Oops, I mentioned that Dad didn't remember to put butter on his potatoes, and it was rightly pointed out that it was a minor matter. I didn't explain well.
I had made shrimp and fish sticks for dinner and made cocktail sauce to go with them. And I provided Dad's daily potato and put out butter. He always puts butter on his potatoes (a family/cultural thing).
The other day, he couldn't remember what he usually puts on his potato! And he has been eating a potato with almost every meal for all his life. He has always put butter on them. (OK, sometimes there was probably gravy). But for the first time I know of, he couldn't connect butter with potatoes. Its just one more thing he is forgetting that I find hard to understand.
I would say that I am learning from Dad's experience what I will be forgetting myself one day, but obviously by that time, I won't be remembering these days myself either.
These posts are only helpful to other elderly caretakers, I suppose...
Dad has worse memory failures than butter on potatoes. He doesn't recall the daughter who died in 2010, he recall recall the least detail of the house he lived in before he moved in with me (and even that he just sold it 2 weeks ago - he seems to think he sold a rental condo in NH). He became annoyed at a tax bill from NH because "I never lived there" (he lived there for 25 years).
Sometimes he thinks he has lived with me for "may years" and sometimes he thinks "about a month". In practical terms, it doesn't really matter where he thinks he has lived before, but it does make it difficult getting him to pay bills and taxes regarding places he doesn't remember.
And something else I really need to explain for those of you who are just beginning to take care of an elder parent(s); they can remember things in detail one day and have no recollection of the same things the day after. Dad can describe his previous house in FL one day right down to the color of the carpets, and not remember ever living there the next day or week or sometimes in the same day.
Don't let it get you down when that happens. I am still struggling with that, but I AM learning.
Your elder parent has the memories of the hour or day FOR the hour or the day, and there isn't anything you or they can do to change it. (I keep reminding myself of that, I keep reminding myself of that, I keep reminding myself of that...) Doesn't help, I keep forgetting and expecting consistent memory or non-memory.
The fluctuations in memory are going to be what drives you the craziest. You never know what to expect for day, one hour, to another. It is for me at least.
Dad is also failing physically rather fast. A few months ago, he could walk in straight lines. A few weeks ago, he could walk in straight lines with a cane, but had trouble turning in any direction. Now it can take him 10 minutes to walk from the TV chair to the bathroom.
There are lots of turns involved, and he tends to freeze in place then. And he tends to freeze in place under doorless doorways. I don't mean there are doors involved, just that opening between rooms baffle him because there is some choice to be made as to where to go.
Any technology baffles him. The "elder-friendly" remote control doesn't help much. There are still too many choices. I am going to cover most of the buttons with opaque tape and see if that helps. That's a clue, "simplify everything". It won't help completely. Couple weeks ago, Dad was flicking light switches trying to get the drapes to close...
Your elder will eat less as time goes on, but get confused about whether he/she is gaining or losing weight. Dad equates tight waists on his pants with "eating too much", but he is eating less these days. And some random days he decides he is not eating enough and so needs ice cream. Hey, if Dad wants ice cream after dinner, that's fine with me. I always keep some available. But the confusion is that it has nothing to do with his weight.
Relations with older relatives will also be confusing. Dad says he calls one SIL (LOL! I had to stop and think of the term for the relation between Dad and one of my aunts) almost every week for the past months. I know he he hasn't because he can't figure out my phone. Yet even when I mention that, he remains convinced he calls her every week. He doesn't, because he CAN'T. So tomorrow, I will help him call her and HOPE that he makes some sense in the conversation. I MIGHT listen in with the aunt's permission.
Enough for today...
Showing posts with label Dad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dad. Show all posts
Friday, December 14, 2012
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Food Toppings and Hand Washing
Dad constantly surprises me these days. Mainly about things that I never thought anyone could get confused about.
Like butter... Dad's memory is weak about recent events but reasonably good about longer-ago events. Dad loves potatoes, and has been putting butter on them all his life. Until tonight, when he forgot (for the first time I am aware of).
I made shrimp and fishsticks, potatoes, green beans, and a salad. So I had cocktail and tarter sauce out long with the butter. For the past couple of months, he has asked me which of the sauces go with the fishsticks vs the shrimp, and I always tell him that either sauce if fine with either meat, just personal preference. I've gotten used to that question being asked every time.
But he couldn't figure out what he put on his potatoes? That is probably the most basic thing he has ever forgotten, because it goes so far back into his past. He remembered he wanted it on bread...
I'm glad his body is working better than his mind these days. Answering questions about what to put on potatoes is a lot easier than having to help with personal hygiene.
Hygiene is probably the next problem, though. I didn't hear sink water running the last time he used the bathroom. I think I won't be sharing bowls of chips or nuts in the future. Seriously, I know he washes his hands sometimes, but I think he is forgetting more often.
I'm not in the habit of doing this degree of monitoring an adult's personal practices. I can make meals, do laundry, give him his pills, arrange haircuts, write his bill checks for him to sign, arrange taxes, house sale, get him to a dentist or doctor, buy things he needs, etc, etc, etc.
But I can't do the more personal stuff...
Like butter... Dad's memory is weak about recent events but reasonably good about longer-ago events. Dad loves potatoes, and has been putting butter on them all his life. Until tonight, when he forgot (for the first time I am aware of).
I made shrimp and fishsticks, potatoes, green beans, and a salad. So I had cocktail and tarter sauce out long with the butter. For the past couple of months, he has asked me which of the sauces go with the fishsticks vs the shrimp, and I always tell him that either sauce if fine with either meat, just personal preference. I've gotten used to that question being asked every time.
But he couldn't figure out what he put on his potatoes? That is probably the most basic thing he has ever forgotten, because it goes so far back into his past. He remembered he wanted it on bread...
I'm glad his body is working better than his mind these days. Answering questions about what to put on potatoes is a lot easier than having to help with personal hygiene.
Hygiene is probably the next problem, though. I didn't hear sink water running the last time he used the bathroom. I think I won't be sharing bowls of chips or nuts in the future. Seriously, I know he washes his hands sometimes, but I think he is forgetting more often.
I'm not in the habit of doing this degree of monitoring an adult's personal practices. I can make meals, do laundry, give him his pills, arrange haircuts, write his bill checks for him to sign, arrange taxes, house sale, get him to a dentist or doctor, buy things he needs, etc, etc, etc.
But I can't do the more personal stuff...
Friday, November 23, 2012
Turkeyless Thanksgiving Day, Sorta...
I bought a turkey today...
Dad and I were invited to have Thanksgiving Dinner at my sister's. I don't usually make a big deal out of holidays. Having lived alone for many years, I find they start to seem a bit pointless. But I do usually visit my sister on Thanksgiving every few years. In fact I probably like Thanksgiving most of all the holidays. When I was a younger adult, I enjoyed making a holiday dinner for my bachelor friends. New Year and Fourth of July are good ones for me, too.
