The year was 1947. Margaret Ruth, a young lady studying for a Master's Degree in Public Health at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, had just received a visit from a young man who had graduated the year past. He took the train up from his boarding home in Florida (a boarding house? He had his masters, a good job, and lived in a boarding house with a telephone and bathroom at the end of the hall) to present this lovely young lady with The Ring and photograph her walking in the Rose Gardens at the University. She's dreaming of degrees and rings and weddings and babies and living happily ever after. Today I, Margaret Lorraine, look at the picture while my daughter Madeleine Margaret drifts off to sleep dreaming of degrees and rings and playdates and fun and happiness.
Life goes on around here, as we get used to the new normal. As we talk nursing homes and conservatorships and deal with the worries, anger, paranoia and confusion of Alzheimer's.
Nothing much new. TWO doctors have now forbidden her to drive and we did confiscate the car. Every day we get a phone call demanding her car back and insisting that the doctors cleared her to drive. I say "I won't argue, I love you, see you later, bye," and gently click the receiver. Her neurologist prescribed Aricept. I hope it works, I'll take anything I can.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch....
I think I've recovered from The Achy Flu-Like Thing after a month. A MONTH! I went to Walmart Saturday night. THE EXCITEMENT, IT NEVER ENDS. It was the first time that I had ventured out of the house for anything except work and doctor's visits in a month.
Well, that is about all. Have a good week.
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