"I don't have any fight left in me," Dennis said to me last night before he went to bed.
He hadn't been able to eat dinner again on account of the drooling. He was beyond tired and frustrated with everything. I can't blame him, not one bit.
He went to see his general practitioner and had his meds changed, once again. His blood pressure has been too high, again, and he dropped one dose of his midodrine, the medication to raise his blood pressure. The doctor also upped his intake of Rubinol, the drooling drug, but that lowers his blood pressure, so that needs to be closely watched once again. The Rubinol has not decreased his drooling, as of yet, meaning this whole thing may be a moot point.
Does the above paragraph sound like it's going around in circles? Well, that is sort of what his life is like at this moment. I believe we would both like a straight life path for some time, even if it's only for a week, it would be a relief.
I am sure that you are wondering what my response to Dennis was after his proclamation that he just couldn't fight anymore. To be honest, first I played the tough lady routine and said "You damn well better fight," or something to that effect, but that type of talk doesn't work with Dennis. So I simply hugged him, kissed him and let him know that I needed him to fight, and could he please just do it for me.
And that type of talk always works with Dennis, bless his big old heart.
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