Bo is in the kitchen – alone – and I can’t leave him there without watching him every minute; I can see him from here. I’ve been doing “full time duty” since I got home from Florida on Sunday night — that’s 72 hours of caregiving (plus tonight and tomorrow morning. That will be 84. ) Then Jon and I will return to sharing; I wanted him to get a break.
Last night Bo was up 7 times, so I was up 7 times with him. Today, he got up about an hour after I got up, and has been going strong since then. He has been active — gone through the plants, all of our Christmas cards (which he can’t read), the Sunday NY Times (which he can’t read), spilled food at each meal, made a soapy mess at the kitchen sink, wrapped the TV controls up in newspaper and threw them away; tore his napkin into small pieces and mixed them into his orange juice; moved furniture, and asked questions I couldn’t understand. Just couldn’t settle.
I just got him to lie down on the sofa and quickly sat back at my computer, but he was up immediately. I never know if he might get up right away looking for something else. In truth, he wants to go, to go somewhere. Home? I tell him we’re going nowhere; we live here; and anyway, it’s snowing and I don’t plan to drive. He says, “Oh, OK” and five minutes later tries again.
Jon pointed out to me today that he sees a decrease in Bo’s perception He tries to pick up the flowers in the carpet, wants to eat the flowers on the plate. He can’t connect ideas. You may say that something is in his pocket and he’ll point to the book case: “Here?” Then the table: “Here?” What we can’t figure out is if he doesn’t understand the names of things, the whole idea or just part of the sentence. He needs to go to the bathroom but can’t tell me today, just holds himself. Tomorrow he may be better.
The Hospice nurse told me yesterday that she sees him as being on a plateau. It can go up or down.