Daddy is about the same as he has been. A contractor is busy at their house trying to set it up to make it handicapp accessible. He's making a larger bathroom for the basement where Daddy will live if and when he comes home from the nursing home. At first I thought it was a definite that he would come home, now I'm not so sure. Mom is very discouraged with his "walking". Daddy has been talking about walking with the therapist and the other day Moma got to see this "walking" for herself. She was highly discouraged. She said it wasn't really walking, just a lot of moving with A LOT of help.

Our trips to the nursing home have been fewer lately. I've been going every other day as opposed to every day. During my last visit, I watched them move him from the bed to the wheelchair; he looked so feeble. His right arm frozen to his chest with two fingers sticking out. He is also getting a gaze about him. When I sit down he will stare a hole in me. That's part of the disease too.

Daddy's speech has grown far worse in the past two weeks. He cannot get words to come to his mouth. It's so frustrating to see him wanting to say something, stuttering and searching, and then finally to give up and say, "I dont' know." That's his way of saying, "It's not worth it."

Dad's quote, "I don't know" is how we all feel. I don't know why he's not walking more. I don't know why he's not trying harder. I don't know if he can help it or not. I don't know if he'll come home. I don't know why he sleeps so much. I don't know how much longer we'll have him with us. I don't know. I just don't know.

Reality

Dad had a bad Saturday a couple of weeks ago. When I arrived that Saturday afternoon, he was trying desperately to communicate to us that the staff had left him in bed all day. He was NOT happy! I decided to "drop in" on Sunday morning since I usually go to church. Just wanted to keep the nursing home on their toes, never knowing what to expect. I walked down the hall to check Daddy's room and his bed was made but he wasn't there. I figured he was in the dining hall and went to check on him there. When I turned the corner, I saw my dad, among many other residents, trying to feed himself with an adult bib on. It took my breath away. I had to stop and take a moment to think about what I was watching. What had brought us to this point? Why was my Daddy in a circle of people who were in such bad shape? How had all of this become so bad? What was he thinking? Even now as I type this I can see so clearly what I saw that morning. It was heartbreaking! The worst part was that many of those other residents were better off than my Daddy. I walked over to help him finish his meal and as soon as I could, rolled him back to his room. As I left that day, I cried all the way home. I cried off and on that entire day. I had seen him much worse than this when he was hospitalized but this particular day CBGD became a Reality.