Routine Heat Pump Maintenance

I had a new Trane heat pump installed late last Summer.  I had gotten tired of basic brands failing to the point of needing replacement every 5-8 years.  Somewhat painfully expensive, but it was about the best available (quiet, efficient and should last 12-15 years).

I am a bit slack on maintenance.  

So, funny story!  The installer called me and said it was due for "Fall" maintenance.  They said they sent a post card and I hadn't responded.  And that it had to be scheduled by the following week or I would miss out on this year.

Well, statements like that immediately raise red flags in my mind.  Sounded like spam.  So I checked my files and found the company that called was the installer (I had forgotten their name) and the phone number did match the one on the installation record.  

So I called, expecting they wanted to schedule a maintenance visit for next October.  I could understand that they wanted to make sure the heat pump kept running during the 5 year warranty.  So, OK, I can write a visit for next October on my calendar..

Turns out that they have a different definition of "Fall" than I do.  So a confusing conversation ensued.  I'll repeat it as best I can...

Company:  We need to schedule a Fall maintenance visit.  It's included in your purchase.

Me:  OK, when?  (I'll accept a free maintenance visit)

Company:  Monday.

Me:  Monday when?

Company:  Next week.

Me:  For "Fall" maintenance?

Company:  Yes.

Me: But Fall is 8 months away!

Company:  Yes, but if we don't schedule it now, we close the books next week!

   --------

OK, to shorten the confusion, I'll mention that they live with Fall/Winter and Spring/Summer maintenance schedules.  So in company lingo, they just say Fall and Spring.  I finally figured out they were talking about Last Fall and This Winter!  LOL!

So of course I scheduled a visit.  The guy who came did a good job (so far as I can tell).  Blew out some dust, tightened some screws, hooked up some equipment that (as I asked him to explain for future understanding) tested air-flow, temperature input/output, and internal electrical connections, etc.

Everything was working fine.  😍

But there was a slight problem left over from the installation.  The installer disconnected my self-installed humidifier.  I don't know why, but it was deliberate because he installed a sheet metal patch over the hole where the control was and left the wires hanging.  

I'll be kind, and assume he meant to reinstall it after he had the basic system instaalled and test.  But the fact remains that he didn't.  And I had been struggling to understand the circuit diagrams in order to reconnect the wires and replace the control dial.  And failed.  A picture is worth a 1,000 words but a circuit diagram is useless to me.  

So since I had a guy here, I asked if he could just connect the wires easily.   I mean, it was their company that disconnected them.  And I apologized in advance if humidifiers weren't his problem.  He said he knew all about them and looked at the wires and parts.  Took the cover back off the inside air blower.  Looked for where the humidity-detector should attach.  

Couldn't reattach it with what he had.  System is 240 volts, and the humidity-detector is 120, so it needs an adapter.  Plus "spade-joints" (a kind of wire terminator plug on - yeah I don't know those either).  Well, his maintenance kit doesn't come with those.  

I am scheduled for Spring/Summer maintenance in June.  He said to remind the Company then, that I need those.  OK.

The good news is that this has been a damp Winter and the humidifier wasn't needed much (in past pre-humidifier years, my lips cracked, the cat were static-shocked during petting, and I could turn on my bedside fluorescent light by just touching the metal base).  And I had an old single room humidifier in the bedroom set up again.  So an easy Winter.

So I got through Winter anyway, even with the central air one not working.  But I sure intend to make sure they get it rewired properly at the Spring/Summer maintenance visit!

I am still cracking up over the confusing phone call scheduling yesterday's visit...  You have to accept the strange conversations in life sometimes.

Movie

I saw the weirdest movie last night.  The title was 'Mud'.  I think that was the name of a central character.  I say "think" because it was spoken with a Southern US AND "mumbly-teen" accent (which this old Yankee has trouble with).  And I came across it 1/3 in.

I don't really have the slightest idea what the intent of the movie was really about.  Something about 2 teenage boys struggling to get by with minor thievery and a couple of problematic adult relationships in the background.  It made little sense to me, but I just couldn't stop watching.

The 2 teens are clever in some street-sense ways (but its country-side) but not really smart and unguided.  The adults are all a bit "unsane".  No relationships seem to work.  

I could look it up on Wiki, but I don't really want to.  I want to just "let it sink into my brain" for a day or two...

It sort of reminds me of 'The Last Picture Show'.   Or maybe 'Friends'.  I think some Dickens might be involved.  

I had a friend once who was really into movies.  He could tell you about side notes, meanings, minor actors of nearly any movie.  He even knew what a "gaffer" was.  But I bet he couldn't explain this one.

Have any of you seen it?

Banks and Money

I almost hesitate to post about this.  It involves moving money around and, if you don't have it, reading about it is probably awkward and and annoying.

