It’s Groundhog Day Again! (My journey through my husband’s strokes)

My beloved spends most of his days moving between 3 spaces in our home with his caregiver in tow. There typically isn’t too much conversation, he only uses his language when he is intrinsically motivated. I chose our home because of the amenities it offered for him. Everything is conveniently located on the first floor. The upstairs office, half bath, and guest room get limited use, most of the caregivers are unaware there is a second floor.

Our former home was twice the size and the bedrooms were upstairs. We’d lived there for 15 years. That’s where the neurological damage and strokes started. We’ve been here five years and it’s Groundhog Day every evening. Larry’s memory is stuck in early 2008. Although he has had lots of new experiences, if he is not able to make an intrinsic connection, he doesn’t remember. Larry remembers our granddaughter and lights up at every FaceTime visit. But he can’t remember that our bedroom is on the first floor. Every evening he ignores his physical discomfort and climbs the stairs. Until recently, I would follow him up and turn on the television. He refuses to sit, instead, he stands in the center of the floor and asks for the television to be turned on. He can’t remember why he is up there and nothing is familiar. Within 5 minutes he is teetering at the top of the stairs on his way down. He does this 3, 4, sometimes 5 times consecutively most evenings. Now, I don’t go up but wait patiently at the bottom of the stairs. My heart beats rapidly as I instruct him to find the railing; if I help him, he gets more unbalanced, so I can only assist him verbally. One of my worst fears is watching him tumble down as I helplessly wait for the aftermath. It’s Groundhog Day again. This evening and most are the same.

My heart aches for the constant replay that won’t allow him to enjoy not climbing the stairs every evening for bed. My heart aches for his confusion and likely frustration at having climbed the stairs and not understand why he is there. My heart aches as his life flashes before My eyes as he teters at the top of the stairs with a blank stair, not focused on anything. I gasp as he takes the first step, nearly missing and the miracle of his grabbing the railing right before a spill. What’s the lesson? Is it for me or for him? How would he comprehend the lesson? Is he the child that has to experience the consequence in order to understand the danger? The consequences would be mine and I am desperately trying to learn, not by example.

It’s Groundhog Day again!