I'm still alive, but stressed to the limit trying to do everything--work, meds, housework, groceries, laundry, take him to his appointments, take me to my appointments, on and on. I've taken to carrying a calendar around with me and stapling business cards to it, trying to keep track of everything.

I must say that dragging a wheelchair in and out of the back of the car and walking from parking lots to wheelchair ramps and back is giving me lots of exercise. There should be an Olympic game for Wheelchair Lifting.

Yesterday I took him to the VA and parked the wheelchair and locked the wheels, standard procedures. Then I walked (limped) to the parking lot, got the car, drove to the wheelchair ramp. Parked the car, opened the car door, and as I was rounding the bumper to get to the chair, he took off the brakes, the wheelchair careened off the sidewalk, off the curb and fell over. I fell, too, trying to catch the chair and him before they fell.

I was so frightened for his well-being and so angry that he didn't have the patience to wait 10 seconds until I could grip the handles and he didn't have the commonsense to see that he was on an inclined plane. Dammit, it's like having a child again. He resents being talked down to and being told the obvious, but I can't trust him to remember things or show good judgment.

And remember my arthritic knee and ankle? Well, they didn't like that treatment much and they are letting me know it. The worst thing about pain is that it hurts.

I'm just venting. Everything will be as it will be. Thanks for letting me just let off steam. Back to our previously programmed channels....