So when my sister invited Dad and me this year, I thought it would be a good idea. I don't LIKE driving, especially on holidays, but Dad seemed interested and my sister thought it would be nice for the younger generation to see Dad (since he had been down in FL for 4 years).
But Dad's decisions are always temporary. A few days beforehand, I mentioned the trip again. That's usually the best way to keep him "on board". The trip suddenly seemed like a LOT to him. He asked what state she was in and what day we would have to leave. I explained it was only a 2 hour drive there and 2 hours back. He decided that was too much car time and decided not to go.
He may have been concerned about the "car time", which can be annoying in holiday traffic. He may have been concerned about a busy house with lots of noise and commotion. He may just have not wanted to leave the house (he hardly walks even a step outside much anymore).
So I expressed our regrets to my sister (his daughter of course, but that sounds oddly circular).
But it also meant no turkey on Thanksgiving Day. I would have needed to find a fresh turkey the day before Thanksgiving and I've gone grocery shopping that day before and try to avoid it. Fortunately, I had some Filet Mignon in the freezer, asparagus, and corn on the cob, so we did have a relatively "fancy" meal.
Which also leads to being happy to go grocery shopping today. I always figure that the day after Thanksgiving HAS to be about the slowest grocery store day of the year. And it was at the regular store. I never saw so many shopping carts available before, LOL!
I also bought a turkey. 88 cents per pound! Can anything be less in demand the day after Thanksgiving? Well, maybe champagne on Jan 2nd... But the turkey is frozen, so it will be a few days to thaw out. I'll do the basics. Mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing... Dad doesn't eat much at a time these days, so I can't go "whole hog" on it. But he will probably remember it as "Thanksgiving Dinner" for a few weeks.
The sad part is that after we had our steak dinner Thanksgiving Day evening, after we watched the parades on TV, after we watched a traditional football game, Dad asked me when Thanksgiving Day was going to be. I froze for a few seconds trying to think of what to say. I finally said "In just a few days, and I'll make your favorite stuff".
So, that's why I bought a turkey today...
Dad and I were invited to have Thanksgiving Dinner at my sister's. I don't usually make a big deal out of holidays. Having lived alone for many years, I find they start to seem a bit pointless. But I do usually visit my sister on Thanksgiving every few years. In fact I probably like Thanksgiving most of all the holidays. When I was a younger adult, I enjoyed making a holiday dinner for my bachelor friends. New Year and Fourth of July are good ones for me, too.
So when my sister invited Dad and me this year, I thought it would be a good idea. I don't LIKE driving, especially on holidays, but Dad seemed interested and my sister thought it would be nice for the younger generation to see Dad (since he had been down in FL for 4 years).
But Dad's decisions are always temporary. A few days beforehand, I mentioned the trip again. That's usually the best way to keep him "on board". The trip suddenly seemed like a LOT to him. He asked what state she was in and what day we would have to leave. I explained it was only a 2 hour drive there and 2 hours back. He decided that was too much car time and decided not to go.
He may have been concerned about the "car time", which can be annoying in holiday traffic. He may have been concerned about a busy house with lots of noise and commotion. He may just have not wanted to leave the house (he hardly walks even a step outside much anymore).
So I expressed our regrets to my sister (his daughter of course, but that sounds oddly circular).
But it also meant no turkey on Thanksgiving Day. I would have needed to find a fresh turkey the day before Thanksgiving and I've gone grocery shopping that day before and try to avoid it. Fortunately, I had some Filet Mignon in the freezer, asparagus, and corn on the cob, so we did have a relatively "fancy" meal.
Which also leads to being happy to go grocery shopping today. I always figure that the day after Thanksgiving HAS to be about the slowest grocery store day of the year. And it was at the regular store. I never saw so many shopping carts available before, LOL!
I also bought a turkey. 88 cents per pound! Can anything be less in demand the day after Thanksgiving? Well, maybe champagne on Jan 2nd... But the turkey is frozen, so it will be a few days to thaw out. I'll do the basics. Mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing... Dad doesn't eat much at a time these days, so I can't go "whole hog" on it. But he will probably remember it as "Thanksgiving Dinner" for a few weeks.
The sad part is that after we had our steak dinner Thanksgiving Day evening, after we watched the parades on TV, after we watched a traditional football game, Dad asked me when Thanksgiving Day was going to be. I froze for a few seconds trying to think of what to say. I finally said "In just a few days, and I'll make your favorite stuff".
So, that's why I bought a turkey today...
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Having to Smile Sadly When...
Dad...
1. Asks who is knocking at the door when I tap bowls into the trash.
2. Sees groundhogs outside where there are only piles of leaves.
3. Suddenly walks all around the house looking for me and forgets there is a basement.
4. Watches me making lunch (where I routinely make a large sandwich and cut it in a half for each of us) and asks (in seriousness) if one half is for him.
5. Shuffles in tiny tiny little foot movements, freezing in place a minute at a time, and thinks he is "w alking normally".
6. Needs to listen to the TV at volume 20, when 15 is normal, and then assumes that I can't hear it because his "hearing is excellent".
7. Thinks that walking to the bathroom and back is "good exercize".
8. Asks about the "explosion" when I drop a knife on the countertop. Yes that contradicts #6...
9. Asks for a calendar so he can tell what day of the week it is (think about that for a few minutes)...
10. Tells a cat to get off his chair and gets annoyed when they can't understand his words.
11. Doesn't undersand why not taking a shower once a month is a problem because "he doesn't do any work".
12. Believes in everything Fox News says because "they are the most-watch news show".
13. Worries hours about medicare statements that say "THIS IS NOT A BILL", because it might be a bill.
14. Asks how to open the drapes every afternoon this week, after I've shown him how to open them every day this week.
15. Can't use the very simplified TV remote I bought "specially for old folks" to change the volume. "Yes Dad, its that button labeled "volume".
16. Can't turn ON the TV with the simplified remote. I wrote on an index card for him. "Press PWR Button and wait until picture appears". He can't do that.
17. Flips deck light switch on and off rapidly hoping to get the drapes to open or close.
18. Calls all the cats "he" and "dogs".
19. Refuses to go to bed until I do. No "me" time. Sometimes I can pretend to go to bed then get on the computer if I am REAL quiet. I close the room door, open the window, and let in some wonderfully cool air...
20. HAS to have corn AND potato, AND bread with every meal. All those starches! But it probably doesn't make any difference at his age.
1. Asks who is knocking at the door when I tap bowls into the trash.
2. Sees groundhogs outside where there are only piles of leaves.
3. Suddenly walks all around the house looking for me and forgets there is a basement.
4. Watches me making lunch (where I routinely make a large sandwich and cut it in a half for each of us) and asks (in seriousness) if one half is for him.
