2:30 AM

"Honey, I think I need to go to the hospital."


Not the kind of thing you want to hear at 2:30 AM.


So a little backround. 
Hubby has had several "bad" days. Until you come face to face with dementia on a daily level, it's difficult to understand the terms, good days and bad days. At least it was for me. Oh I had been around other people with dementia before, this isn't my first walk around the block with it. Hubby's mother had it. She lived in our home for a few months and at the time I was only vaguely familiar with dementia.

I knew what dementia was but didn't KNOW what dementia was. Every day was a bad day as far as I was concerned. I had 3 kids under the age of 12, a moody and emotionally unwell husband, his brother with Downs syndrome and his mother all to care for. It was also during this time that Hubby was admitted to a 9 week instay PTSD program at the veterans hospital. To add to the joys of the situation, Hubby, being the friendly "Let me take care of you buddy" sort that he is/was, invited complete strangers to come and stay with us while they had "weekend down time" at the hospital. People that were in from other states or had no place to go on the weekends.


I have to admit that we met some of the most wonderful people and I am still friends with to this day. I am blessed to know them.


So combine all ingredients and mix well. Every day was a bad day for dementia.


fast forward....


It's strange that a few months ago I would have considered Hubby's agitation as bad  and yet these days still bad, just not as bad. When exposed to something for long periods I suppose we get used to it.
But last night, Hubby got himself all kinds of  annoyed. Apparently he has been on brain overload the last few days. Angry thoughts and outbursts of moving away and living alone. Driving and taking back all the things I'm "stealing" from him. He found my purse and took all the money out of it. I never said a word about it not wanting to add to his emotional decline. He spoke of his death and how much longer he thought he would have to live like this. He debated about not taking his meds in hopes the process might speed up but me not confirming that possibility finally compounded enough last night to send him into an anxiety attack.


Hubby has never had an anxiety attack before and when he woke me from the sleep I had finally found, I had to survey the situation and make a judgment call. I fear of hospital admittance and new meds. I know that with Lewy Body, some meds can have serious side effects that are irreversible. Meaning sending him deeper into Lewy and not bouncing back. Perhaps I am selfish in keeping him away.


Hubby was shaking so severely almost as though he was having chills just not quite jerking like a seizure. He couldn't stop shaking. First thing I did was check for body temp. He wasn't feverish, neither was he cold to the touch. He was crying as he tried to talk to me about how he couldn't stop shaking and he couldn't stop thinking and he had never been like this before. As he spoke I assessed that he was experiencing panic. 


My poor Hubby. I felt helpless to do anything. I snuggled up close to him and held him tightly. I spoke in calming words to assure him he was in the best place he could be. That I would do everything in my power to make sure he was safe and comfortable.I told him I realized his frustrations and I wished beyond all wishes I could change things for him but I was not able to. So I would just love him. He cried and shook all the more. At one point he told me he even thought about shooting himself  but didn't think he had the nerve to do it. (FYI- NO weapons in the house) Then said he even wondered if I would do it for him but he decided I would not. I agreed with that and I held him as tight and as close as I could.

I snuggled into his neck close to his ear and verbally prayed for him and his peace and calmness in the name of Jesus. 

After a few mins Hubby seemed to relax and his shaking started to go away. I lay there breathing on his neck and listening to him breathe. A few more mins passed and Hubby settled down almost completely. Enough that he was able to rise and walk to the bathroom with minimal problems.

On his return to the bed we snuggled up again and fell asleep. He rested fairly well the remainder of the night.
Or maybe that was me.


Hubby thought he wanted to go do something today but as the morning passed I woke him to see if he was still interested. He was not. It is now 12 hours later from his panic attack. He sleeps. I listen to his rhythmic breathing and even woke him one to see if he needed to use the rest room. I know how frustrated he gets when he lays asleep too long and there is a need to get cleaned up and change bed sheets upon rising.


I love Hubby.

I don't like leaving these posts in doom and gloom so I am going to share a smile we shared from a couple of weeks ago. I had it all typed out and never posted it. Not sure how that happened so here it is

Conversation with Hubby: "Is my... (long silence) well, I guess it is, or isn't, or aint."

Me: "Before I could answer that question I would need to know what you are talking about."

Hubby: looks at me, smiles and says, "I have no idea what I'm talking about" 

We both just broke out laughing! LOL!!

It's always good when we can share a laugh.