I have an account at a Credit Union from my career days.  And I have an account at a regular commercial bank.  I recently discovered that my Credit Union pays somewhat better interest on savings accounts than my commercial bank does.  So it made sense to transfer money from my commercial bank savings account to my Credit Union savings account.

My point of writing about this is how HARD it is to transfer the savings and it doesn't mter how much is involved. 

These days, you can do almost any financial transfer online.  But apparently not between a commercial bank and a credit union!  There is some barrier between them.

I called the credit union first.  I assumed there was some information about them I needed to enter into the commercial bank website.  They disabused me of that notion real fast.  "Can't be done online", even though I'm online with both the credit union and the commercial bank. 

"Can only be done by 'wire transfer' ".  And by the 10th piece of information, with more to come, I called a halt!  I asked, what if I just gave you a check from my commercial bank?  Couldn't you just deposit it in my credit union account? 

"Sure", they said, "just mail it to us, but we need to look up how to receive a check and we'll call you back".

ARGGGGHHHH!   "Dumber than a bag of sand" comes to mind.

It never occurred to my credit union "helper" to mention that to begin with?

Its not like I'm Donald Trump trying to send them a billion dollar check.  I just would prefer to get .35% on my savings at the credit union as opposed to .01% at the commercial bank.  Its not like the difference is going to get me a world cruise or anything, but why deliberately get less, right?

I'm only going through this because my credit union is an hour away now, and I'm beginning to wish I HAD just driven there and handed them a check.

No wonder that rich people have accountants to tell to do things like this.  If I was Donald Trump, I'd have an specialist bank accountant too.  Its maddening!  You would think I was trying to convert Russian Rubles into Swiss Francs through some fly-by-night African bank. 

And here I sit, waiting for some "expert" at the credit union to call me back with details on how to send them a simple check safely.  Feeling like an idiot for causing a fuss... 

I'm sure glad I didn't spend my working years involved in finances...

A Mystery Computer Reception

OK, this is going to be a bit weird, so please forgive any confusion in advance.

30 minutes ago, a short story flashed onto my screen in Word.  I do not know why or how.  I do not recognize the story, I have not used Word recently, and I cannot find any email with any such attachment.  It appears to be a short story about Ayla from Clan Of The Cave Bear about her days before the books began.

I certainly did not write it myself any time because it uses letters I cannot create "Çocukdünya". it is not in my writing style , It mentions "Iza" who is a character later in the COTCB book, and an original name for Ayla (Nefeyli) that has never crossed my mind.  A Google search for Nefeyli, Iza, and Grub (another character in the received short story) yields nothing.  I am baffled.  But interested...  

If you are the person who somehow sent it to me, or know anything about this short story or author, please contact me more directly at cavebear2118 AT verizon DOT net, post on my blog, or do anything you please to contact me further.

For now, I don't care how or why it suddenly popped up on my screen, I just want to more about the story's origin and why I received it.  And anything you want to tell.  I've saved the story adding a note to the top that it is not mine so that I won't get too confused seeing it again years from now and wondering about the origin of it.

But, whoever you are, I really do want to hear from you again...

Mark 

Update:  Never mind, mystery solved.  It was an attachment I did not see in an April email .  Why it suddenly opened now I don't know, but everything is OK.

Mark

ARRRGH!

You ever have one of those days when you just can't seem to do ANYTHING right?  I sure had "that" day both Wednesday  AND Thursday, LOL!

First I posted my own post on the Mews's blog, and they really clawed up my ankles for it.  I had to give them extra treats to calm them down.

Then, I tried to move the post to MY blog, intending to delay it a day, but I managed to just hit "publish" without remembering that.  So I deleted it to reschedule it.

Then, somehow, I managed to put the re-do it ON THE MEWS' BLOG AGAIN!  Thankfully, they didn't see THAT (I would have had to break out the HAM in payment).  It's OK, they won't see THIS; they never read MY blog.

I finally got it all straightened out (I think).  All I can imagine is that the freedom from responsibility for Dad made me temporarily "hasty".  I trust I am over it now (or at least soon).

My apologies for all the confusion.  I know that some RSS feeds show all the posts even though they have been deleted.  Rebooting personal programming in 3... 2... 1...

Neediness

Dad has become for needy of my physical presence lately.  It's not a new thing, but it has increased the past month.

He has previously been "lonely" if I do not sit with him in front of the TV, and sometimes he has suddenly walked around the house searching for me if he doesn't know where I am.  Its annoying.  Like the way a Mother can hardly go to the bathroom without toddlers banging on the door...

At least, with toddlers, you can expect them to grow out of it.  With an elder, you know it is only going to get worse.  It used to be that, if I got involved with yardwork or cleaning the basement, it would be a couple hours before Dad got worried about where I was.  I could always tell when I started hearing banging on the floor above going back and forth along the hall rapidly (for him).  So I would stop whatever I was doing and go upstairs to let him know I was around, remind him that I had told him I was working in the basement, and see if I could find him something interesting to watch on TV.