5. Shuffles in tiny tiny little foot movements, freezing in place a minute at a time, and thinks he is "w alking normally".
6. Needs to listen to the TV at volume 20, when 15 is normal, and then assumes that I can't hear it because his "hearing is excellent".
7. Thinks that walking to the bathroom and back is "good exercize".
8. Asks about the "explosion" when I drop a knife on the countertop. Yes that contradicts #6...
9. Asks for a calendar so he can tell what day of the week it is (think about that for a few minutes)...
10. Tells a cat to get off his chair and gets annoyed when they can't understand his words.
11. Doesn't undersand why not taking a shower once a month is a problem because "he doesn't do any work".
12. Believes in everything Fox News says because "they are the most-watch news show".
13. Worries hours about medicare statements that say "THIS IS NOT A BILL", because it might be a bill.
14. Asks how to open the drapes every afternoon this week, after I've shown him how to open them every day this week.
15. Can't use the very simplified TV remote I bought "specially for old folks" to change the volume. "Yes Dad, its that button labeled "volume".
16. Can't turn ON the TV with the simplified remote. I wrote on an index card for him. "Press PWR Button and wait until picture appears". He can't do that.
17. Flips deck light switch on and off rapidly hoping to get the drapes to open or close.
18. Calls all the cats "he" and "dogs".
19. Refuses to go to bed until I do. No "me" time. Sometimes I can pretend to go to bed then get on the computer if I am REAL quiet. I close the room door, open the window, and let in some wonderfully cool air...
20. HAS to have corn AND potato, AND bread with every meal. All those starches! But it probably doesn't make any difference at his age.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
You Can't Fall Off The Floor
But Dad can now fall out of bed. Happened last night for the first time. I was just sitting here typing at 4 am (I take free time when I can find it and I wasn't tired) and there came a THUMP from Dad's bedroom. I ran straight over, to find him on hands and knees on the floor.
Its awkward trying to get Dad up. I'm not trained at it. I could just lift him up brute force, but that's not what he needs...
I learn gradually (maybe as slow as a giant tortise walks). He wants help to let himself get himself up onto the bed again. Pride matters. But he knows what he needs to do better than I do, and that matters too. He says he gets cramps when I lift him myself, for example.
I can't tell what he feels when I try to lift him. If he says lifting him my way causes muscle cramps, I have to believe him.
Are there classes I can attend for this stuff? He weighs more than I do. I know emergency techniques. I could get him upon my back and carry him out of the house if needed even if it hurt him. But him as dead-weight on the floor, non-emergency, baffles me.
I am sure I am doing all this elder care stuff wrong. I thought common sense would get me through these stages. I THOUGHT I was smart enough (and able enough) to know what to do when the falling-down stages happened. Apparently, I'm not.
And I should have known. Years ago, a friend did that cartoonish unbelievably stupid "foot on the boat and foot on the dock while the boat moved away thing". Yes, he fell in the water. But I could NOT get him onto the pier again. He was just too heavy. OK, if it had been ME, I would have just heaved myself up on the dock and never mind that it wouldn't have happened to me in the first place. But I'm not a total klutz like my friend.
Dad is now officially a klutz. Its not his fault, he can't help being old. But he is and I have to deal with that now.
The point is that Dad was dead weight and I couldn't begin to lift him without cramps on his part. You don't realize what lifting dead weight is until you fail at it...
Its awkward trying to get Dad up. I'm not trained at it. I could just lift him up brute force, but that's not what he needs...
I learn gradually (maybe as slow as a giant tortise walks). He wants help to let himself get himself up onto the bed again. Pride matters. But he knows what he needs to do better than I do, and that matters too. He says he gets cramps when I lift him myself, for example.
I can't tell what he feels when I try to lift him. If he says lifting him my way causes muscle cramps, I have to believe him.
Are there classes I can attend for this stuff? He weighs more than I do. I know emergency techniques. I could get him upon my back and carry him out of the house if needed even if it hurt him. But him as dead-weight on the floor, non-emergency, baffles me.
I am sure I am doing all this elder care stuff wrong. I thought common sense would get me through these stages. I THOUGHT I was smart enough (and able enough) to know what to do when the falling-down stages happened. Apparently, I'm not.
And I should have known. Years ago, a friend did that cartoonish unbelievably stupid "foot on the boat and foot on the dock while the boat moved away thing". Yes, he fell in the water. But I could NOT get him onto the pier again. He was just too heavy. OK, if it had been ME, I would have just heaved myself up on the dock and never mind that it wouldn't have happened to me in the first place. But I'm not a total klutz like my friend.
Dad is now officially a klutz. Its not his fault, he can't help being old. But he is and I have to deal with that now.
The point is that Dad was dead weight and I couldn't begin to lift him without cramps on his part. You don't realize what lifting dead weight is until you fail at it...
Thursday, November 1, 2012
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...
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...
Monday, October 29, 2012
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...
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...
Saturday, October 27, 2012
More Dad
Yesterday it was "acorns". We have a huge basket oak over the house and deck. The acorns are falling like hail! Dad asked me what all those "things" were on the deck. When I said "acorns", he said "no, no, I know what acorns look like. Those are something else."
Here we go again...
I assured him that they were acorns, they were falling from an oak tree, and oaks make acorns. "From tiny acorns, mighty oak trees grow", and all that... In return I get "I know what acorns look like and those aren't acorns, and that's not an oak tree."
Well of course they're acorns, and it is an oak tree. I let it go because I don't want to upset him and in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn't matter. But acorns are one of the first seeds children learn to recognize and since elderly people remember older memories better than new ones, it really surprised me. Dad ought to remember acorns. Its like forgetting what grass is, or a bicycle, or a mailbox. Some things just seem so basic.
Today, he raised the issue again and was insistent about it. He kept fussing about them not being acorns and it not being an oak tree. He tends to do this when I'm busy, of course. He can watch TV for a couple hours and be nearly absent, but when something gets at him, he doesn't care what I'm doing.
So I lowered the book on him. Literally. I went out and pulled a leaf off the tree (one branch is in reach of a corner of the deck). I grabbed an intact acorn. I got out my Petersons Tree Guide. I opened it to the white oak page and showed him the picture of the basket oak leaf, the acorn associated with it, the actual leaf from the tree, and the actual acorn from the tree. I showed him that the page said "acorn". He had to allow that "those things" appeared to be acorns and that the leaf seemed to be from the picture I showed him.
I'm not trying to be mean... But there is a deeper issue here. As Dad's memory fades and he loses track of what things are, I need him to trust me on things. If he can't trust me that an acorn is a acorn, what is he thinking when I discuss his finances? Is he secretly thinking that I am stealing his hard-earned money but that just what happens when you are old? When I give him his daily prescribed pill with dinner, is he (or will he soon be) worried that I am poisoning him?
The acorn thing is just symbolic of where things are going.
Here we go again...
