Mr. cookiecat has been in and out of reality for the past several days. Some of it is drug related; he's heavily medicated so he can breathe easier as well as keeping his anxiety abated.
Some of it is - according to doctors - related to transitioning. What a pleasant word to define this last stage of life. He's transitioning. As if he's deciding to change political parties or become a woman. He's fucking dying.
The things he's saying are mostly sweet. Memories from childhood. His family. I woke up to him talking. I asked him if he was ok. He said I needed to come talk with my niece. They were discussing a Christmas gift for my other niece, who wants to be an astronaut. He said he wanted to get her a telescope so she could see the stars.
He wakes up and his lips are pursed really tight. He thinks he's smoking and has a burning cigarette in his mouth. Since his hands don't work, he can't take it out himself. At first I said no - no, there's no cigarette. Now, I just act like I'm taking it out of his mouth and he seems pleased he had a good smoke.
Tonight, I was sitting next to him (he's in bed, I sit next to the bed). He started crying, like openly bawling. I asked him what was wrong. He said he was sad he couldn't be Tarzan for Halloween.
I haven't changed my clothes in three days. I just realized I forgot to brush my teeth this morning. It's like every moment is spent sitting here, holding his hand. Rubbing his feet. Shoving pillows every which way hoping his pressure sores don't hurt.
This really really sucks.
Glitter. I think I need some glitter.
I only wish there was something I could do for You and Mr Cookie.. All I can do is send you my love and prayers..
Mr. cookie update:
Checked him in to the VA - in their hospice center. The doctor thinks Mr. cookie has dementia and ISN'T dying. Well. You know. He IS dying but not in a few days.
Fucking rollercoaster. Days to live one day, now dementia.
He's in the hospital to figure out why he's hallucinating. That's another rollercoaster ride. He's seeing men in gas masks doing training maneuvers. Having conversations with people who aren't there. He's getting paranoid. It was almost comical if it weren't so heartbreaking... at one point he was slipping me notes to smuggle out of the hospital (he can't move his hands at all) to get to our contact at the HIGHEST LEVEL who would help us. At one point, he thought he was stuck to the ceiling. "I'm a quad" he kept saying "how can I hold on?'
I left him alone tonight. My heart feels guilty but the tiredness won out. We'll find out more tomorrow.
Thanks to all of you for reaching out. The support feels good.
Based on the content of these hallucinations I think it's safe to presume that Mr. Cookie was secretly a Seal-Team-6 operative earlier in life.Mr. cookie update:
Checked him in to the VA - in their hospice center. The doctor thinks Mr. cookie has dementia and ISN'T dying. Well. You know. He IS dying but not in a few days.
Fucking rollercoaster. Days to live one day, now dementia.
He's in the hospital to figure out why he's hallucinating. That's another rollercoaster ride. He's seeing men in gas masks doing training maneuvers. Having conversations with people who aren't there. He's getting paranoid. It was almost comical if it weren't so heartbreaking... at one point he was slipping me notes to smuggle out of the hospital (he can't move his hands at all) to get to our contact at the HIGHEST LEVEL who would help us. At one point, he thought he was stuck to the ceiling. "I'm a quad" he kept saying "how can I hold on?'
I left him alone tonight. My heart feels guilty but the tiredness won out. We'll find out more tomorrow.
Thanks to all of you for reaching out. The support feels good.
(((The Cookies)))
Mr. cookie update:
Checked him in to the VA - in their hospice center. The doctor thinks Mr. cookie has dementia and ISN'T dying. Well. You know. He IS dying but not in a few days.
Fucking rollercoaster. Days to live one day, now dementia.
He's in the hospital to figure out why he's hallucinating. That's another rollercoaster ride. He's seeing men in gas masks doing training maneuvers. Having conversations with people who aren't there. He's getting paranoid. It was almost comical if it weren't so heartbreaking... at one point he was slipping me notes to smuggle out of the hospital (he can't move his hands at all) to get to our contact at the HIGHEST LEVEL who would help us. At one point, he thought he was stuck to the ceiling. "I'm a quad" he kept saying "how can I hold on?'
I left him alone tonight. My heart feels guilty but the tiredness won out. We'll find out more tomorrow.
Thanks to all of you for reaching out. The support feels good.
Tonight Ed thought I had a knife and was going to kill him. He told me he loved me but thought it would be best if I left because he can't trust me. You can tell me a million times it's the disease and not him but my heart still hurts. So I'm home. ALS is a wicked, wicked disease.
edited: I can't say it enough but thanks for the support. It helps.
Tonight Ed thought I had a knife and was going to kill him. He told me he loved me but thought it would be best if I left because he can't trust me. You can tell me a million times it's the disease and not him but my heart still hurts. So I'm home. ALS is a wicked, wicked disease.
edited: I can't say it enough but thanks for the support. It helps.
Tonight Ed thought I had a knife and was going to kill him. He told me he loved me but thought it would be best if I left because he can't trust me. You can tell me a million times it's the disease and not him but my heart still hurts. So I'm home. ALS is a wicked, wicked disease.
edited: I can't say it enough but thanks for the support. It helps.
