Thursday, September 2, 2010

Tell me no lies

It's always hard to write these posts. The ones not about ordinary life, or the attempt at. No, nor is this a "oh Lords of Kobol he's dying!" one either.

It's one about the smallest, simplest things.

Last night Wash wanted to make himself some kind of late night snack. I thought the microwave was involved. It was instead the toaster-oven.
He was downstairs, so I - I- made the assumption he was watching the kitchen or his food.

About 10 ish mins later I'm getting a bit thirsty and as I stand up and walk towards the stairs leading down I smell it- SMOKE.

At the stairs, I can see a cloudy haze and I start shouting his name. (smoke detector did not activate)

He was sitting on the downstairs couch, 12 feet away from a smoke filled kitchen watching TV.
Didn't notice the smoke.
Didn't notice the smell.
Didn't notice anything but the TV.

Our kitchen is fine- not sure about the TO.

However, my security again has been lost. Now I cannot even feel comfortable leaving him alone for a min. I can't help but think- what if it had been worse. How far would an actual kitchen fire have to spread before he would notice and think to call/get help?
Has he regressed again? Do I need to not let him ever try and multi task again? Do I have to now say he can't use a toaster without an adult around?

His parents see him so little, they are just too far away. And honestly, I think he lies- or understates what it is like when he talks to them. His close friends, the ones who see us every few days, or once a week are more aware at how his brain now has to work, at the level he functions at. To them, he is -partially- an adult. Oh, he is still "their child", but they more or less see him as "capable" still.
Nothing earth shattering about that, it is just the truth. It just is. No more denial, no bargaining, no anger. Just acceptance of the situation.

I am so so so so sick of people that are not around him 24 hours a day trying to decide where he functions at. He has good, sometimes great days. And he has days where he will wash and hang dry my flip-flops with the clothes, or burn something down. This is what *I* live with. Not anyone else.

It just hurts me because sometimes I don't know if he is my husband or a child.

I watched my grandfather succumb to Alzheimer's and my grandmother to cancer and senility. I know how this story will end.
I just didn't expect this for another 50 years.

1 comment:

  1. Please know that there are people out here who are listening. Your truth is our truth, regardless of whether others aren't ready to accept it.