If the rest of our life turns out to be like this fall's weather, I would be more than okay with that.
In September Ross was diagnosed with Alzheimers. Ross is still going through diagnostic testing which he should finish up this week. Perhaps we will soon have more definitive answers.
I made a decision, with Ross' approval, to write, in serial format, about our journey. It will not be a daily journal, but more like on a need to write basis.
This post is the third in the series.
Today I need to write about frustration.
A little background information might help explain. Ross is highly intelligent. Just like his life, Ross' educational background was widely varied. He proudly attended the Naval Academy.
After his second term, he realized the disciplined and structured demand of the military was not the life he wanted to live.
He went on to graduate from the University of Toledo in Ohio with a master's degree in math and computer science degree.
He found his calling in teaching high school students. He had a special relationship with his students, who often confided in him, knowing he would be understanding and supportive, no matter what.
Ross and I have similar even tempered dispositions. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that we both are the eldest of our siblings. We had to learn early in our life to adapt, listen, and make room in our life for others.
I believe because of our mild manners, we mostly continue to live an even keeled and calm life.
Of course we are facing something now that might probably be the most challenging of our lives.
Although our frustrations come from different challenges, and may happen on a daily basis, we seem to be able to work through our feelings by communicating in a calm and reasonable way. Mostly.
Yesterday, we had an incident.
It began with a trip to one of the big box stores. The kind where you need to show a membership card to get through the door. Ross easily found his card, but could not find his credit card. Since I had mine, it wasn't going to be an issue.
We did our shopping and went on home. When we got home, Ross found his credit card in his way too small and crowded wallet. He then decided to sort and organize all of the items. He started to make piles of the different items. He put credit cards together, id cards together, insurance cards together, etc.
After that, he tried to count the various cards and items, over 20 I would imagine.
When he began to struggle with simply counting, his frustration began to build quite quickly. In an unusual emotional display of what I perceived as anger, he insisted that I stop what I was doing (which was making lunch for us) to help him.
After a long week of many appointments and sleepless nights, I reacted in a not so calm way.
After a cooling down period, as we usual do, we came together to talk about what happened.
He explained how hurtful it was to realize that after a thirty-plus successful career as a mathematician he was struggling with simply counting.
I tearfully expressed the frustration I felt trying to remain even tempered and patient all of the time.
Today on this dreary, misty Sunday, I understand that we both need extra help with all kinds of things. But at this point when IT is still new, I am freezing cold, in a state of shock immobility.
