One of the nurses from Heritage rang yesterday.  Richard is down to 73kg (160lb).  Richard is 6'1".  Coincidentally the night before I lay awake worrying about his weight loss and difficulty in eating.  I buy him chocolate treats.  I ask if he wants one, but he won't open his mouth.  He doesn't understand. On a good day he'll pick up the treat himself but forgets to take it to his mouth.  On a bad day - nothing.  If I can get him to take it, pressing it gently against his closed lips while repeatedly asking him to open his mouth, getting him to take a second one is easier.  The nurse will talk to Richard's doctor and the dietitician but what's happening is...

He's dying.  He has LBD.  It's a natural progression.  Loss of the ability to do anything, loss of interest in food, weight loss.  Dying is natural.  But oh hell, this is tough and will get tougher.  Have already vetoed the use of a nasograstro tube to feed him.  Watching him starve as he dies - who wants to watch a loved one do that? 

 Visiting him mostly consists of me applying moo goo to his psoriasis, wiping gunk from his eyes if there is any, putting the drops in, then sitting quietly holding his hand while he sleeps.  Can't wheel him around the gardens anymore as the bath chair is too big and unwieldy.  Get him outside to the garden but that's all I can manage.  So we sit.  If he's awake I point things out to him, a butterfly, a bird, a flower but his eyes don't focus.  With the rain I've shown him the radar on the phone - which normally he'd be impressed with as the rain is so pervasive - but again, he doesn't look, just gazes in the middle distance.  Often I'm sure he doesn't know who I am.  Now it's getting to the point where I wonder sometimes if he's even aware I'm there. 

I dreamed of a house last night, a new 'used' house.  Under the floor boards were lovely glass teapots with porcelain handles, old blankets.  I had a bed in the house.  I was cleaning out the house, making it ready for me to move into.  Other people were there too.  There was a man.  He cradled my face in his hand.  I felt safe.  I felt cared for.  Then there was Richard in his bath chair.  I thought he was dead but I tickled his foot and it jerked.  Then I felt guilty.

And it's still raining.  Didn't go see him yesterday and won't go again today.  The Byangum Bridge is under water.  Have had over 7 inches in 2 days.  Seven inches on ground already saturated.  The water has no where to go.  Enormous floods down south.  Evacuations, property damage.  And then there are the animals.