Burt is pretty much in his own world. As long as the hallucinations aren’t scary, I am told there’s no need for me to fret. Or medicate.
We shall see. The multiple mes disturb and unnerve me.
Other aspects are amusing. Burt tried to send me on an errand the other night. When I said, “I can’t leave you alone,” he responded he’d be fine with all these people here.
His behaviors are far from perfect.
I have described him as a thrower because he tosses plates or spoons or food. One day, my soundtrack for this activity was a predictable “now pitching for the NY Mets.”
These glimmers of the bad boy Burt are welcome through this morass of confusion. His defiance can be funny, and when he jumps in to join the laughter, it’s a treat.
Getting him to eat is a struggle. When he was unwilling to take the food we offered, I volunteered, “eating involves chewing and swallowing.”
As I stood over him saying, “Now swallow,” he removed the little ball of food from his mouth. He threw it underhand some 2 feet away. With that, Burt announced, “My hand slipped.” His laughter was infectious and delightful.
this is our life 