There must be something I can do

I kept repeating to myself. The next day I said to my husband - we are going to visit someone in a hospital and then we will have a lovely cup of coffee and a cake - trying to sound lighthearted. My husband always detected the slightest anxiety and worry in my voice,he always knew when I was unhappy and even when my heart was crying I would force myself to smile, so that I would not set him off. There is a hospital not far away with adult mental health unit and this was the place where my quest for answers was to begin. And so we went. The door to the hospital firmly closed,no casual visitors allowed. I explained to the porter at the door my husband was not well and I came to seek advice. He let us in. We walked the corridors reading the names on all doors to see where a psychiatrist on duty could be. A pretty young woman approached us and asked if we were looking for someone. I said no-one in particular,just a doctor who would talk to my husband whom I thought had dementia. She looked at me intently.I am a doctor, Italian, here for a six months placement.Would you let your husband talk to me? Oh yes,yes,I said with relief. I was just going to have lunch,but it can wait,please come with me,she continued. We followed her. She showed us into a room and brought a sheet of paper and a pen. She explained she wanted my husband to answer the questions on the paper without any help from me. With every wrong answer her lovely face became more and more concerned. They finished and she said quietly- he has dementia. What can you do to help him? What can I do to help him? She took my arm and pushed up the long sleeve of the sweater. You have bruises on your neck.I knew there will be more.Does this hurt,she asked pointing to the light and dark blue stains interjected with black. Yes. May I,she continued and lifted up my sweater. Oh my God,she said,oh my God. I couldn't help noticing you were limping. Yes, he broke my toe when he threw a television at me and I haven't been able to see a doctor. It is going to get much worse,she said quietly. And unfortunately there is nothing more I can do myself at the moment. Your husband has to be officially assessed,his GP needs to initiate the whole process. His GP. I then gave her a brief rendering of my conversation with HIS GP. Then there IS something I can do for you,I am going to contact him requesting his co-operation. And so she did. A chain of events was set in motion that so often made me ask - how am I going to get through this. How am I going to get through another night,another day. Because nothing, nothing had worked out the way I had expected and hoped it to be.Nothing.