Hanging in There

I got a very kind comment today, which reminded me of my shortcomings. Reader Pam said:

Rundy,

Are you managing to hang in there, dude? I keep you in my prayerful thoughts. It’s been so long since you’ve posted anything that many of of worry about your well-being, as well as Grandpa’s. Those of us who share your path, providing care for a beloved elder, are concerned.

Thanks for asking, Pam. I am very sorry I haven’t been more consistent in updating this website. Plenty has happened, and I will try to make an effort over the coming weeks to post a little more (like, at least once a week, maybe). I can say briefly that I am holding up very well, and I appreciate your prayers. The silence has been because of my preoccupation with other things. Grandpa is not holding up so well, but we have not had any crises with him either so I guess that is as good as can be hoped. More details on that later.

Tomorrow is my grocery day. My sister comes over to watch the house while I am gone, and I head out to purchase the week’s groceries. It’s kind of funny, but I think almost nobody knows who I am shopping for. People seem to assume I am buying the nutrient drink for myself.

“You really into the fitness drinks? You drink them instead of a meal?”

I try to keep the “Are you nuts?” look off my face. “No, they’re for my Grandfather. He has Alzheimer’s and won’t eat very much anymore.”

“Oh.” That always kills the conversation. It’s awkward then, and usually they try to say something about what I’m doing is so wonderful, but you can tell they wish they hadn’t opened their mouth.

I don’t know what they think about the bags of adult diapers I buy. It is probably better if I don’t try to imagine what they might be thinking. (No, I don’t have a “problem” okay? My plumbing works fine . . .) And then there is the laxative. The latex gloves. The enema packages (though no more of them since the laxative started working). It’s not embarrassing because it isn’t really my problem, and I don’t care if they think it is. But as those items, and the baby wipes, baby oil, baby wash, and baby food all go down the check out line, and I can’t help imagining what they think I am, and responding in my mind, “Lady, you have no idea.”