I well remember the feeling, Casbow, at those (increasingly rare) times when William was peaceful, smiling at me, content, when I'd think "Oh, surely, things aren't so bad. You can go on managing." Unfortunately, these times, at that stage, usually only lasted a short while. When it would come time to need to change his ads or clean him up again and there was only me, there would be the aggression, back in full force. And of course, there was the ongoing problem that he simply was deteriorating in front of my eyes because he would not drink nearly enough nor was he eating enough. Very intelligent man, William. By this point, he'd been in for respite three or four times in the space of a few months. I've wondered since if he was keen to get back to full time care himself, because he always ate and drank well there.