Last night he was okay with going to the nursing home, so I can have this break (to get his apartment cleaned and straightened up.) There wasn't any argument over that. I thought it was going to be a good evening. I'ld brought in a rotisserie chicken, which he enjoyed. I tucked him in bed as comfortable as I could arrange, after showering him and changing dressings on him.

We were getting along well. I was telling him how I would try to get a better hospital bed ordered and delivered, during the respite period. I praised him for cooperating with the care I was doing and told him he was doing well, considering he had two sore skin problems. (Reaction to his treatment.)

When I thought I had him settled, I went to phone my sister. As usual, soon as I went into a different room, he was loudly calling me. Do this, do that. I told him I was going outside to sit in the car to make my phone call, so I could have a phone chat in peace. I returned 45 mins later. He was acting nicer. I told him my sister sent him a kiss, which I gave him.

This was midnight, but he suddenly wanted to get up and for me to fix him something to eat. I was okay with that and looked for what I could get for him. Then somehow we started fussing with each other. Next I put him to bed again. Every time he moves, I'm physically lifting him. Then at 2 a.m. he wanted to get up again. I couldn't talk him out of that, so I helped him up and to his chair. Earlier I had cried thinking I'ld be sad not having him at home for 2 weeks. Suddenly, @ 2:30 a.m. I started looking forward to his going away to the facility.

During all this fussing around after midnight, I told him this was getting to be too much for me and, also, that we just can't seem to be at peace with each other. He said the problem is me. Finally, we both were asleep.

Right now we are at an xray place where he is getting scanned. My heart feels cold toward him. After this, I take him to the VA to have blood drawn. Then a nurse is coming to see us to bring dressing supplies for the sores he has developed. Then I have to start cleaning and cooking.

Right now my heart is cool toward him. That usually blows over. But I am glad we'll have some time and space away from each other. (Though I'll probably be at the nursing home everyday, bringing him stuff and picking up his laundry.) Right now I feel like I can't go back to even just a few more months of what I've been doing.

Soon my heart will soften. If I get the apartment cleaned up nice, while he's gone, I will feel organized and less stressed. But we don't get along. There is all this turmoil. It's not going to change. Our arguments have gotten a bitterness to them. I've gotten resentful. He never can put himself in my shoes. It's going to get harder, as he gets sicker. Last night, before dinner, he said, "I appreciate you being here." That pleased me so much and warmed my heart. Yet, still, I thought: "Sure . . . I'm handy to have around."