Some Mornings

Some mornings he wakes up and nothing seems to work.

This morning he ran into problems with shaving. Shaver in hand, he called me into the bathroom trying to tell me something, but never was able to get to it. He pointed at the shaver, and then the mirror and said, "There is a little something."

That is as far as we got after his attempting to communicate several times. I waited patiently, guessed at a few things, and finally told him just to shave, which he did.

A little while later he called me again with the "light bulb" having gone on again, he struggled to tell me what he had realized, and failed again ... another dark communication. We have been up for 30 minutes.

He did OK beginning his shower, I was in the bedroom when I heard him shouting "Help! Help!" I came running to find that he was finished showering and had begun to turn the water off but only did so half way and was standing in the cold stream of water still coming out of the shower head.

I turned the water hot again so he could warm up and then we turned it off together. Actually he did so by himself without any help, just my standing there which made it a little more frustrating and confusing.

Next he struggled to put on his sweatshirt, arm through the head hole and out the sleeve. He kept mumbling, "No that's not right" and continued trying to figure out how to put it on. He sat down on the bed for a while seemingly trying to regroup. I held back and he finally did figure out how to put the shirt on.

We have been up for an hour.

While he was reading the newspaper, I set out the cutting board with his bread and honey and announced, "Your bead and honey are ready." He thanked me and came over to begin preparing his first of the morning food. I returned to the bedroom.

Some five or ten minutes later I went out to see how he was doing. He was standing by the toaster, looking back at the cutting board, and back and forth again and again.

He was unable to connect the toast needing to go into the toaster and the button needing to be pressed. We worked through the process together.

When the toaster was finished and his toast popped up, he asked, "Does that turn it off?"

I am grateful that he sought my help, that he was able to begin shaving and then to finish, that he was able to take a dump without my help, that he was able to shower for the most part, that he was finally able to figure out how to get dressed, that he kissed my head as he left the bedroom and said, "I love you," that he was able to read the newspaper, that he was able to eat his toast after putting on the honey, and that he was able to go back to his newspaper.

I am grateful that I was able to keep my patience, not jump in to help too quickly, that I didn't get emotionally involved, that I was able to move from one difficulty to the next without anger, and that he kissed me on the head and said, "I love you."

I am frightened that we are getting closer to my having to more closely supervise his shaving and showering, physically helping him get dressed, and not only making his breakfast but also toasting his first up before breakfast snack because when confused verbal instructions do not work.

We have been up for two hours.