Then, I could return to what I was doing for a while with Dad at least remembering where I was in the house for another hour or two.

That time has shrunk to about 30 minutes.  I can't get away from him for very long.  Its not like I'm "hiding in the basement".  The gardening season is starting, and I am way behind in getting the place organized for the new season.  In previous years, I have kept the basement relatively organized; this past year, I have just not had the time.  It needed hours of cleanup and organization.  I have taken all the shortcuts I could since Dad arrived, and it caught up to me!

I've tried to do things an hour at a time, then spend enough time around Dad so that he knew I was there and go back to what I was doing in the basement.  I'm worn out...

The other problem that is getting worse is Dad expecting me to go do bed every night when he does.  He used to sometimes go to bed after me (and could turn off the lights and TV) .

And, BTW, I just did my 15 minutes of talking to Dad and "watching" his Fox News show, to comfort him with my presence.  I don't say that mockingly.  He needs a reminder of my presence to feel like he has not been abandoned.  Sometimes when I go out grocery-shopping, he is desperate for attention by the time I get back (about 1.5 hours from driving and shopping time).

I spent the last 30 years living by myself (with the various combinations of cats).  I LIKE living alone (with cats).  I used to just get up at 5 am, feed the cats, shower, dress, drive to meet my carpool, spend 9.5 hours at work, carpool back, drive home (after doing some brief grocery-shopping) by 6 pm.  I had 3, maybe 4 hours before I had to go to bed, and I spent a lot of the weekends sleeping.  I had to pack everything I wanted to do otherwise into those few weeknight and precious weekend hours.  Many of you do too.

I'm not used to accounting for my free time, in spite of so much more than I have now that I am retired.  But I was so happy with retired life and here is Dad dropped in...  I hate it.  I'm a responsible child, I always was (elder child syndrome).  I'm doing this because I "have" to.  I'm doing this because I should, I'm doing this because its "right", I'm doing this because because I was the right person to do it when the time came.  That doesn't mean I like it...

Well, yeah, few people like caring for an elder parent.  Its awkward, it changes the routine of life, it's difficult.  But am I right that MOST people who care for an elder parent are doing it with help from family?  A spouse, local children who visit, some old friends of the elder, your own friends who visit you and relate to the elder parent sometimes?

I don't.

I wish he really needed an "assisted-living facility".  He doesn't yet (by my unprofessional guess).  But I need him to need it. 

I live a rational, knowledgeable life.  I don't understand really what it means not to know how to do simple things like open curtains, flush a toilet, separate metal from compostable stuff in different containers,  read a simple 1099 tax document or a monthly bank statement, etc.  Answering the same questions about those things every single day is driving me nuts.  Sometimes, it is the same question 3 times in 15 minutes...

Nothing in my entire life has prepared me for this.

Back To Dad

Well, it seems like I am talking about Dad almost all the time these past months.  It IS the major focus of my life.  I can't avoid it; just having another person in the house is strange.  Having an adult who is becoming less able and more confusing is even stranger. 

I understand, intellectually, that Dad is forgetting more and more things.  But its the THINGS he is forgetting that are most confusing.  I understand that older memories are more stable and new ones are iffy.

Last week, the sun started setting so that it shined on the chair he sits in and he wanted to close the drapes partially.  I happened to walk into the room, and he was flicking the deck light switch on and off trying to get the drapes to close.  I showed him the cord on the side that you pull to open/close the drapes.  OK, he hadn't had to do that in months, maybe years (picturing his FL house).

The next day, I had to tell him again.

Today, he pointed to the toolshed in the house next door and asked when they built it.  I said about 15 years ago.  He said "No, this is new".  I looked at it was the same old shed.  It might have been a bit brighter from the lower angle of the sunlight.  He said "NO, it wasn't there yesterday".  I mentioned that he had looked at it a couple months before and asked me what that yellow box was attached to my shed, and that I had explained it was the neighbor's shed. 

OK, so he forgot that and the different sunlight made it stand out more.  But he said that he looks out that window every day and it wasn't there before.  I said "Dad, I KNOW my yard and the views from it.  That shed has been there many many years".  He insisted it hadn't been there before. 

Sigh...  OK, I'm not the most diplomatic person in the world.  I told him his memory was failing.  I've been honest about things like that with Dad.  Not to be cruel, but to be realistic.  It seems important to me, as his caretaker, and for him, that he accepts that I am always going to be right on simple factual things.  Things like day of the week, time to take pills (and whether he has or hasn't), when he needs to change his clothes, what he can safely do himself or not do, etc.

