Pat died this morning.

Our benighted state requires its citizens to go to Motor Vehicle every four years to renew driver licences in person, so I went to Manahawkin in the morning. I brought my passport, plus a credit card bill (to "prove" I live where I live), and several other forms of identification. The Gestapo agent at the desk was perturbed because my license includes my middle initial and the other documents don't. Incredibly, I believe I was almost denied the renewal for this reason. I was finally able to find a B.J.'s card with the initial on it. What an incredible farce! Of course, any protest against this outrageous invasion of privacy and waste of time is met with the terrorist and/or immigrant argument. Jersey is the pits.
Got the the hospital a bit after 11:00 to find Pat sitting in a chair. We were delighted when his dear niece, Donna E., walked in with a beautiful flower arrangement and the current Sports Illustrated. Had a great visit with her.
The doctor and nurse stopped me in the hall to have the DNR talk, although he has an advance directive on file. Surprising even myself, I started to cry as we discussed what they should do if Pat's heart or breathing stops (keep him comfortable, but no trying to bring him back). I was grateful for their sympathetic manner and glad they had broached the subject, but talk about the pits--.
I left about 2:3o and ran into friends Marge and Fred D. were walking in, Fred there for a test. Went to the mall and bought slacks and a blouse, then back to the hospital. I was pleased when Pat said Marge and Fred had come in to visit him for a few minutes.
Stayed while Pat was eating dinner, then left to get dinner myself. Got a call from A. and E.; A. will be home tomorrow. Was very tired, but woke at 3 am and found it hard to get back to sleep.

Pat seems to be holding his own, as the saying goes. He's now on the fourth floor, which used to be maternity, and is so nice. It's equipped with comfortable chairs, a flat-screen T.V., and looks newly painted and decorated. The window is huge and has a nice view; he has the bed next to it and his roommate went home yesterday.
I got there when visiting hours started at 11:00 to find Barbara D., that good friend, there already. Pat likes her a lot and I enjoyed her company, too. As she was leaving, she asked if I wanted to go downstairs for a cup of coffee--I did and we had a nice chat. He said A. and E., Mike, and his brother, Bill, had called.
I left about 3:30, stopped at Santori's, then went directly to Seacrest to pick up Pat's things. Although he'll probably return there, they pack everything up anyway. I took it home and sorted it out, assembling things I want to bring him in the hospital.
Had one of my sketchy meals for dinner--a whole butternut squash, salad, and cherries. Went to rehearsal, which went well and was home by 9:30.

Pat back in hospital with pneumonia. I was with him when he went into some kind of spasm and had other symptoms. We got to the emergency room at 4:00 pm and he got into a bed just after midnight. More later.

Had a fine time with Peg and Elva at lunch yesterday. We met at 1:00 and stayed talking, laughing, and reminiscing until almost 5:00.
It was somewhat eerie to see Elva again after so long. I had speculated with sister Betty that she might look either like an elegant, middle-aged model (she was a very pretty, 13-year-old blonde when I saw her last) or an over-the-hill frump. She seemed to me an odd combination of both.
A ghost of her former self--and ours, I guess--emerged, especially when we started talking about old schoolmates and former boyfriends. We realized that a surprisingly large number of both have died, an unsettling reminder that we ain't gettin' any younger, but we managed to veer away from that.
Visited Pat before and after; he was in therapy in the morning when I was there. He's doing all right and is continuing to eat all his meals, but I'm still concerned that he doesn't ask for more assistance. Instead, he waits until I get there to ask me.
Tonight, Susan and Walter are talking me out to dinner, as a thank-you for feeding their cat and parrot while they were away last month. Geez, since Pat's been sick, my social calendar is more crowded than ever!
Not that I'm complaining, you understand...
Wider: From the NYTimes:
"The Army plans to require that all 1.1 million of its soldiers take intensive training in emotional resiliency, military officials say...."
I wonder if any combatants will be emotionally stuck on killing. How will the army instill "resiliency" if a soldier says, "Gee, sir, it bothers me to be in an organization designed to kill people. How can I become more emotionally resilient about that?"
I can't imagine any will ask, though.
Wider Still: Yesterday, Elva mentioned with a great deal of pride that her brother had been a fighter pilot during the Vietnam war, had flown a large number of missions, and had been awarded some highly-regarded medal or other. It occurred to me yet again how very difficult--almost impossible--it is to combat the military mindset. What she was actually saying--"Hey, my brother's a great guy; he incinerated a lot of human beings in Asia!"--should make people recoil in horror, but of course, most will react with awed admiration.
As for me, I decided against expressing anti-war sentiments at a such a reunion lunch. Coward that I am, I simply nodded and said, "Oh."

Had a good, if somewhat hectic, day. Went to Seacrest about 9:00 and stayed until 11:30. I was surprised that Pat was taken to p.t.; didn't think they had it on weekends, but was mistaken. What good it does him, though, is iffy, considering he barely cooperates and sneers at it anyway. He ate most of his breakfast and his whole lunch.
Rushed home, had a quick lunch myself and changed to go to "Evita." Just as I was about to walk out the door, A. and E. (gosh! that sounds like a television channel--heh, heh) called on the web cam. Talked for a few minutes, then went next door.
"Evita" was terrific. We then repaired to The Crab Shack, a new restaurant in Manahawkin. I called Pat and he was fine with that. Had shrimp scampi, which was good. After, Frank and Barb came with me to visit Pat. He said the G.'s had been in, but he was asleep at the time. They left cookies and candy. Leslie and Dennis R. were also there and he visited with them.
Got home about 7:30, got into my bedclothes, and gratefully settled down with my p. and w. Watched t.v. and saw a show on sex changers. Interesting. Went to bed and slept like a log.

Spent most of day at Seacrest. Brought a salad for lunch, then left about 2:00 to run errands, wash, etc.; went back until 6:00. After dinner, decided to drive to Manahawkin and got a blouse at Kohl's. Ran into Walter and Susan. They asked if they could visit Pat today. I suggested about 2:00, as I'll be going with Frank and Barbara to "Evita" this afternoon.
Not the best day, actually. At Seacrest, I went outside when I got a call from old schoolmate, Elva G. Just as I walked back into Pat's room, he shoved the over-the-bed table away and everything on it, including a big pitcher of water, crashed to the floor. We had a few other problems, too. Guess I'm getting sick of what seems to be the never-ending role of unpaid servant and object of anger when I don't do something right. When I do perform to his satisfaction, I just get ignored. What a life.
Later: Okay, things are looking up. I'm just back from Seacrest (noon) and we had a pretty good morning. When I got in about 9:00, Pat was just finishing breakfast and he ate a lot. Yesterday, too, he finished his entire lunch and dinner and even asked for more watermelon. He went to therapy after all and when I left, was starting lunch. I'll go to the play with Frank and Barbara, then go back. Better...