The evil Bill showed up with a vengeance today, along with continued diahrea. Finally got them to call the transplant team after showing them that this was a warning sign and some kaopectate was ordered. But, I am again the bad guy spending all the money and keeping him there against his will. He also spit his medicine out and threw it across the room and then tossed the tv remote after it. I know this is not normal behavior for him, but it doesn't make it easier. It wouldn't surprise me to get a call tonight telling me that he tried to leave. When I told him I was coming home he acted like he was being put in prison and abandoned. He also called 5 times before I could even get home.

I called him back and things seemed fine for a while and then it started over again. So, I told him I wasn't talking about it anymore and he hung up.

The rational part of me understands, but the emotional part is heartbroken. I just don't know what to do anymore. If  I try to be understanding and "nice" it makes it worse, but if I show any emotion he turns into a pouting little boy. It's the same reactions he had with the depression. I've even told them about this but no-one from Mayo on down wants to believe me.

Anyway, for those of you who called this afternoon and evening and didn't get me, answering the phone made things worse and now I just don't feel like talking to anyone. George and Shirley and Don and Shirley, thanks for the birthday wishes. I'll connect with everyone in a few days.