I also understand that trusting other people on factual stuff is hard for him.  Even decades ago, in the prime of his life, he never thought ANYONE else was right about ANYTHING he didn't know personally.  I used to spend a lot of time researching factual disagreements to prove him wrong.  Me 100, Dad 0, and that never affected him in the least!  He had that kind of selective memory that forgets all lost disagreements.

Could I have that same kind of selective memory?  No.  I remember all my mistakes all too well.  I hate being factually wrong as much as Dad does but I acknowledge it and remember.

So when Dad got overly insistent that the neighbor toolshed had NOT been there a few days ago, I tried to relate the situation to the drapes (see above).  I was direct about it.  I simply asked Dad if he knew how to close the drapes to keep the sun out of his eyes in the afternoon.  He looked at them, but he couldn't recall.

So I pointed out that he had asked me how to close the drapes every day the past week, and I had shown him every day the past week.  That his short-term memory wasn't working as well as it used to.  That he didn't remember seeing that neighbor's toolshed there while looking out the window previously.  That he had to start trusting me on those simple things...

I'm not trying to score points against Dad.  That's as pointless as beating your 5 year old at chess.  It isn't a contest.  Its about getting Dad to accept that he can't remember some kinds of things.  Does he want to acknowledge that?  Of course not.  Neither would I.  But can he accept that?  I think he can. 

I need him to trust me.  Because as he gets less able, that is going to become more important for him than for me.  When he gets too difficult to take care of (or live with), he is going to have to move to an assisted-living facility. 

I haven't mentioned the idea ever.  And I won't until I can't bear the situation any longer.  I wouldn't ever threaten him with it or even hint at it.  But I am always aware that the day will come. I will both hate that day, but also be relieved.  I both love him and want to take care of him, but he s also driving me nuts and completely upending my life. 

I hope you understand the conflict.  I you do, then you've "been there".  If not, I hope you get your turn taking care of an elder relative so that you will understand...

Its a valuable life experience.

Ah, Dad...

I thought today was going to be the end of my struggles to finish up Dad's 2011 taxes.  His tax prep firm (not as impressive as it sounds) thoughtfully filed an extension request in April when they realized they had stopped getting tax info from Dad.  By the time I learned the forms hadn't been filed, it was July and I thought there was plenty of time.  When I finally (it was like pulling teeth) got through Dad's records, I realized there were problems. 

I sent all I could find to the tax prep firm, thinking they could get the missing stuff.  A couple months later, I learned that WE had to get them (hey, MY taxes are simple and I'm not familiar with Dad's finances).  They sent me a list of missing documents.  Some of them were ones I was sure I had sent, so I concentrated on the ones I didn't know about.  Some requests went unanswered.  When it takes weeks to find out there was no response, that uses up a lot of weeks.  2 govt forms were to take 3-5 weeks for reply, so when they didn't show up...  ARGH.  Apparently website requests don't work very well.

By today, I had all the forms I thought were needed.  "THOUGHT were needed" is the operative phrase here.  After all was compiled, I discovered that the property tax payment receipts for 2 rental condos in NH were only HALF present.  I pay my property taxes annually, and I had his condo tax forms for 2011.  Even had it checked off the list.  But HIS are twice a year and he didn't have the one for the 2nd half of 2011.

No problem, he writes a check for them, it will be in his checkbook.  Now, understand that Dad doesn't actually balance his checkbook.  He just writes in the dollar amount and trusts the bank to get it all right (and they do - I haven't found an error in a bank statement in my life).  Except that he didn't write down the amount of the check in his register.  2 failures of that in the entire check register and THAT had to be one of them.  OK, maybe no problem.  I'll just look at his monthly bank statement and get the amount from there.

Right...  No such luck.  Dad thinks monthly statements aren't worth keeping for long.  The check amount I needed was for November 2011.  His records go back to December...

Three completely independent ways of getting one single dollar amount, and he has none of them.  

Since he moved here in May, I have constantly fought with him about keeping financial documents.  He doesn't like to "because the folders get too fat".  He could live to 120 and not fill up the file drawer...

I know the check number of the missing property tax payment, and I called his bank to see if they will just tell me the amount over the phone.  But that will be tomorrow at best.  And now a stock form I got last month is missing.  I may have left it on the table.  In which case, Dad may have decided he didn't need it or stashed it in a folder somewhere.  I'll have to search through his entirely unorganized folders and hope he didn't just trash it.  It gets stranger than I can actually describe.

Did I mention that he has started putting grapes in his martinis.  He is thinking of olives, I assume.  Well, the grapes ARE green and round...

Dad vs The Hurricane

The newest surprise has been hurricane fears.  It's happened before.  Dad hears a weather forecast about a hurricane or other serious weather and wants to take immediate action.  The problem is (among many, of course) that his sense of distance and time are pretty much all shot now.

