I just walked away, and started watching my latest TV passion - Weeds. I stream it from Netflix onto our Wii, and I watch about 2 episodes an evening. Dennis eventually asked to come and sit by me in the living area and watched an episode with me.
Then he asked to go to bed. It was only 5:30 pm. I didn't argue and put him into bed in a propped up position so he could watch football and hockey and America's Next Top Model (sports and models, his two passions). A while later I returned to give him his meds, and even later to start his nightly feeding. It wasn't that we didn't talk, it's was just that I could tell he was in a funk. I knew he would tell me when he was ready.
It wasn't until this morning, when he woke me with a gurgling throat and I needed to prop him up, one more time. Then he told me that he told me he hated me because I was normal. I could eat by myself, put myself to bed, sit up in bed when I wanted and roll over in the night when I needed.
This is a picture of Dennis propped up in the morning - every pillow type thing we own just to sit him more or less upright so he could swallow everything that gathers in our throats over night. Most of us can simply cough out a bit of phlegm , but it isn't as easy for Dennis. Of course he hates my normalcy. He wants to be normal.
Pardon the language, but shit - this just won't happen.
We do still have a life that others would dream of having. But it's not normal, not for either one of us. And it never will be again. But it is our normal, and others may be jealous of what we have. Right now, it's Dennis being jealous of me.
And there it is - life.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