I assured him that they were acorns, they were falling from an oak tree, and oaks make acorns. "From tiny acorns, mighty oak trees grow", and all that... In return I get "I know what acorns look like and those aren't acorns, and that's not an oak tree."
Well of course they're acorns, and it is an oak tree. I let it go because I don't want to upset him and in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn't matter. But acorns are one of the first seeds children learn to recognize and since elderly people remember older memories better than new ones, it really surprised me. Dad ought to remember acorns. Its like forgetting what grass is, or a bicycle, or a mailbox. Some things just seem so basic.
Today, he raised the issue again and was insistent about it. He kept fussing about them not being acorns and it not being an oak tree. He tends to do this when I'm busy, of course. He can watch TV for a couple hours and be nearly absent, but when something gets at him, he doesn't care what I'm doing.
So I lowered the book on him. Literally. I went out and pulled a leaf off the tree (one branch is in reach of a corner of the deck). I grabbed an intact acorn. I got out my Petersons Tree Guide. I opened it to the white oak page and showed him the picture of the basket oak leaf, the acorn associated with it, the actual leaf from the tree, and the actual acorn from the tree. I showed him that the page said "acorn". He had to allow that "those things" appeared to be acorns and that the leaf seemed to be from the picture I showed him.
I'm not trying to be mean... But there is a deeper issue here. As Dad's memory fades and he loses track of what things are, I need him to trust me on things. If he can't trust me that an acorn is a acorn, what is he thinking when I discuss his finances? Is he secretly thinking that I am stealing his hard-earned money but that just what happens when you are old? When I give him his daily prescribed pill with dinner, is he (or will he soon be) worried that I am poisoning him?
The acorn thing is just symbolic of where things are going.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Dad and Cat
Dad has always claimed that he doesn't really like cats.
HAH!
I looked out the window today and Dad was on the deck looking out toward the back. Iza was sitting up on the rail right next to him. And Dad reached over to scritch her. Not "scratch", "scritch", he knows how to do it right. But by the time I got the camera, they had separated.
But the special thing was later, after dinner. Dad sat in his usual chair, and had to evict Iza from it to sit down. Iza is getting used to that routine and doesn't complain as much as she used to.
The special part is that she stood up next to him and hopped up!!! First time she has really done that, though she has made a couole of tries before.
This time she curled up on his lap. The pictures show it all. Don't mind the uneven photography; I had to try some different settings to get a few good ones. The point is that Iza curled up on Dad's lap and he enjoyed it, stroking her furs "just right".
He's a natural cat person, even if he WON'T admit it...
Super-special picture!
And Dad seemed thrilled...
And "thank you Iza". You'll get extra treats later...
I switched to non-flash so as not to disturb them.
Maybe my discussions with Dad about the wonderment of having a wild animal happy on your lap have had an affect...
Dad fell asleep stroking Iza!
HAH!
I looked out the window today and Dad was on the deck looking out toward the back. Iza was sitting up on the rail right next to him. And Dad reached over to scritch her. Not "scratch", "scritch", he knows how to do it right. But by the time I got the camera, they had separated.
But the special thing was later, after dinner. Dad sat in his usual chair, and had to evict Iza from it to sit down. Iza is getting used to that routine and doesn't complain as much as she used to.
The special part is that she stood up next to him and hopped up!!! First time she has really done that, though she has made a couole of tries before.
This time she curled up on his lap. The pictures show it all. Don't mind the uneven photography; I had to try some different settings to get a few good ones. The point is that Iza curled up on Dad's lap and he enjoyed it, stroking her furs "just right".
He's a natural cat person, even if he WON'T admit it...
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
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...
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...
Saturday, October 13, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
More Confusions
I brought Dad to Walmart to pick up the prescriptions for high cholesterol and Vitamin D yesterday. The drugs came with papers describing problems. I should have hidden those!
He spent several HOURS reading them over and over.
The basic instructions were VERY simple. Take ONE provostatin pill daily. Take ONE Vit D pill weekly. Not 2 daily, not 2 weekly. Yet he sat reading the fine print accompanying the pills for HOURS.
The problem seems to be that he has two other meds . He hasn't taken them in the 5 months he's been here, but NOW, he wants to take them. On the advice of a DR he hasn't seen in 2 years. And for problems the new DR doesn't see...
I should steal the old pills, right?
Actually, I need to call the new DR and ask about the old pills.
But I need to set up a scheduke for the new pills. No way Dad will remember to take that weekly pill. And there are other things that need to be done. Weekly showers, daily water drinks.
So have an idea. Weekly pill and weekly shower - Friday night. Daily pill at lunch with a full glass of water.
And he chose a cane. Walmart had 2 basic canes in the store. There are many better ones online and I found a place that had many to choose from locally . He refused to visit the "many cane" place.
On the other hand, the one he chose is good enough. He walks better already (when he uses it). Getting him to keep the cane around is hard.
He fell 3 times this week without the cane. He didn't with it. But he doesn't want to use it.
That drives me nuts.
He spent several HOURS reading them over and over.
The basic instructions were VERY simple. Take ONE provostatin pill daily. Take ONE Vit D pill weekly. Not 2 daily, not 2 weekly. Yet he sat reading the fine print accompanying the pills for HOURS.
The problem seems to be that he has two other meds . He hasn't taken them in the 5 months he's been here, but NOW, he wants to take them. On the advice of a DR he hasn't seen in 2 years. And for problems the new DR doesn't see...
I should steal the old pills, right?
Actually, I need to call the new DR and ask about the old pills.
But I need to set up a scheduke for the new pills. No way Dad will remember to take that weekly pill. And there are other things that need to be done. Weekly showers, daily water drinks.
So have an idea. Weekly pill and weekly shower - Friday night. Daily pill at lunch with a full glass of water.
And he chose a cane. Walmart had 2 basic canes in the store. There are many better ones online and I found a place that had many to choose from locally . He refused to visit the "many cane" place.
On the other hand, the one he chose is good enough. He walks better already (when he uses it). Getting him to keep the cane around is hard.
He fell 3 times this week without the cane. He didn't with it. But he doesn't want to use it.
That drives me nuts.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
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!
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...
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Dad
Dad:
I mentioned last time that "Dad is losing his mind first (though physical incompetence is catching up rapidly)." Dad thinks his biggest problems are that he can't get his feet to move easily, that he forgets individual words, and that he doesn't get much sleep.
If only he knew... He can't move his feet because his weight is planted firmly on both of them. He can't do the "shift weight to one foot, fall forward slightly, and swing the unweighted foot forward" that is walking. When I suggest a cane, he refuses saying it wouldn't help. When I suggest he just try a simple piece of closet pole (no cost involved) as a quick test, he refuses. He has two walkers; one a 4 wheel type that can be a simple pushable wheelchair, the other a dedicated walker with 2 wheels in front for pushing. He looks at thos every couple dsys, but will not try them out.
