The Wheelchair

I don't usually drive out to see my husband in the late afternoon/early evening, but today I did that for some reason. He had just eaten dinner and was relaxing on one of the television area recliners with his eyes closed. He didn't respond at all when I said hello. I thought it was going to be one of "those" visits, the ones where he doesn't seem to care whether or not I'm there.

But not so.

He eventually reacted to my caresses and kisses, and we started a "walk" outside. A very slow walk. We only made it about thirty feet before he seemed to want to turn back. We wandered to the outdoor living room area (each residence has one), where he sat in one of the comfortable, wicker chairs and again closed his eyes. I asked him to stay there while I quickly went to get his iPod from his room. Normally, he would have gotten up and wandered off before I returned, but not this time.

He didn't resist the headphones and seemed to particularly enjoy the Rod Stewart cuts when they came up on "shuffle." He even had a "guitar face" on once or twice, which I found heartwarming and endearing. He hasn't been nearly as responsive to the music lately as he was a few months ago, though.

As it was time for the residents to get ready for bed, I gently tried several times to get him to stand up and walk back into the house. He allowed me to help him get to his feet, but he just stood there for a second or two before sitting right back down without taking a step. This behavior was quite unusual. In fact, I don't remember it happening before. Not repeatedly or in this manner.

I went inside and explained to the caregivers (there was a full crew on duty, which I didn't expect in the evening and was pleased to see) that I was unable to get my husband back into the house. They responded immediately. Usually when they help him to stand, he rigidly leans back. But instead he leaned forward from the waist as he stood and would have "taken a header" if they hadn't been holding him. And then he sat back down without taking a step. This process was repeated several times, and finally I offered to get the wheelchair that, although provided months ago, had just been taking up space in his room. Until today. Getting him into it was a bit of an undertaking, but he made no effort to resist the ride to his room. He surprised everyone by uttering an expletive as they unloaded him and tucked him in. I was happy to hear him say a word, actually, and thankful it was the "s" word and not the other one!

The medical technician is going to talk with the resident nurse tomorrow to discuss the incident, and probably hospice will be called. She explained that in combination with his apparent weight loss since last month (see my last post) and his bowel movements seeming to require increased intervention these past few weeks, today's event might be signaling progression to the next phase of the illness.

Or maybe he was just tired.