Today we have the first visit from our home healthcare provider. This was arranged by DH‘s primary care physician to step in until we have the assessment required to determine whether he needs a nursing home or whatever.
An RN will be here at 11:30 to start the process and see what is needed. He definitely needs help with bathing daily as it takes him forever on his own and he does not want me to help. You wouldn’t believe the fights we get into when I try to help him out. The looks that man gives me would freeze a bear in its tracks. Even with the dementia eating most of his brain he has not lost ANY of his personality.
We’ve always had this push me push you relationship. I am so surprised we’re still together after 35 years. If he hadn’t worked 80 hours a week for the first 22 years I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be together now. I remember how I couldn’t wait for him to retire so we could spend time together ……………… and how he retired and started showing me how to vacuum and do laundry, etc. Well after I got done being pissed off – I just let him vacuum and do laundry. I figured that those weren’t things that – you know – ah made my life pleasant – so let him do it.
I remember once after we’d moved to our first purchased home he came to me and said “the toilet smells”. Ha. Like the young, idiotic woman I was – I went and cleaned it. Now I would say “Well why don’t YOU clean it?”
Being only 9 years younger than my mother, he has a different generational view of house chores. As in I do all of the inside work and he does the outside. Only problem is inside work is all the time – outside once a week or so.
I am so happy that I have help coming. I hope they give me their cell phone number in case he does a whoopsie. No, you say? You mean I will still have to wipe crap off the walls. Oh. Too bad.
I’ll lay a bet Mr. Persnickety pants isn’t obnoxious when the home healthcare worker is here! And now for DS – well he’s making noises like well if only they help us with this or that or this then maybe Dad won’t have to go to a nursing home. I’m not sure where he’s getting the US from since I do all the clean up, the assisting, the laundry, the mopping, the whatever. And I remember that it was DS who threw a big fit about how we couldn’t do this anymore that started this whole process. Now he’s whimping out. Maybe he can go to the nursing home with his Dad and I can have peace and quiet? No, you say? Ok ………………….