An inauspicious beginning
One of the things I find most difficult about this life is the feeling of ever shifting sand beneath my feet. For the past two weeks at least, every morning has begun with Ash writing in his notebook the time he woke up and then, when I've taken his tea in, I've sat on the bed while we've gone through what happens next ie cup of tea at ......., 2nd cup of tea at ......., get up at ....... This has worked really well every single morning right up until this one. I took his tea in as usual, sat down on the bed and watched while he picked up and opened his notebook. He'd written down the time he'd woken up and then as usual he wrote down the current time followed by 'tea' and 'tablets'. That's the point where he asks me what happens next so I automatically said 'and then a 2nd cup of tea at 6.45'. His usual response is a smile and the adding of the information to his notebook followed by 'then what?'. This morning I was greeted with a scowl and Ash snapping 'don't rush me' and my heart sank at the thought of what the rest of the day held.
However, if one of the things I find most difficult is never knowing where I stand, one of the things I like about this dementia driven life is that nothing stays the same. The day may have begun badly but by lunchtime Ash was picking up the paint brush and heading outside to find the fence paint. He began the painting last week and the only problem I have is in persuading him that there are some things better left as they are. He's already talking about painting my beautifully rustic garden bench and, happy as I am to see him occupied and engaged, I really would prefer the bench to stay as it is. Watch this space to see how good my management skills are in that direction.