Tom must be doing a lot better. He's not only really complaining about the food, but he refused to order dinner. When I asked what he had instead, he said, "Coffee." I read him the riot act; told him I didn't need THAT to worry about, too, and to find a nurse and get something to eat. (Sigh. He said he hoped for cake... I suggested something with nutrition in it. Arghhhh!!!!)

That after an afternoon of clearing out the paper clutter on his side of the table. Mixed feeling while doing that ranging from being angry at the crap that he accumulates because he won't throw out envelopes, flyers, envelope inserts, geez, anything. I threw out a 2010 phone book for pete's sake. Waaay outdated meds containers, EMPTY meds containers, and a gazillion crumpled Kleenex and napkins. (I thought I was keeping up on those...) Then there's the other end of that range of emotions -- satisfaction and pleasure at having his side of the table organized. It's frustrating. The only time he "lets" me do this is when he's in the hospital and can't tell me not to.

And I organized a magenta binder with all the phone numbers he needs in large bold type. AND his physical therapy exercise guide pages.

I love him but he can be very exasperating at times.

Linn