He still drives.
He has a doctor's appointment in Greenville, 46 miles away. I am not going with him this time. He says he will be fine. It just a rotator cuff check. He has been in physical therapy the past six weeks.
He is standing in the doorway with his phone in his hand.
"I'm driving the Blazer. Keep your phone handy in case I break down or something."
Alert...alert...alert... here it comes.
"It's a miracle if I get back safely with the junk I drive."
Crashing. I can't stop myself.
"Then drive the pickup!"
I am shouting now.
"You have a practically brand new not even paid for pick up truck sitting out there. Drive that!"
They can hear me next door, I'm sure. I detect a slight upturn of his lips. He has done it again.
"S...! Why do I let you push my buttons! Why do you say things like that just as you're leaving. You love to get me upset. You can't let me be peaceful for five minutes!"
This did not just start. He had been digging at me all morning.
I had been working on the computer. He stood in the doorway and told me it was time to join the "real world." Said he wanted to turn the heat on to check it out before it gets cold.
"Okay, fine. Turn it on."
"Well, aren't you going to do anything?"
"Well, I don't know. Something."
"No. Just turn it on."
The hvac system is two years old. Maybe three. Not expecting an explosion or anything.
He turned it on. It did not explode. Heat gently rose from the grates, on cue. He was clearly aggravated.
"Well, we still need to put propane logs in that fireplace, in case the heat goes out."
"We talked about that last year, didn't we?"
But he did not get his way last year. Nor will he this year. Propane gives off fumes. I have COPD. End of discussion. I shall not shout about it.
So now we're sitting on the porch. The weather is spectacular! A tad warm for fall, but crisp still.
"That old man was right. We're going from 90 degrees one day to cold the next and that will be that. We don't have seasons change anymore."
"Yes, I know." Nevermind that the season is changing as we sit there watching it change. Alz.org says agree with him, therefore we shall have seasons no more. It therefore shall go from hot to cold because he said so.
I have agreed with him twice. 1)No seasons. and 2) Ok, turn on the heat. He is antsy. He cannot seem to get ready to go to the doctor. Something is missing. He figures it out.
So he manages to frame it in a way I cannot agree - the Blazer is likely to break down. It is junk. That much is true. But he cannot leave the house without his "fix" -- me yelling at him.
I am an idiot. Maybe even a paranoid idiot. He needs for me to yell?
I need to yell?
Alzheimer's is winning.