I understand why. In the immediate sense, using them is the final surrender to old age. In an indirect sense, Mom used a walker, then went to assisted living, then died. Using a walker would be an acceptance of the sequence.
It sure makes life awkward though. He is SO slow moving through the house without support! Fortunately, the living area of the house has a circular design, so I can always go around him by walking through the other rooms. Its usually much faster.
I don't want these posts about Dad's problems to seem like criticism or humor. Yes, I sometimes fail to understand how he can think or do something so obviously non-sensical, and yes, I often make light of some really difficult conversations or actions. Frustration slips in between the lines sometimes. I'm doing this partly as a record of events, and partly so that others may see these things developing with their own elderly parents and understand its not unique. There are patterns...
The latest...
1. Dad has been either putting used food dishes in the sink or washing them and puting them in the dishwasher for months. Today, he suddenly asked where to put ihis used coffee cup because the dishwasher was running. I said "in the sink". In the sink was a small tupperware container with a few small cat food bowls soaking in soapy water. He said the sink was "full". When I said there was plenty of room in the sink, he tried to push the coffee cup into the full tupperware container. Seeing his confusion, I said to just put the coffee cup next the the container and I would take care of it.
2. Sometimes before Noon, Dad will ask if I plan to make lunch that day. Not that I've ever not made him lunch. But lately, the conversation goes either of two directions.
A. Version one, when I present him with his sandwich and pickle/chips/carrotsticks/etc, he asks if I have made one for myself too. Its an odd question because I make one large sandwich (my bread loaves are large) and cut it in half for each of us. If there is one half a sandwich, there must be a 2nd half.
B. Version two, when he sees me making our lunch sandwich, he asks "are you making one for me too"? Again, 4 months, and I have never failed to make his sandwich. Now, that could be an attempt at humor. But humor has certain inflections and facial expressions designed to clue us in on a joke. He looks slightly woried, so its not that. He's actually worried I won't feed him.
3. The yellow box on the toolshed... Dad is constantly asking me weird questions about things he thinks he sees outside. Today, he asked what "that yellow box on the side of the toolshed was". He described where it was by referencing parts of the shed and giving directions from those. I can usually figure out what he is looking at. Never mind that IF there was a yellow box attached to the toolshed (150' away) , I would surely know about it... If a sparrow fell on the roof, I would notice. I can see when there is a hummingbird at the feeder on the toolshed. There was no yellow box on the toolshed. None. At all.
4. Dishwasher... If you or I were visiting a friend and added dinner plates to the dishwasher helping to clean up, we would notice the the host placed plates in one area, bowls in another, glasses in another, etc. Dad can't see patterns anymore. He puts stuff in the dishwasher anywhere (when he tries) randomly. I don't mind that much, but when he catches me rearranging things, he acts disrespected. He nests spoons together, too (dangerous). My point is that he can't detect patterns or organizations, and he was an engineer. Among the many abilities he has lost, his sense of logical organization may be the saddest.
5. Did you notice details in the picture of Dad outside at the top? He complains about being cold in the house, wearing shorts and a thin golf shirt. I keep the house at 74F (too warm for me too cold to him). But I have learned to wear shorts and light shirts to adjust as best I can (my perfect temperature is 70). Notice that ir was 82F outside. Dad put on a sweater to go outside in warmer temperature! When he came back inside, he took the sweater OFF and complained about being cold again.
You know, he used to live in NH. He knows how to dress for the cold. He just WON'T anymore. I bought 3 nice light long sleeved shirts today. Technically, they are for me. But maybe I can get Dad to try wearing them.
I can't believe its only been 4 months, it seems like Dad has been here a year...
I mentioned last time that "Dad is losing his mind first (though physical incompetence is catching up rapidly)." Dad thinks his biggest problems are that he can't get his feet to move easily, that he forgets individual words, and that he doesn't get much sleep.
If only he knew... He can't move his feet because his weight is planted firmly on both of them. He can't do the "shift weight to one foot, fall forward slightly, and swing the unweighted foot forward" that is walking. When I suggest a cane, he refuses saying it wouldn't help. When I suggest he just try a simple piece of closet pole (no cost involved) as a quick test, he refuses. He has two walkers; one a 4 wheel type that can be a simple pushable wheelchair, the other a dedicated walker with 2 wheels in front for pushing. He looks at thos every couple dsys, but will not try them out.
I understand why. In the immediate sense, using them is the final surrender to old age. In an indirect sense, Mom used a walker, then went to assisted living, then died. Using a walker would be an acceptance of the sequence.
It sure makes life awkward though. He is SO slow moving through the house without support! Fortunately, the living area of the house has a circular design, so I can always go around him by walking through the other rooms. Its usually much faster.
I don't want these posts about Dad's problems to seem like criticism or humor. Yes, I sometimes fail to understand how he can think or do something so obviously non-sensical, and yes, I often make light of some really difficult conversations or actions. Frustration slips in between the lines sometimes. I'm doing this partly as a record of events, and partly so that others may see these things developing with their own elderly parents and understand its not unique. There are patterns...
The latest...
1. Dad has been either putting used food dishes in the sink or washing them and puting them in the dishwasher for months. Today, he suddenly asked where to put ihis used coffee cup because the dishwasher was running. I said "in the sink". In the sink was a small tupperware container with a few small cat food bowls soaking in soapy water. He said the sink was "full". When I said there was plenty of room in the sink, he tried to push the coffee cup into the full tupperware container. Seeing his confusion, I said to just put the coffee cup next the the container and I would take care of it.
2. Sometimes before Noon, Dad will ask if I plan to make lunch that day. Not that I've ever not made him lunch. But lately, the conversation goes either of two directions.
A. Version one, when I present him with his sandwich and pickle/chips/carrotsticks/etc, he asks if I have made one for myself too. Its an odd question because I make one large sandwich (my bread loaves are large) and cut it in half for each of us. If there is one half a sandwich, there must be a 2nd half.
B. Version two, when he sees me making our lunch sandwich, he asks "are you making one for me too"? Again, 4 months, and I have never failed to make his sandwich. Now, that could be an attempt at humor. But humor has certain inflections and facial expressions designed to clue us in on a joke. He looks slightly woried, so its not that. He's actually worried I won't feed him.
3. The yellow box on the toolshed... Dad is constantly asking me weird questions about things he thinks he sees outside. Today, he asked what "that yellow box on the side of the toolshed was". He described where it was by referencing parts of the shed and giving directions from those. I can usually figure out what he is looking at. Never mind that IF there was a yellow box attached to the toolshed (150' away) , I would surely know about it... If a sparrow fell on the roof, I would notice. I can see when there is a hummingbird at the feeder on the toolshed. There was no yellow box on the toolshed. None. At all.
