About a year ago, Hubby was diagnosed with dementia. It wasn’t ‘bad’, just more forgetful, and sometimes he would get so focused on something that it would be the only thing he could concentrate on.

A year has passed, x-rays, tests every few months, medications… The medications slow progression, what’s lost is ‘gone’. The tests show how the condition is progressing.

I don’t need those tests. I see. When he looks at me, trying to remember how to work the microwave. When he has to be reminded to shower, “Didn’t I just do that”?

As his skills and abilities decrease, and his needs for cues, clues and assistance grow, frustration does too.

He gets angry because he can’t remember or do things and I get angry because I feel like my life is imploding, turning me into a nagging shrew.