JOAN’S BLOG – THURSDAY, JANUARY 17, 2008 – MY HUSBAND, STILL MY HERO

Last September, I wrote a Blog entitled Who Will Kill the Bugs?( Click here for complete text of blog). In it, I talked about all of the chores around the house that my husband does for me, and how much I would miss his assistance when he is no longer able to provide it – taking out the garbage, cleaning the gas grill, folding the clothes, killing those big ugly bugs, and in our case here in Florida, catching and throwing back outside,  those repulsive frogs that find their way into the house.

Well, it is January, and those frogs, which have the flying (hopping) ability of Superman, are STILL here. The “cold” weather of nighttime 50’s and 60’s has not discouraged them. Two nights ago, one managed to squeeze his way around the screen door, boldly perching himself on the smooth stovetop as if he belonged there, which is where I found him when I walked into the kitchen. I quickly backed up into the den, and squeaked to Sid, “Frog! Frog in the kitchen! You have to get the frog!”

Alzheimer’s Disease may have slowed his thinking capacity, and diabetic neuropathy may have slowed his physical capacity. But not to fear. My brave husband creaked his way out of his chair, hobbled to the kitchen, and reached for the frog. Whoops! The frog was faster. He flew (hopped?) away. Not to be seen again for two days. You can use your imagination to fill in the blanks about what is was like to live with me for those two days, looking around every corner and checking every shoe before I slipped my foot into it.

Yesterday morning, while we were both in the bedroom, Sid opened his closet door, and said, “Here’s your friend.” I did what I always do in these pressure packed situations. I panicked, screamed, and ran into the living room. My hero grabbed the frog, held it in his hand (yuck!), opened the front door, and threw it outside.

After I sat through the lecture   about me being 100 times bigger than the frog; that he wouldn’t hurt me; and that I was a wimp, we had a serious conversation about the situation. I said that he may no longer be able to hook up a VCR, process lengthy telephone messages, or help with any household organization, but he could still save me from creatures large and small, and for that I was extremely grateful. He said that he was very sadabout the things he could no longer do, but he was thankful and pleased that there was something he could still do for me, because didn’t I know that he loved me so much he would do anything for me?  Yes, I do know it, and that knowledge keeps me going on some of the worst days.

With all that I do for him, I cannot do the one most important job– take this disease away from him. We have to be content with what we can do for each other – I am his memory, and he is my hero who slays the dragons ( or catches the frogs) for me.

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