4. Dishwasher... If you or I were visiting a friend and added dinner plates to the dishwasher helping to clean up, we would notice the the host placed plates in one area, bowls in another, glasses in another, etc. Dad can't see patterns anymore. He puts stuff in the dishwasher anywhere (when he tries) randomly. I don't mind that much, but when he catches me rearranging things, he acts disrespected. He nests spoons together, too (dangerous). My point is that he can't detect patterns or organizations, and he was an engineer. Among the many abilities he has lost, his sense of logical organization may be the saddest.
5. Did you notice details in the picture of Dad outside at the top? He complains about being cold in the house, wearing shorts and a thin golf shirt. I keep the house at 74F (too warm for me too cold to him). But I have learned to wear shorts and light shirts to adjust as best I can (my perfect temperature is 70). Notice that ir was 82F outside. Dad put on a sweater to go outside in warmer temperature! When he came back inside, he took the sweater OFF and complained about being cold again.
You know, he used to live in NH. He knows how to dress for the cold. He just WON'T anymore. I bought 3 nice light long sleeved shirts today. Technically, they are for me. But maybe I can get Dad to try wearing them.
I can't believe its only been 4 months, it seems like Dad has been here a year...
Friday, September 14, 2012
Dementia?
I thought I knew what dementia meant. I thought it was about forgetting things. I thought if someone had it REAL bad they tended to wander away or forget who you were and that was Alzheimer's.
Well I was wrong. I didn't realize the degree of unreasonable self-orientation involved in dementia!
I've gotten used to Dad breaking in with a trivial question involving past or future events while I am trying to get dinner on the table. I am used to him bugging me about having lunch ready promptly at noon and dinner at 6 pm. He was ALWAYS fussy about schedules.
I am used to him complaining unsensibly. If the TV shows a poor news video, he complains that my (Big Screen HD Plasma 1080) TV is poor quality. If there isn't anything he wants to watch, he complains I have a poor cable system (1,000 and "57 channels and nothings on"...). The sink water doesn't get hot immediately.
My favorite last week was that he needed a calendar because he couldn't tell what day it was. He couldn't figure out why looking at a calendar wouldn't tell him what day it was.
But today was a new low. I don't mean that he said he had another family for a decade or that I wasn't his son. Not THAT level.
But... I have people here putting new siding on the house. Its noisy work, and they have a job to do. Dad is normally happy watching Fox News and listening to the talking heads. I've been mostly staying outside watching them work (its fascinating), and I make sure to ask Dad how things are going every hour or so.
Well, apparently Fox News was replaying a speech by Paul Ryan and all the hammering annoyed him. When I came in, Dad was ANGRY. "They should have stopped all the hammering during his speaking (sic), out of respect"!
Me: "What?!?
Dad: "They should have stopped when someone important was speaking"!
Me: "Dad, they have a job to do. They have a schedule".
Dad: "It was disrespectful"!
Me: "Dad, you're being unreasonable. They didn't know someone was speaking and they wouldn't stop working if they did. I don't care if a politician is speaking. Most of the world wouldn't care. People have to keep doing their jobs.
Dad: "YOU'RE NOT UNDERSTANDING ME! THIS WAS IMPORTANT"!
US: (Some repetitive back-and-forth angry/calming words)
Me: "Dad, please sit down, watch your political TV. I'm busy!" (leaves house)
I was completely surprised by the whole event. I accept the daily forgetfulness, I accept his confusion about bills, etc (and I can deal with that); but I hadn't seen the irrationality involving a real-time event on such a personal level before. And it wasn't at sundown...
Mom became physically unable while still mentally competent. Dad is losing his mind first (though physical incompetence is catching up rapidly).
More about all that next time.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Dadisms
Salad dressing is "paste".
The cats are "dogs" and they (2 female 1 male) are all "he".
Paper clips are "safety pins". Or do I have that backwards? He wanted safety pins for his pajamas and saw paper clips, thinking they were safety pins.
Any pile of brown leaves in the back yard is a "groundhog".
The paperclip/safetypin one was the strangest this week. He came out looking for safety pins. He said he had seen 2 on the dining room table. For those of you with organized rooms and lifestyles, I should mention that our "dining table" is only partially for eating at. Its also our general desk for bills and newspapers, etc. So after Dad fussed around with his bills and seemed to be trying to attach them together, it occurred to me that Dad might actually be looking for paperclips, of which there ARE 2 on the table, but hidden behind the napkins.
So I picked them up and showed them, asking if these were what he was looking for. He said "yes" so I dropped the matter. For a minute...
He WAS actually looking for safety pins, and thought the paperclips WERE safety pins. 5 minutes of awkward discussion followed. Wherein I finally learned that he really DID want 2 safety pins for his pajamas, and he was convinced that the 2 paperclips I showed him were what he needed. I'm used to him getting the wrong word for things, but not the wrong actual object!
The low point of the discussion was DAD: "I've been alive a lot longer than you, and I know what a safety pin is (looking at the paperclips)!
OOO-KAY... He finally mentioned there were safety pins on the pajamas in his hamper. So I got them and he went off and did whatever he wanted the safety pins for (I haven't asked - YET).
Thats when I noticed his toenails are all about an inch long... I hadn't seen him barefoot. Got to do something about that, since I guess he can't reach his feet anymore. I don't mind clipping them for him, but you would think he would have mentioned it before. Or not. I'm still learning to be a caretaker.
Its all quite confusing. Every day is a new learning experience. In one way, that's good for me; new challenges are good for the mind. Clipping Dad's toenails might not be quite the mental experience I would choose. But what needs to be done WILL be done...
Well, some day I may have to help him wash in the tub or even wipe his butt. I can wait... Computer games are a sufficient mind challenge for now. But it seems I'll be getting different challenges than I expected soon.
The cats are "dogs" and they (2 female 1 male) are all "he".
Paper clips are "safety pins". Or do I have that backwards? He wanted safety pins for his pajamas and saw paper clips, thinking they were safety pins.
Any pile of brown leaves in the back yard is a "groundhog".
The paperclip/safetypin one was the strangest this week. He came out looking for safety pins. He said he had seen 2 on the dining room table. For those of you with organized rooms and lifestyles, I should mention that our "dining table" is only partially for eating at. Its also our general desk for bills and newspapers, etc. So after Dad fussed around with his bills and seemed to be trying to attach them together, it occurred to me that Dad might actually be looking for paperclips, of which there ARE 2 on the table, but hidden behind the napkins.
So I picked them up and showed them, asking if these were what he was looking for. He said "yes" so I dropped the matter. For a minute...
He WAS actually looking for safety pins, and thought the paperclips WERE safety pins. 5 minutes of awkward discussion followed. Wherein I finally learned that he really DID want 2 safety pins for his pajamas, and he was convinced that the 2 paperclips I showed him were what he needed. I'm used to him getting the wrong word for things, but not the wrong actual object!
The low point of the discussion was DAD: "I've been alive a lot longer than you, and I know what a safety pin is (looking at the paperclips)!
