Clocked out before 5:00

I should be working right now but I’m clocked out.  Literally and figuratively.

The last 16 hours have been a whirlwind of emotion.  Last night, seemingly out of the blue, Gary told me what a difficult time he is having emotionally and, well it shocked me.  Isn’t that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard?  Of course, he is.  How could he not?  And yet, the whole conversation surprised me.
He talks a lot about death and his many emotions surrounding that – I think I’m used to that conversation.  He talks a whole lot about the festering frustrations surrounding his inability to do anything – I know I’m used to that conversation.  And, of course, his worsening dementia means he talks to and about all kinds of things that are all manner of crazy and I’m as used to those conversations as I can be.  And yet, for all of the difficult and strange conversations we’ve had, last night is the one that’s been haunting me.

 
Basically, it boiled down to this: he’s sad and he’s lonely.  And I took that as a searing indictment of my skills as a wife and caretaker and, well, a decent human being.  And what the hell?  I’m sad and lonely, too.  At least he has his hallucinations to talk to.  But it really struck me so I’ve been thinking.
 
I guess I’ve been so busy trying to take care of his body, I’m neglecting his emotions.  But as long as I’m cooking or administering meds or doing laundry or bathing him or changing pull-ups, I feel like I’m taking care of him.  But that’s obviously not enough.  But cooking and administering meds and doing laundry and bathing him and changing pull-ups is exhausting.  But not as exhausting as trying to deal with his emotions which oscillate between frustration and grief and anger.  And it’s fruitless, too.  At least when I’m done cleaning the bedpan, the bedpan is clean.  When I’m done listening to his frustration and anger…. well, he’s still frustrated and angry and the time I spent listening to it could have been spent cleaning the bed pan.
 
Also, he spends a lot of time talking to his hallucinations – dead relatives, wall lobsters, the Bolivian ambassador hiding in my closet.  It’s embarrassing to admit if but I didn’t realize he was lonely because I guess I thought his hallucinations were keeping him company.
 
Nevertheless, for whatever reason, last night’s conversation really struck me and I realized I need to do a better job of being there for him.  Not just as a caregiver but as a wife.  And if that means the laundry doesn’t get folded or the dishes don’t make it into the dishwasher so be it.  I agonized over every thing he said (none of which was really directed at me) and awoke with a newfound dedication to being more present for him, to being more emotionally supportive, to doing whatever I can to make him more comfortable physically and emotionally.  It’s never too late to start and today is a new day and I’ll do better from now on.
 
Well, that was the plan.
 
Until around 2:00, when he called me upstairs to discuss where he wants to put a saltlick for deer.  I could have engaged him.  I could have been thankful he’s focusing on something other than his misery.  I could have been grateful he’s trying to do something productive.  I could have but I didn’t.
 
Instead, I said, “Is there any way this could possibly wait until I’m finished with work or does this absolutely, positively have to be decided before 5:00 PM?”  He agreed it could wait and I settled back in front of my laptop and tried to get back to work.  But I couldn’t concentrate because what the hell was I thinking?  Was that necessary?  Couldn’t I take 10 minutes out of my day to discuss deer and then maybe, oh I don’t know, just work 10 minutes longer to make up for it?  I mean, yes – of course I could.  But I didn’t.
 
So, my newfound commitment to be less selfish and more attentive and focus on things that really matter lasted approximately 6 hours.  My personal best.  And I’ve probably never been more disappointed in myself (I mean maybe I have; I could give it some thought because I kinda suck a lot these days) but right now, it seems like such a failure on such a massive level that I couldn’t focus on work. 
 
So, I clocked out.
 
So now I’m not working anyway.
 
So, I might as well have just finished the conversation about the deer.    But I didn’t.
 
Right now, I’m trying to steady my emotions so I can go finish the conversation about the deer.
 
And hope that he didn’t already make that decision with the imaginary Bolivian ambassador.