Happy New Year!
We have never been into big New Year's Eve celebrations so we're not missing that tonight. I suspect Tom has been asleep for hours--at least I hope that's the case. After I fold the clothes in the dryer, I'll be off to sleep myself. There will be fireworks at midnight, accompanied by dogs barking. I'll roll over and keep on snoozing! I do miss being with Tom, watching one football game after the other. Without him I'm not doing so well keeping up with who is playing and when. I wish that was the only thing I missed about his not being here. I've been reminded of our first year of marriage when we missed all our "firsts" while he was in Vietnam. At that time we looked forward to our whole life spread in front of us. It's different now. Tom won't get better; I'd settle for a little consistency.
Who ever thought it was a good idea to transfer a patient to a nursing home at night? I'll never understand the rationale for that. One of the worst things about moving at night was having a glitch in his medication schedule. You can't take medicines with you even if they come from the hospital and everything he needed wasn't available that night or until late the next day. It's been hard for me to determine when he's confused if it's a result of the medicine problem, a natural reaction to being in the home or if his confusion is getting worse. Last night he struggled to understand what we were doing there and wondered when we could go home. Today his mind was better, but he was exhausted from a hard work out in physical therapy. He sent me home about 4:30 p.m. because he couldn't stay awake.
We anticipate changes when he comes home, primarily in the area of securing more help. He is extremely weak, though working hard to regain some strength--if only he could. At times I ask myself a question to which I already have the answer. If we could see into the future when we take our marriage vows, would we commit to stay faithful forever? When you're young and in love, nothing else matters. You see endless years of being together, raising a family, building a life together and enjoying retirement when the time comes. Along comes a crisis--or two--and you learn exactly what your vows mean and what true love is. During some exceptionally hard times with chemo when Tom has held my hand and taken care of me, we grin and repeat: "in sickness and in health," knowing that we've gotten a lot of mileage out of that one. Now it's my turn. He's thin, he's weak, he's confused, but he's the love of my life and that will never change.
Yes, I'd marry him again and again and again.