One time last month, there was a tornado alert.  The path was a good 30 miles away and no threat.  But either "30 miles" seems "down the street" or he thinks tornados are very large.  I can't tell by asking.  But he wanted to know where we should seek shelter, what foods we should bring into a shelter, etc.  I explained that the tornado THREAT was quite far away, and I did explain to him that the house shelter is under the basement stairs.

Its a reasonably good shelter, for not being constructed as one.  The basement is cinderblock walls.  The basement stairs go down from the front door.  The space under the basement stairs is covered with 1/2" T1-ll plywood on one side and a heavy workbench on the other. I made a 2'x3' cutout in the T1-11 panel for access years ago.  So an area about 4'Wx3'Hx8' (sloped under the stairs) is surrounded by heavy plywood, cinder blocks, cement steps, and stairs above.  Not that I expect to ever need it (it was all happenstance of construction),  but its nice to have.  Still, it took a while to calm him down.  Now his concern is that it might take too long to get into it, LOL!.

Hurricane threats aren't all THAT sudden, but I said I would drag him downstairs and into the basement shelter if necessary (with a smile in my voice) but such drastic steps won't be required. 

It really started when I was smoking a pork shoulder on the deck on Friday.  He came out and said my plans were about to be ruined.  I asked why (looking at the sky for a thunderstorm). He said a hurricane was coming and would ruin the cooking.  He said it was on the TV, so I went in to look.  Hurricane Sandy was down level with  Florida and about 500 miles east.  Moving at about 4 miles per hour...  I told him it was about 3 days away if it even came past us, but he didn't believe me.  After all, CNN was warning about a hurricane and "it was close".

Actually, I was glad for that because I knew it wasn't an immediate threat.  But Dad was convinced we were going to get hit by Hurricane Sandy that afternoon.  Again the worries about power loss and no food.  We had to make preparations for being without food and power for days, he insisted.

I went through the drill.  We have underground cables and almost never lose power.  We have plenty of food frozen and that will stay good at least a whole day.  I have canned food.  Potatoes and corn are good for days at room temperature and I could cook on the grill on the deck if we needed to (not that we would need to).  Heck, if I had to, I could trap a few squirrels and cook them in the fireplace!  I've skinned and cooked a few squirrels in my life.  And the closet has a few weeks worth of cat food (for the cats).

Dad shouldn't be all that worried about hurricanes.  He never had a traumatic experience with one (well, OK, he lost a boat to one in 1968, but it was never a personal threat).  Its the developing fear of "threats" that I am seeing now.  I do my best to make sure he feels secure and safe these days.  There isn't much more I can do to convince him that I will take good care of him that I'm not already doing. 

It saddens me that he does not trust me factually or in my judgement.  I understand that he fears things that won't actually happen because he has difficulty understanding that a hurricane striking Cuba isn't going to strike us here in Maryland later that day.  But I guess it is difficult for a parent to realize that a (adult) child is knowledgeable and experienced.  Even when the "child" is 62.  LOL!

Living with an elderly parent is a lot like living with a young child.  Only opposite.  They both don't have knowledge.  The difference is that a child will slowly become more competent and an elderly parent will not.  Its that "not" that is so hard to deal with.   

Living with a child is (generally) seeing it learn. Living with an elder parent is seeing it forget.  Watching the forgetting is very hard.  Very frustrating.  Very confusing.  Children don't even notice a sound in the kitchen.  A parent is in there, so it must be OK.  Dad reacts to every strange sound.  If a knife falls off the cutting board, he hobbles in and asks what that "explosion" was.  If I tap the veggie scrap bowl into the compost can, he thinks someone is "banging on the door".  Yet he can't hear the phone ring.  I think he hears better when he is dozing off in his chair and a sound gets into a semi-dream.

I'd sure rather be raising a child with some promise for the future than dealing with an elder parent for whom things are only going to get worse...  Knowing that things are only going to get more confusing in the coming months is sad.

I'm trying to get past arguing with him when he says things that don't make much sense.  But he SEEMS rational most of the time.  The change can happen without a sign one moment to the next.  I have to "let go" (thank you Nellie's Mom) and not be corrective about the small things.  That's going to be difficult.  Father/Son dynamics, and all that.

I guess that, in this matter, the hurricane is a good thing.  There ARE serious concerns that are not basically irrational, just mis-estimated in time and place.  Well, better something real than him worrying about Black Helicopters and Aliens...

Dadisms

The continuing voyage of Mark and Dad (and 3 cats) through the changing universe of ElderHeisenbergish uncertainty.  Stardate 2012.10.16...

SOCIAL SECURITY CARD - When getting Dad's 2011 Social Security payment tax document, I found a place to get replacement social security cards.  I lost mine years ago (lost wallet).  So I downloaded the form twice.  One for me and one for Dad.  I asked him (then) and he wanted a new one.  When I got around to filling out the form for Dad, I didn't have all the information.  I had no idea where Dad was born!  And it asked his parents' SSA numbers which I didn't have, plus needed Dad's birth certificate (which I couldn't find.  So I waited until we sat down to pay his next bill (that focuses his mind on documents).

