of this.
But I do question it.
On line one lady having a bad day wrote :
They shoot dogs when they become that ill.
I dread the day when this human being who no longer is my husband will leave me. I am attached to him like a magnet but I do believe when he will leave us that I will be relieved.
This is no longer a precious life for him. It just can't be.
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