In my last report on Charlie’s journey with his latest health crisis, he had moved to his daughter’s home five hours from me. It seemed to be going well, but then things suddenly took a turn. His daughter found that full-time caregiving in a home setting on top of responsibilities for children, a husband and a home to manage was more than she could handle. At her wits’ end, they arrived on my doorstep in the middle of the night three weeks ago.

Charlie was ecstatic to be home, while I welcomed him with trepidation. At the end of his hospital stay, I was prepared to place him in nursing home. To have him suddenly returned home, with all VA help discontinued, was upsetting to say the least.

The first thing I did was reapply to the VA to have the Home Based Care Plan and Veterans In Place program re-established. This involved a lot of paperwork, and I am still waiting for the services to begin. In the mean time, we are muddling through, but doing surprisingly well.

His condition has improved considerably since he was discharged from the hospital. In fact, physically, he is almost back to where he was before a bacterial infection and rheumatoid arthritis laid him flat. However, his mental acuity has suffered. A VA provider gave him a mental test this week in which he scored one-half what he scored six months ago.

Today he cleaned his glasses with Whiteout, the product meant to cover errors on paper. In case you were wondering, no—it is not water-soluble. I laughed hysterically as I scraped it off his glasses with my fingernail.

His incontinence has also worsened since his hospitalization. The doctors are not sure what to blame for that; it may just be a result of his worsening dementia. So far, he is able to use a urinal at night, so I can sleep through the night without getting up 5-6 times to help him to the bathroom. The downside was the night he spilled his urinal on the newly cleaned carpet. There was a throw rug in place to catch such spills, but, as luck would have it, it overshot the rug. I’m afraid I lost my cool over that one.

Charlie’s love affair with wine seems to be history, though. After six weeks of hospital sobriety, I decided to try playing the fool’s game. Whenever he asks for a glass of wine, I pour him a “cocktail” of red or white sparkling grape juice, fruit flavored water and ginger ale. He has never questioned what kind of “wine” he was drinking or noticed that he did not get the expected rush from the drink.

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After nine weeks of “freedom” while Charlie was in the hospital and with his daughter, I have found the confinement resulting from caring for someone with mental and physical ailments to be stifling and exhausting. Once I have some helpers in place, the job will not be so daunting.

I can’t imagine what many of my readers are going through with little or no help available to give them a break from the stress and loneliness of caregiving. It only took Charlie’s daughter three weeks to realize she couldn’t do it, but she had a solution to her dilemma that many of you do not have access to. God bless you all.