We paid his FL house electric bill today (house still unsold because Dad WAY overvalues it) and I brought out the replacement SSA form.  He decided he didn't want a new one because his was "in great shape".

I challenged him to show it to me, because I hadn't seen one in his wallet.  I should know better...

He spent an hour fumbling through his wallet (stopping to shave for 15 minutes in the middle), and FINALLY came out with his Medicare card.  Well, it does have his SS# on it.  I went around and around with him about that NOT being his SS card.  He said it was the original SSA card and I pointed out that Medicare didn't exist when he was issued his SSA card!  Blank stare...

Eventually, he refused to sign the replacement card form and I shredded it (there was personal information I had filled out).  THEN, he says, "well, there are some other cards in my jewelry box".

Other cards?  After 5 months of asking about cards?  Argh.  Well, he went and brought them out.  Most were useless cards.  Old hunting license, golf club membership from 20 years ago,  etc, AND a beat-to-death SSA card.

So he said "see, I TOLD you I had it"!  This after insisting over and over that his Medicare card WAS his SSA card...  Well, at least we found it.  And it IS beaten all up and not very readable.  So he decided he could use a replacement after all (because I suggested that his beaten-up card was historical and should be saved while he used a replacement card for "everyday".

Now I have to find the replacement card form again because he REALLY wants one now...  LOL!  I'll do that happily...

2011 TAX FORMS - I've been struggling to get replacement forms for Dad's 2011 taxes (overdue as of yesterday).  I had sorted out ALL the documents he said he had months ago, found his tax preparer a while ago and contacted them about missing documents, and gotten a list of documents the tax folks still needed.  The problem was that Dad seems to have decided back in March that most documents were just "trash" and he stopped keeping them.

I value govt workers.  Thet do the best they are allowed to do.  I was one of them.  But I can see why some people don't like govt agencies.  I went NUTS trying to find how to get replacement 2011 tax forms for SSA and OPM annuity tax forms.  It took weeks.

When I needed the same from 2 banks and one investment firms, they emailed the documents to me the same day.

I don't want to blame the govt workers because they are constrained by laws passed by Congress to protect private information and businesses can just send it to anyone immediately*.  But the last documents I will get are govt ones.

Dad is convinced I am wasting time by not just using last year's numbers (which he also doesn't have because they seemed not worth keeping at the time),  He doesn't believe that false numbers are worse than no numbers.  He might be right; I doubt the IRS will throw a 90 year old guy in prison for filing taxes a month late, or even assign penalties (the tax preparers say penalties are also very unlikely given his age).

But he drives me nuts with the irrationality.  I know he isn't to blame.  I can see he is doing the best he can.  I bite my tongue a lot and sit patiently for an hour while he fusses through things most times.  OK, I invent excuses to leave the table (bathroom, mail, cats, laundry).


WHERE DAD LIVES - Dad has lived in 4 places in the past 32 years.  One is here, for 5 months.  The others are almost completely lost to him. Vague memories if specific facts are mentioned. 

There's more, but I'll save it.  This is getting too long...  And the one most lost to him is the immediately previous one.  If Dad went to assisted living (not that he will be any time soon) he would not recall living with me after about a month...

* All the businesses needed was an account number I could have gotten from a neighbor's trash and an old guy who claimed to be Dad on the telephone.  The govt agencies practically needed a life history and fingerprints.  Think about that when you complain about govt...

More Sads and Confusions

I should mention that I'm grateful for all the recommendations from readers/friends/family.  They are all good, but all situations and personalities are different so some fit with Dad and I better than others.  For example, respite care is suggested often, and I don't really need respite care yet.  I will one day, but I can get away for a couple of hours at a time now because Dad can take care of himself for hours at a time.  I can go grocery shopping, work on the computer, or spend time out in the yard without much problem.  So I'm not desperate for small amounts of time "off" yet.

The meal preparation, laundry, and cleaning is not a problem either.  I like to cook and have always spent time on it for myself.  Cooking for two is not much extra work.  Although I will say that preparing meals on a set schedule is new to me (and annoying).  I've always been an "eat when hungry" person, plus its never bothered me to skip a meal when I was busy.  With Dad, I MUST make lunch at noon and dinner at 6.  That part's hard, but not something I'm willing to hand off to a professional.

