Exit Code

Don left a handwritten note for me today that was carefully anchored under his Smart TV. Apparently, he didn’t want it to get away.

The note is referring to doors and gates in our 3-story house that are locked at night when everyone should be sleeping. Key word there is everyone. Don has never relearned to sleep at night and stay awake in the daytime. As we near the 2-year mark since the stroke, I fear reversing any of his bad habits will not happen. I received regular phone calls from Asher at the skilled nursing facility voicing frustration over Don waking at 3-4:00 a.m. and wanting coffee and breakfast. Why did Asher call me? When Don did not get immediate service in the wee hours of the morning, he got impatient and would fall out of bed, attempting to get up on his own and head unaided to the cafeteria. I am not the only one, nor the first, who has/had troubles with Don not following the rules and warnings for his own well-being and safety. Every time a patient falls, and someone else has to pick the fallen smart guy up off the floor, the facility must call the caretaker and a doctor for an examination. He fell at least once every week. They had a full staff to deal with it. I don’t.

It has become clear that neither one of us is going to escape this daily holding pattern anytime soon. One of us must die before anything will change. He’s not the only one who needs an exit code. One of us needs a Code Blue. Stat!

Note to Self: Let’s write a song called The Caretaker Blues.