It is also one of the catch-22s of Alzheimer's that the greater the need for assistance, the less welcome such assistance will be. Hence, whether I was pointing Jeff toward the proper end of the plane for exiting or trying not to lose him in the flow of humans, his expression remained: "What's your problem?"
This dynamic intensified as we boarded a shuttle bound for the car rental lot. Jeff could not sort out how to place his duffel on the rack, let go of it, then join me on a seat. As I gave him step by step directions, the guy sitting opposite chuckled--clearly one of those "women...pains in the butts, aren't they?" kind of things. Then Jeff decided he needed to put his coat on in the 80 degree F shuttle...and I didn't help. So I think the guy, and--I'm quite certain--the shuttle driver, finally caught on as Jeff couldn't ascertain top, bottom, inside, nor outside of his jacket. Still, I hit a point. One of those points where you know you'll continue to be judged for your "overbearing " behavior by people who have no clue what's actually going on, and I was thankful I had tucked tissues in my carry on bag, as I stared out the bus window and dabbed.