Perhaps the best routine gain Dad has from living here is the food.  When I picked up Dad in FL in May, I discovered he was living on hot dogs, frozen fish and ice cream.  Now he has a healthy cereal for breakfast (his effort not mine), a sandwich of home-made bread, some meat, lettuce, and onions, with sliced tomato, carrot sticks, radish, and a pickle on the side.  Dinner is some few ounces of fresh meat with lots of veggies over rice or spaghetti, tossed salad, green veggie, and potato or corn.  He wants sweet stuff for dessert (and gets some) but I get a lot of fresh fruit into him too.

Cleaning is different.  As a bachelor, I don't clean like my mother did.  But from seeing Dad's place in FL, I clean a bit more than he did.  I watched him clean a table once and some dishes once, and there is no way I will let him do that again.  If he cleans something, I thank him and then clean it properly later when he isn't paying attention.  The weird thing is that I would clean MORE often, but he wants to "help" and that is worse than doing it myself.

Laundry is not much more than just for me.  Like many old folks, Dad wears the same clothes too long.  Well, its not like he works up a sweat sitting in a chair watching TV all day, but I image that dead skin cells add up.  I change outfits every day; Dad would wear them for a week.  Its not TOO hard to remind him that he wore "those clothes" for 3 days.  I do my own laundry often enough that I can "offer" to do his at the same time.

Memory-Fail example:  EVERY time I mention laundry, Dad wants to accompany me down to the basement to see how the washer and dryer work.  He never recalls that he has done that every week for 5 months...  Sometimes I get off easy when he allows me to "just wash his".  There is a reason his laundry hamper is in the main bathroom.  So I can see that it gets fuller and when he has run out of clean underwear...

And I should admit right out that I don't have Dad here because I am lonely (as Dad [and some friends] sometimes imagines).  I LOVED living alone (with the cats of course).  And I look forward to living alone again some day.  I understand that it won't be this year.  It may not be next year (but that will be stretching my perseverance thin).  Dad is here because I was told he could no longer live on his own, The day poop dribbles out the bottom of his pants and he doesn't notice, he will discover assisted living facilities.  I am many things, but I am not a bodily nurse.  I don't have the stomach for it.  If I see a kid throw up on TV, I throw up.  There are things I can do and things I can't.  Its all I can do to flush the toilet when Dad forgets to (which is always now).

I'm doing this because it is required, I am the best child to live with at this specific time, and I don't know how to get out of it.

I get Dad now because my sister Susan and I agreed years ago that she would take Mom and I would take Dad if one or the other needed elder care.  Sexism makes sense sometimes.  50/50 chance, and I lose.  Thats normal for me.

No, the new stuff I intended to write about was about Dad's mental lapses.  The above was just all an  indroduction to why the physical stuff wasn't that important but the mental stuff was.

As Arlo Guthrie said, "Ive gone on for 20 minutes, I can go on for another 20 minutes.  I'm not proud.  OR tired."  Or something like that...

Today Dad forgot how to count money.  I saw him take cash out of his wallet, and he started writing down numbers on post-it sheets.  I knew what he was trying to find out.  How much cash he had.

It deeply saddens me that he could not add OR count.  He tried counting directly and came up with different numbers.  He tried listing the amounts of the individual bills.  He kept coming up with different numbers.

I like it when Dad gets obsessed with things because it keeps him harmlessly occupied.  Watching golf, listening to silly Fox News, reading the new privacy documents from his credit card company, deciding what to do with the address labels that all charity groups send.  When he gives up, I explain them in simple words and trash them (well, I save the address labels; he likes those).

But back to the money-counting.  Dad can't count money annynore.  He confuses the denomination with the quantity of them.  He wrote down 10 lists of bills.  Every one was wrong.  The specific falure is that he writes $20 no matter how many of the 20s there are.  He can count the other bills right.

My frustration is when he can't THINK straight.  Thats what drives me crazy.  I cant blame him, but it still makes things so hard for me.

Dad was always factually-oriented.  So am I.  But he is losing it SO badly and SO fast.

We were watching a show about dinosaurs after dinner.  He said (as he so often does lately)  "they don't know the size of those reptiles.  They could be ten times or one tenth that size".  I mentioned that "they" have the bones.  Dad said "yeah, but they still can't tell"!  He dismisses everything that he does not know for sure himself..  OK, he ALWAYS has, but he's getting WORSE.

He confuses me.  When I said "but they have the bones", he didn't care.  The fact had no importance to him.  He has lost all analysis ability.   And THAT'S what is hardest for me to deal with.  The loss of mental existence.

He exists physically, he can walk (and better with the cane we bought last week).  But his mind is going, and that is the part I am struggling with.

He thought Sarah Palin was in the vice presidential debates this year.  When I said she was 4 years ago he said I was "all wet".  He thought Reagan was president.  Then he thought McCain lost, but not Palin as VP.  Then he decided he wasn't sure who McCain's VP was.  Maybe Romney.

Anything I say is wrong.  I should ignore that but I can't.  My whole life has been factually oriented.

