During yesterday's visit I laid out the situation as clearly as I know how: it's not safe for him to be home alone, he must be in care facility for 24/7 care until VA comes through with funding for in-home care (or, failing that, Medicare).

I think he's regretting some of his narcissistic Drama Queen actions of the recent past, but too late now. He panicked, events unfolded, and here we are. I never knew until recently how frightened and anxious he was. Can't blame him.

He keeps proposing unreasonable, impracticable ideas, such as using the high-sided wood waterbed frame with an air mattress. The waterbed frame hits me mid-hip. How is he going to get in and out of bed? He can barely negotiate a normal height bed. Plus the waterbed frame won't raise the head and/or the feet.

He still, after all these events, has not truly seen the elephant in the room. Being handicapped was fun when he was the center of attention for all the doctors, the nurses, and me. When he was getting hi-tech ECT. It's not so much fun any more when it's a long, uncomfortable slog through rehab, being just another patient. He feels he's entitled to special consideration and feels slighted when he's not special or different.

He said he felt rejected that he will have to go to a care facility. I told him it was not rejection, but safety. He cannot be left alone for hours on end (the 12 hours I'm gone during the day); at night I need to sleep 8 hours. Until we get in-home care, he cannot come home. Period. The doctor is backing me in this, for which I am very grateful.

Life is good. Don't weaken.


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