It's okay, really

 

This was a week of appointments and craziness.

Rich was tested in Pulmonary Therapy with regards to the six minute walk. He actually did pretty well. His gait was very slow and he did have to rest for a full minute after 4 minutes of walking. He was using O2. 
He agreed to coming to PT 3 times a week.

We traveled to Madison to see a Urology specialist who did some testing [I'll spare you the details]. Only to find out that what Rich was experiencing was pretty normal for someone of his age and his medical concerns.

I should have understood that this was a warning of sorts. We headed home and he was furious. He was sure that the doctor would 'fix' the problem instead of telling him that he needed more exercise and more walking. His legs are pumps, if the pumps don't get used the fluid builds up and at night and that causes more problems. [Okay, it is more complicated than that. But let's leave it at that.]

The next day was a phone consult with his Mental Health provider. Those phone visits every two months for the past two years are harbingers of Foul Moods and Anger. Rich generally says very little. The provider asks him how things are going and Rich answers his same answer each time. 

The Same. Nothing Changes. 

The more the MH provider tries to talk with him the worse he gets. 

You aren't making anything better. Nothing Changes. 
I want to be better.

I know that the MH provider does not have a magic wand and he does not have the ability to find a magical pill. 

Finally the provider informed him that he was leaving the VA. This created an outburst of anger that was a bit more intense. 

Generally the provider asks if I am there and we go to speaker phone. But with the foul mood Rich was in it didn't happen.

The provider did try and explain things and I could see that none of it was connecting. Rich argued that he did NOT want to come to Madison to see who he was supposed to see next.

When Rich hung up he was very angry. 

He wants me to see something about Aging and something. Old people something?

We are aging, I told him. The referral would actually make sense. He has reached a point in his illness[s] that his medical conditions will not get better. He knew that but knowing it is different than acknowledging it. 

I asked again who was he getting referred to?

I don't know. Something about Old People. 

I tried to tell him that this made sense as he was considered aged and someone who worked with older veterans might be able to help him.

This explanation hit a brick wall of Fury. 

I did what I can only do. I got up and left the house to work in the garden. No sense in fighting a wall.

Eventually he came out. I'd washed the mower deck on the Clipper and he had to flip the deck back up. I tried to help him, but as usual the deck wasn't cooperating because we don't have a good level spot to park it.

He got angry again and decided to heck with it all and he'd drive the Clipper around until the deck behaved.

When I motioned for him stop he started to yell at me. I explained that dragging the deck was not going to make it suddenly behave. He revved the engine and backed up digging up gravel from the driveway.

That was it. I threw up my hands and walked away. He tried to holler at me to 'get back here.' I waved goodbye and kept walking. 

Somedays there is no sense in arguing or being calm, cool, and collected. All of that was out the window by this time. 

I was close enough to see if he got into medical trouble, but far enough away to be removed from the situation.

However.

This must have been an improvement in daily activity as he had gone outside to put the mower back together. Granted, it took 3 days to get the job done in small bits. 

But....

By supper time everything must have been hunky dory. [Is that even a word?] He was back to being a pleasant person.

I know I need someone to come and give me a break. That is evident. However.

Our county suffers like many other places in the lack of available people.