Time to start ignoring everything Dad says, isn't it?  But how?  I need to talk to him because he talks to me.  I don't know how to ignore him.

Back To Dad...

This is probably repetitive, but Dad is getting worse.  I don't mean to say that I expected him to get better, but in good weeks he stays at least the same.  This was not one of those weeks.

I'm almost feeling bad writing about his problems.  Those who are experiencing elder care (spouse or child) already know how the weeks go, and those who don't can't quite understand it.  But the last week has gone downhill, and I have to write about it.  Nothing especially "horrible".  It just the increasing confusion that makes things so difficult. 

I'm not sure whether I imagined this in a dream or whether I saw it in print somewhere, but I have this image of a 1 panel cartoon with a grampa, a middle-age adult, and and a baby.  Each has a thought balloon...

The middle-age adult's says "they are driving me crazy".  The Grampa's says "I'm getting worse".  The baby's says "I'm going to get more able".

I'd rather have the baby, but I have the Grampa, and I didn't get to choose.

Lest you think that this middle-aged adult doesn't know what babies are like, I do.  I was the eldest child and my youngest sister was born when I was 15.  Guess who was the constant babysitter?  I'll bet I changed more diapers and cleaned more bottoms than many fathers.  Not "all" but "many"...

Dad is more confusing almost every day.  I both wish and don't wish that he would reach the point where I can't care for him 

1.  The "wish" part comes from the way he is so confused sometimes that he confuses ME and I don't know how to respond.  I would love to be relieved of the confusion.  The simplest things are baffling him, and he seeks explanations.  I give them as simply as I can, of course, but simple isn't always complete and he can still detect that "sometimes". 

An example:  It is the time of year here when days stay warm but nights get cold.  I am used to turning on the heat at night and the AC in the day to keep the house between 7 and 73 year-round (yes, I'm a temperature wimp - I have a very precise comfort zone).  Outside, temp variations are broad because there is wind and open air.  Outside, I am happy between 60 and 80. 

Anyway, Dad has insisted that the floor vents in his bedroom and the TV room (where he spends ALL day) be blocked "from that damned freezing air".  Which worked well all Summer...  But now the temperatures fluctuate.  Yesterday, he called me in to look at the floor.  He was horrified to find COLD AIR pouring up from the vent! 

There was a reason.  The day before, I advised Dad that I was turning on the heat at night so he wouldn't feel too cold.  But that he would have to replace the closed vent cover in the daytime when the AC came one cuz it got over 80 degrees.  He said he understood that.  But he forgot that of course.

Tonight, we had the exact same discussion, and he (angrily) said he understood the vent had to be changed each day,  Tomorrow, we will have the same discussion again, because he won't recall any of it (and more importntly, won't understand WHY the vent has to be changed to suit his comfort zone.  I understand that he will NEVER remember about the vent...  I accept it.  But it drives me nuts to explain the same thing day after day.

2.  The "don't wish" part is that I don't want Dad to lose his mind.  I am used to him being angrily conservative while I am unapologetically progressive (not always "liberal", there's a difference).  But him being "nuts" (technical term, LOL) is very different.  He asks me the weirdest things sometimes.

Is the chicken cooked?
Do you have a sandwich for yourself?  (He has the other half of our mutual lunch sandwich - It's a big loaf).
Same with giving him a half a peach after a meal.  "Do you have some for yourself?"  (Yes I have the other half and its on the plate right next to me).
Are you having dinner too?  (seeing two chicken thighs cooked and one on each of our plates).
He won't eat a snack of potato chips if he doesn't see some on my plate.

But those are the minor examples.

He knocked on my bedroom door last night at 3 am and asked if I was warm enough.  Warm enough?  I was sweating from the heat of 73.  And at 3 am?  And does he not think I can mange the temperture of the house?   HE can't.  He has no idea how the thermostat works.

He asks the same questions EVERY day.  Did I get enough sleep? Am I hungry?  Do I see a groundhog outside?  Did I hear someone knocking at the door?    Have I washed?  Can I hear the TV? 

He's basically insane.  I sleep well; if I'm hungry, I eat; If I'm cold, I wear warmer clothes (he doesn't), if someone knocks at the door, I will answer it (seldom happens), I wash my hands a dozen times a day (cleaning kitty litter boxes or handling raw meat).  I can hear the TV across the house at the volume Dad needs it at.  I think he thinks I am a child again. 

I have learned to answer most of his questions YES/NO.  Explanations beyond that baffle him.   Two thoughts in one sentence is one more than he can follow.  

This is too long a post, but it is not long enough to express all my confusions with Dad...

Here is Dad complaining of being cold.  Wearing shorts and the thinnest possible knit shirt...

I CANNOT get him to wear a long sleeve shirt and long pants! Sometimes he will put on a windbreaker  jacket, which is utterly weird!