Today was a waiting game. Waiting to hear from the radiologist about my foot injury. I hope tomorrow is the day I get some news on how bad the injury is and how they will treat it. I'm guessing a boot or cast for my foot is in my future, but time will tell how bad the fracture is.
Dean's caregiving for me is coming along fine. He loses his patience alot, but that is nothing new for him. It's harder for me though to keep mine, because my expectations are that he will care for me with no complaint. But I know deep down that just is not going to happen. I try not to take it personal.
His frustrations are mostly with himself. He can't hear me from another room (well, I'm sorry, but I can't leave the room I'm in). He forgets what I've asked him to do or the task seems too complicated for him to follow. Just simple things like not finding something in the refrigerator will set him off. But, hey, I'm used to it after twelve years. Just keep telling myself, it's not me. He's mad at himself because of his own limitations with brain injury and dementia.
I hope I'm not that way with God. I get frustrated when I mess up with Him too. We can be mighty hard on God, without even realizing it. Have you ever thought, "God, I can't hear you. You aren't speaking loud enough for me to get it." Or "God, why are your commandments so hard to follow?" Or "God, I can't find what it is you want me to do."
Please, God, don't take it personal. It's obviously me who just doesn't "get it"--I'm like an old lady with dementia, taking it out on her caregiver.
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