Fiber and Friends

Michael yelled at me last night about (of all things) a Fiber One bar.

Two days ago, I left a fiber bar on his nightstand with a package of apple pastries in case he got hungry during the night. He ate the pastries but the fiber bar was unopened. In a rush to get my lunch packed and on my way to work yesterday morning, I grabbed the bar in question, shoved it into my lunchbag and didn't think any more of it.

Michael, however, did not forget the fiber bar. He claims to have spent HOURS searching for it. (Mr. Exaggeration Man strikes again - at least that's ONE thing that hasn't changed about him!) "I took it in my lunch," says me," we've got more in the pantry, do you want one?"

No response, so I continued to change for bed.

"You aren't dressed," he yelled when I came out of the bathroom. "I thought you were going to the store to get more fiber bars."

"We have some in the pantry," I replied.

"No you did not."

"I asked you if you wanted one," I continued.

By that time he was seething, mad at himself and me, so I fetched a bar for him and plunked it on his table.

I don't know if he ate it or not. But I'm certainly not going to take any food item from his room again.




These days I spend so little time on Facebook and the internet whilst I'm home. So, it was a bit of a surprise when Michael's best friend hailed me via an instant message on Facebook late last night.

"I have something to ask you," he wrote. "Michael keeps telling me not to visit that he's either real tired or busy with the hospice aides. Tell me the truth, is he angry at me or is he just being cantankerous?"

I know how much Martin values his friendship with my husband, so I mentioned to Martin that today would be an excellent day to try again since the hospice aide won't be there. I also put a "bug" in Michael's ear, "Hey, since Priscilla's not going to be at the house tomorrow, why don't you call Martin and see if he's up to a visit?"

"Mr Friendly" (aka Michael) is not real keen on having Martin visit. I'm not 100 percent certain why, but I think he doesn't want anybody beyond our little family to see him in such a deteriorated state. I don't understand that.

There are a lot of things about Michael which I don't understand anymore. Pulmonary fibrosis has robbed me of my husband, stolen Martin's best buddy, and left in his place somebody we don't recognize.