Honestly, I don't worry about finding things for my husband to do. The things he wants to do, he does: goes to his favorite coffee shop and talks to people (I hope they have patience), unloads the dishwasher, makes the bed, does the laundry in the basement, picks up sticks in the yard. He's very proud of all these tasks when accomplished. The rest of the time he watches TV, where he inevitably falls asleep. Some patients like to walk around, others repeat the same tasks over and over. I deal with my husband the way I dealt with my children when they were young: I let them entertain themselves for the most part. They had toys and books and a yard to play in. It was up to them what they did with them. Of course, a parent must be more involved in a child's activities, but I say, if an old fellow wants to watch returns of "Friends" all day long, he has every right to do that. Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm not a micromanager. My kids turned out great and my husband is happy. The anger is part of the deal, I'm afraid. You're not alone and those who don't admit their frustration are in denial about their own feelings. This disease means great loss. Disappointment and anger are inevitable. We have to adapt. When my husband was first diagnosed, I was angry (at what? him? the universe?), then depressed and grief-stricken. When friends asked me how I was doing, I told them how hard things were. Now I accept the reality and am grateful that we're doing as well as we are. When asked how I'm doing, I now say, "Okay." There are lots of stages so you can always say, This too shall pass.