Richard went into hospital today, the second time in 3 days.  It's possible, probable, he won't come home again.  It is too unsafe now.  When he 'goes away' with the LBD, I can't keep him safe.  He doesn't understand or follow directions, even when he is in serious danger of falling over.  He collapsed on Wednesday and fell against me.  He had a skin tear on his elbow but it could have been so much worse.  Another fall I tried to catch him and ended up pinned beneath him.

When he is 'good' he is quite good.  He had a good day Friday, walked, talked, made sense sometimes although often he says things and I have no idea what he means ('It's good to have 30 or 50 of them."  "Of what?"  "Sugar."  "Sugar?  Like sweet sugar?"  "No, SUGAR,' gesturing toward my midriff).  But when he forgets who I am, who he is, what he is...I'm helpless.  I can't leave him but I can't stay at his elbow all day either.  The senior paramedic this morning said I had to make a point of looking after number one.  I didn't tell him I'd already made the decision to place Richard in respite then permanent care.  But then on Friday, when he had only one small accident, I think, piece of cake.  I can do this!

Except I can't.  I know I can't.  On the bad days.  Four half showers, one full shower, endless laundry, stripping of the bed, knowing oh, knowing there comes a time when afternoon walks end, when the horses have to  cope with grass only, when arrangements have to be made about the groceries, when I become  a prisoner in a beautiful prison.

And am I a 'big' enough person not to resent him for being the cause?  I hope I never know.

So why is he in hospital? He complained about a pain in his groin a week? ago.  Nothing much, hurts a bit, not too bad.  Saturday morning, 12:30 he is whimpering and asking to be taken to hospital.  Call an ambulance as I don't feel I can get him to the car safely.  The emergency doc palpates and finds the sore spot on his pubic bone, right hand side.  Come back in the morning for xrays.  We get home about 4am, don't sleep, return to hospital for xrays.  Nothing.  Sent home with half a dozen codeine derivative pain relief tablets.  Yesterday afternoon, not too bad, he sleeps a lot, spends most of the day in the chair but doesn't complain, can walk to the loo, eats dinner.  Give him paracetamol before dinner.  12:30am crying in pain.  More tablets and again at 5:30.  Doctor rings at 9.  We have a pre-arranged appt.  Tell him the story.  He urges a return and admission to hospital for scans.  Surprised he was sent home in the first place (as were the paramedics).

The scans show nothing.  Soft tissue injury the hospital doctor suspects.  But if soft tissue why is it worsening rather than getting better over the past week?  But they will treat it symptomatically, try and get him back on his feet.  They had to give him morphine this morning to get him out of bed.

Tomorrow I will seek out the social worker and say I cannot have him home again.

And here it is, after 6pm and I can sit in the computer room and write this without  checking on him, without worrying I'm offending him by not keeping him company.  And then when I climb into bed tonight...to sleep alone.   I grieve and I exult.  There is loss and there is  freedom.   Massive guilt and bubbling joy.