There is absolutely no easy way of handling a partner with Alzheimer's.
There are no benefits. I have not turned into Maria Schneider.
I have not become a spiritual wise woman with blond hair who wears purple and brews chamolmile tea. I have become a spitting woman who eats Cheetos in her car outside Best Buy, just to hide for a moment to see real life. I walk toward CVS mumbling "shoot me, just shoot me."
Today was a classic episode into the oddity of this illness. I bump back and forth between knowing and feeling helpless. Its like being asked to perform with Cirque De Solei without a rehearsal nor safety net. Keep smiling they say while I imagine myself sticking a fork into my leg and simply exploding into nothing.
In Vegas I soaked in everything the place could offer. The sights, the sounds, the taste. I shopped, ate chocolate, rode the open top bus, and felt, let alone said, wow every five minutes. I loved it.
I went on a private tour of the Siegfried Secret Garden and met & cuddled a grandmother called Duchess who happened to be a real life dolphin. It was glorious.
If I could attach a photograph I would need to explain that I was the one on the right, as I was wearing grey that day. When I next meet a dolphin I will wear another color. I wonder if it had been a male dolphin that perhaps it may have jumped me? Headlines - Brit caught in love scandal with Whizzy the Vegas Dolphin.
The next day I lost my camera. I truly nearly cried. I love taking photographs and was already planning my Vegas Scrapbook. I am not one of those who watch the entire Pirate Show from their camera lens. I prefer more candid shots and artistic angles.
Vegas represented a huge reminder to me that laughter and wonder were easily found inside me. I wanted to keep the visual memories close. So I must, therefore, imagine that (as previously mentioned in Part One) George Clooney stole my camera. That helps me make sense of this bumbling life I now lead.