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Dang It!
2008-07-16, 2:16 p.m.

Day 1424

Actually had something all done up ahead of time, bragging on a local band we’re (we being Cindy & I, two brothers & their wives) (oh – the band is The Mambo Kings) and I left it at home, on my dresser, chillin on my thumb drive. Dang it. Maybe I’ll torture you with it tonight. Time to pay some bills, so while I’m screwing around with that, I’ll dig up that post.

Aaaaanyhow. Took The Bob to see a geriatric specialist today. More specifically, this Doc specializes in Alzheimer’s/dementia cases. We’ve been seeing him for almost a year now, but this is the first time Cindy or I have actually met him. We also had the contract social worker from Bob’s swinging bachelor pad there as an additional advocate.

After this appointment, I’m more confident that we are heading in the right direction. Still in a wait and see mode though. Bob’s seroquel was increased 2 weeks ago and so far, his moods seem more even. Less anxiety & paranoia, back to his old charming self. One thing that hasn’t changed is that he still tries to BS everybody as a cover for him not remembering a flippin thing. I think we all see through that. I know Cindy & I do, I’m pretty sure the social worker does. I would expect that the doc and his PA’s would see through it too, but they have no basis for comparison, so we’re left to gently remind Bob about the true sequence of events in response to some of the doctors questions. It was kind of sad to see that after relating the stories of the late night calls to his place (at the bequest of the local police) Bob had absolutely no memory of the event. In private, he might object a bit and accuse us of making stuff up, but in public he just admitted to having no recollection of events as we told them. Kinda like President Reagan back in the day.

Since I had to sneak out of work to wander 3 or 4 miles down the road to the hospital for The Bob’s appointment, there was no bike riding in to work today. Couldn’t talk Cindy into swinging by to pick me up on her way through. Would have been a bit of a detour for her, but still, a guy can’t even get picked up by his wife? I’ve clearly lost my touch with the ladies.

Which is ok actually. Losing my touch – at least temporarily. I was practicing detachment last night & this morning.

Eric was off work yesterday. We put him on dinner detail. Man, I love having kids that like to cook (and are good at it). While we were doing something in preparation for dinner, Eric indicated to me that Cindy had been pounding a few since she got home from work. I had suspected as much, but once he confirmed it, the little tell tales were more evident. Nothing terrible. No stumbling, mumbling, falling down the stairs crap. Instead, it was what I refer to as “Ratchet Jaw”. Couldn’t shut up if you taped her mouth shut. Volunteering too much information. Forced cheeriness. On a Tuesday night. That’s a new one lately. Thursdays and one day on the weekend I’m sadly getting used to. Time to practice what Annette and I talk about in therapy – shorten the feedback loop. Better to let her know NOW how her impromptu drinking spurt makes me feel - insecure, worried we’re headed back to where we were last summer and a little pissed off that I give up what she asks of me (not seeing Ms. CL that way anymore) but she continues to flaunt what I asked her to give up.

Re-doing the kitchen served two purposes for her. First, she just wanted it done. We got more space, upgraded appliances, better use of cabinets, cleaner traffic flow and granite countertops. How can you not like that? Second – after spending all that time and effort, how likely am I to leave? These next projects – deck, laundry, hell, ALL of them serve to make me more attached to the house/property and less likely to want to leave, regardless of how badly she behaves.

I don’t know that that is what she’s thinking. But a very wise lady (Hi Circe!!) once told me that the addict will do ANYTHING to maintain the link to their drug of choice. In Cindy’s case this would be getting me more invested in our house of 15 years in order to get me to overlook the fact that she is changing little or nothing in her behavior. Devious, no?


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old habits - new tricks