10/28/16: So today I had a meeting reguarding my brother Tim. About 10 people, caretakers, social worker, psychologist, nurse... I wanted to address the fact that for the past year or so Tim has pretty much been a zombie and doesn't react to us. In fact, the last time we had seen him he actually turned away several times when Martha and I tried to look at him. Pretty much what I heard these people tell me in relation to my concern was that Tim is happy, he smiles, he has eye contact with them... I was told that I don't see this probably because he is due for his next med ("happy pill") at 4:00, and we come at 2:30, meaning it's pretty much worn off. Gimme a break! They said that maybe Martha and I should come earlier, picking him up from Program. I told them that he used to respond to us, and I passed around pictures of him happy and responsive, and a picture of him in a zombie like state. Not sure I got anywhere with the meeting, but at least they know how I feel. I ended up losing it and crying. Hate it when I do that.
11/4/2016: Today I went to visit Tim alone because Martha had some other obligations. He seemed maybe slightly less zombie like, although he was grinding his teeth when I picked him up and did it off and on through our whole visit, only stopping when I put my hand gently under his jaw and asked him to please stop. I told him that he would be very sad when his teeth were all ground away and he could no longer eat apples and things that he likes, and that would make me sad too. He ate the cut up apple and the peanuts and 5th Ave bar I brought him, but never looked my way and never smiled like he used to do up until last year. I stroked the back of his hair and told him about why Martha wasn't there, and that she loved him and would probably be there next time. I also told him that I would be going on a cruise and wouldn't see him for 3 weeks because of it. I told him Hannah had a baby boy, asked him if he remembered Mom singing a certain couple of songs she used to sing him all the time (which I then sang), and we listened to Dad play his guitar and harmonica. We got the standard chocolate frosty, which Tim downed in less than a minute, while I tried to keep his shirt clean by wiping all his messy drips. I called Robyn (one of his caretakers) when I got home because she had mentioned something about Tim maybe being unhappy when he went out with us because maybe "his knees hurt" getting in and out of the car. I told her that he doesn't act unhappy, but rather it's his complete lack of emotion that concerns us. I told her if I waved my hand frantically in front of his face, I don't even think he'd blink. It's almost like he's had a lobotomy. I told her it's really heartbreaking to see him in this state. She said she understood. We'll see if things change at all. I love him. Sad he got a life like he did... but I know even he has blessings to count.