My blood pressure is sky high. Nothing has gone as planned this week – NOTHING.

The neurologist refused to intervene (?? this person made the diagnosis and prescribes the medication!) and although the family doctor did actually “grow a pair” and gently and kindly intervene, our loved one had no memory of the interaction, just 30 minutes later.  And she is sad, and angry, and hurt, and so, so confused.  We promised to have her tested but they can’t do it for at least two weeks. We had no idea the cataclysm of anxiety that would result from this. My husband and I are wrecked…last night I threw a tantrum – I have never, to my knowledge, done this in my entire life – in the middle of everything because this is JUST TOO MUCH. DAMMIT. It’s TOO MUCH.

Today – deep, deep breath – we will try and pull it together. We are off to our daughter’s university for a football game. Afterward we will have a counseling session and then bring her home for Thanksgiving week.

Well, perhaps help does come in ways you don’t expect.  Our grief counselor turns out to be an experienced caregiver for those with dementia/Alzheimer’s, and she had a great deal of understanding for our situation, and good information to share.  Although I didn’t want us to dwell on something other than Mark/our shared yet individual grief/processing during the 90 minute session, we did spend a lot of time on this issue…because it does relate to us all, it does weigh heavily on our family and on our ability to carry forward.

OK, God.  OK. Thank you for that.