OOO-KAY... He finally mentioned there were safety pins on the pajamas in his hamper. So I got them and he went off and did whatever he wanted the safety pins for (I haven't asked - YET).
Thats when I noticed his toenails are all about an inch long... I hadn't seen him barefoot. Got to do something about that, since I guess he can't reach his feet anymore. I don't mind clipping them for him, but you would think he would have mentioned it before. Or not. I'm still learning to be a caretaker.
Its all quite confusing. Every day is a new learning experience. In one way, that's good for me; new challenges are good for the mind. Clipping Dad's toenails might not be quite the mental experience I would choose. But what needs to be done WILL be done...
Well, some day I may have to help him wash in the tub or even wipe his butt. I can wait... Computer games are a sufficient mind challenge for now. But it seems I'll be getting different challenges than I expected soon.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Dadisms
I hope it is alright to find some slight humor in the Dadisms I get day-to-day. I don't mean great laughs; sometimes humor is the better alternative to crying.
1. Dad has been seeing the progress of Tropical Storm (possibly to be Hurricane) Isaac down around Cuba via the TV reports. WHILE I was trying to finish cooking dinner (of course, his timing is always wretched), he suddenly had urgent concerns that we should prepare for power outages.
Dad: We need to get ready for power outages.
Mark: Why?
Dad: The Hurricane...
Mark: We are not threatened by a hurricane.
Dad: No, it will be here tonight, we have to get ready.
[Ok, now I could have gone 2 ways here, and I actually did think about it. I could have said, "yes, I will get the candles out and and fill clean bottles with fresh water". But I'm obsessed with reality. So it progressed like this]...
Mark: Dad, the hurricane isn't a hurricane yet, it is about a week away from us if it even comes NEAR us, we won't lose power, and if we DO, the food is good for a day in the freezer, and I will cook the fresh meat on the grill to save it.
Dad: You're not listening to me, the hurricane is coming tonight and the power will be out for days.
Mark: I'm listening to you but you're wrong. 1. The power doesn't go out here because the cables are underground. 2. I've lived here for 26 years and the power has never gone off for more than 2 hours, a one-off equipment failure in non-storm times. 3. The storm is 1500 miles away, 5 days, and IF it comes through here it will only be a day of steady drizzle, which I would VERY much like. 4. If the absolutely bizarre worst happened, I would simply put you in the front seat of the car and the cats (in PTUs) in the car and we would stay a few days out of state on our credit cards...
Dad: But...
Mark: Get out of the kitchen and let me finish cooking dinner! I will deal with the Hurricane problem RIGHT after dinner!!!
Dad is getting more uncertain about where he is living. I suppose he thinks he was in Florida for some of the discussion (but he knows Maryland for other parts). It seems the concept of geographical distance is becoming harder for him to recall. He really thinks the Tropical Storm Isaac is very close to us (in Maryland).
I don't want to ignore his concerns, but when they are non-sensical and I'm trying to get all the parts of dinner cooked at the same time, I just don't HAVE time for his confusions.
2. The groundhog sightings... I caged a groundhog on July 17th and relocated it. Since that time, Dad has claimed to see a groundhog in the back yard every single day. It is always a pile of dead leaves or a dark spot on the shed foundation. Every day, I have to walk outside and point to the spot he is convinced there is a groundhog and show him that there isn't one.
Repeated errors in seeing groundhogs every day doesn't bother him a bit. So when he stated AGAIN that there was a groundhog out back, I hesitated to even look. But he said there was one running around, no doubt this time, I looked. Yes there was.
I set up the live cage, trapped it in an hour and relocated it later.
But here's the thing. He said it was weird to get one just 2 days after the last one. Um, it was 4 weeks ago. Dad insisted it was only 2 days. I showed him the picture from the last time (July 17/18). He said that was the first one this year. Dad wasn't even HERE then.
His time-memory of current events is completely shot. He can't remember simple things one day to the next. I have a really hard time dealing with this. I have a better-than-average memory for events than most people. I have a worse-than-average about "people-things", so I'm not claiming anything special. Meaning, I can remember buying things better than I can who I was talking to when I bought the item. Many people have the opposite memory, and I envy them in that quite often.
But Dad insisted I relocated a groundhog only 2 days before the last one, and it was 4 weeks...
3. Dad gives me instructions befitting a child more and more often these last couple of weeks. I'm not sure how to say he is "reverting to adulthood". Parenthood of a child, I guess... I announced the other night that I was going to bed early because I had stayed up late the night before. He told me to make sure I "used the facilities" before I went to bed. You tell a 5 year old that.
When I make a meal, he sometimes asks "do you have enough for yourself"? Well, considering the fact that I make dinners and divide them with what my grandmother used to call "the miking eye" (meaning micrometer precision) IN HIS PRESENCE, that is always a bit disturbing.
Every single night, we eat dinner and he eats at the table (because it doesn't wobble when he cuts his meat ineptly) and I eat on a TV tray so I can (briefly) watch a science DVD in peace and no "they can't know THAT" comments from Dad. Every meal, toward the END of the meal, he always asks "Do you want more salt or more butter"? Next week, he may be asking me if I need help cutting up my food.
He clearly thinks of me as a child needing help. I wouldn't mind so much if it wasn't for the fact that he has always treated me that way, and I've always been the independent one of the kids... I DO NOT understand this particular oddity on Dad's part.
*SIGH*
1. Dad has been seeing the progress of Tropical Storm (possibly to be Hurricane) Isaac down around Cuba via the TV reports. WHILE I was trying to finish cooking dinner (of course, his timing is always wretched), he suddenly had urgent concerns that we should prepare for power outages.
Dad: We need to get ready for power outages.
Mark: Why?
Dad: The Hurricane...
Mark: We are not threatened by a hurricane.
Dad: No, it will be here tonight, we have to get ready.
[Ok, now I could have gone 2 ways here, and I actually did think about it. I could have said, "yes, I will get the candles out and and fill clean bottles with fresh water". But I'm obsessed with reality. So it progressed like this]...
Mark: Dad, the hurricane isn't a hurricane yet, it is about a week away from us if it even comes NEAR us, we won't lose power, and if we DO, the food is good for a day in the freezer, and I will cook the fresh meat on the grill to save it.
Dad: You're not listening to me, the hurricane is coming tonight and the power will be out for days.
Mark: I'm listening to you but you're wrong. 1. The power doesn't go out here because the cables are underground. 2. I've lived here for 26 years and the power has never gone off for more than 2 hours, a one-off equipment failure in non-storm times. 3. The storm is 1500 miles away, 5 days, and IF it comes through here it will only be a day of steady drizzle, which I would VERY much like. 4. If the absolutely bizarre worst happened, I would simply put you in the front seat of the car and the cats (in PTUs) in the car and we would stay a few days out of state on our credit cards...
Dad: But...
Mark: Get out of the kitchen and let me finish cooking dinner! I will deal with the Hurricane problem RIGHT after dinner!!!
Dad is getting more uncertain about where he is living. I suppose he thinks he was in Florida for some of the discussion (but he knows Maryland for other parts). It seems the concept of geographical distance is becoming harder for him to recall. He really thinks the Tropical Storm Isaac is very close to us (in Maryland).
I don't want to ignore his concerns, but when they are non-sensical and I'm trying to get all the parts of dinner cooked at the same time, I just don't HAVE time for his confusions.
2. The groundhog sightings... I caged a groundhog on July 17th and relocated it. Since that time, Dad has claimed to see a groundhog in the back yard every single day. It is always a pile of dead leaves or a dark spot on the shed foundation. Every day, I have to walk outside and point to the spot he is convinced there is a groundhog and show him that there isn't one.
Repeated errors in seeing groundhogs every day doesn't bother him a bit. So when he stated AGAIN that there was a groundhog out back, I hesitated to even look. But he said there was one running around, no doubt this time, I looked. Yes there was.
I set up the live cage, trapped it in an hour and relocated it later.
But here's the thing. He said it was weird to get one just 2 days after the last one. Um, it was 4 weeks ago. Dad insisted it was only 2 days. I showed him the picture from the last time (July 17/18). He said that was the first one this year. Dad wasn't even HERE then.
His time-memory of current events is completely shot. He can't remember simple things one day to the next. I have a really hard time dealing with this. I have a better-than-average memory for events than most people. I have a worse-than-average about "people-things", so I'm not claiming anything special. Meaning, I can remember buying things better than I can who I was talking to when I bought the item. Many people have the opposite memory, and I envy them in that quite often.
But Dad insisted I relocated a groundhog only 2 days before the last one, and it was 4 weeks...
3. Dad gives me instructions befitting a child more and more often these last couple of weeks. I'm not sure how to say he is "reverting to adulthood". Parenthood of a child, I guess... I announced the other night that I was going to bed early because I had stayed up late the night before. He told me to make sure I "used the facilities" before I went to bed. You tell a 5 year old that.
When I make a meal, he sometimes asks "do you have enough for yourself"? Well, considering the fact that I make dinners and divide them with what my grandmother used to call "the miking eye" (meaning micrometer precision) IN HIS PRESENCE, that is always a bit disturbing.
Every single night, we eat dinner and he eats at the table (because it doesn't wobble when he cuts his meat ineptly) and I eat on a TV tray so I can (briefly) watch a science DVD in peace and no "they can't know THAT" comments from Dad. Every meal, toward the END of the meal, he always asks "Do you want more salt or more butter"? Next week, he may be asking me if I need help cutting up my food.
He clearly thinks of me as a child needing help. I wouldn't mind so much if it wasn't for the fact that he has always treated me that way, and I've always been the independent one of the kids... I DO NOT understand this particular oddity on Dad's part.
*SIGH*
Monday, August 20, 2012
A Day In The Life...
I had a busy day. Now, I'm not trying to compare MY busy to others. I'm retired and until Dad moved in 3 months ago today, I lived alone. So some people are busy 25 hours a day, 8 days a week and I wasn't one of them.
But, for me, it was busy. I got up at 10 am. That would seem luxurious, but it was only 7 hours sleep because I was up late on the computer. The only "me" time I get is after Dad goes to bed at 11:30. So I stay up late a lot more often than I used to. After the usual getting showered and dressed stuff:
1. Fed the cats.
2. Made lunch (fancy sandwiches with crudites, as usual).
3. Read the whole newspaper.
4. Took the newest captured groundhog to a relocation site.
5. Grocery-shopped
6. Farm market-shopped.
7. Let the cats outside for 30 minutes while accompanying them around the yard.
8. Brushed the sticky-seeds out of their fur after coming in.
9. Mixed dough in the bread machine for making dinner rolls.
10. Marinated pork chops in minced fresh garlic/ginger/basil/sage leaves.
11. Pressed down dinner roll dough lightly on silpat to even thickness and allow rising.
12. Started breadloaf in breadmachine.
13. Played with cats 15 minutes.
14. Prepared dinner. Cut tops of green beans, made salad, cooked potato, cooked corn. All fresh. Coated pork chops with home-made "shake&bake".
15. Just as everything is almost cooked, Dad insists he must fill up the salt and pepper shakers which I do not realize yet). Typical confusing conversation ensues: D: Where is the salt and pepper? Me: On the table. D: I can see that! Me: What??? D: I need the salt! Me: (I check the table, there is salt and pepper there), its right there. D: Where is YOUR salt? Me: Its in the grinders, but don't ask me this NOW, I'm cooking.
He likes salt and pepper shakers, I like grinders. His salt and pepper shakers were only 25% full and it distressed him, so he "needed to get then refilled at once". I was busy trying to get everything out of the oven and stovetop pans and he has to worry about that RIGHT THEN?
This is a habit of his I am discovering. He bothers people with time-consuming trivial matters when they are most busy. I guess that is "passive-aggressive". Thinking back, I see that has been a lifelong habit of minor manipulation. When I was a teen, I enjoyed the process of making meals. I used to send time with Mom in the kitchen being useful at small stuff (peeling carrots, chopping lettuce for salads, etc). I recall Dad coming in and asking odd questions even then.
I have always had a fine relationship with both my parents, in their own special ways, but now I have more sympathy for Mom at those times. Of course, each had their own individual ways to annoy too, but I learned to deal with those. But I've got Dad's all day these days...
I ordered him OUT OF THE KITCHEN and told him I would deal with the salt&pepper crisis later. He is not used to that. Well, we are BOTH on a learning curve...
16. We had a fine dinner of baked breaded pork chops, salad, corn on the cob, baked potato (OK, M/V potato, but there's not much difference) and green beans overcooked as he likes them.
17. Cut the risen dinner roll dough into squares and set them in the oven to bake. Recipe says 30 minutes, but they came out hard last time. Made it 25 minutes.
18. Took the bread machine dough out to remove the mixer handle before baking. This really helps. If I take the loaf out with the handle in it, it tears a chunk of bread out of the bottom. More timing effort, but better results.
19. Put the dough back in the breadmachine to finish "loafing". Dad loves my bread (so does everyone). Adding garlic powder, onion powder and a lot of oregano, and using beer in place of water really makes great bread!
Oops, be right back, I just heard the TV go to a color signal, which means that Dad is losing the nightly struggle with the remote control...
OK, I fixed that (again).
20. Took the breadloaf out to cool and started the mixer going for more chocolate chip cookies. Dad has both a sweet tooth and a starch tooth. Cookies, coffeecake, potatoes, bread. He can eat spaghetti with bread and a potato, and cookies for dessert. I suppose that, at his age, it doesn't really matter.
21. Played "toss mousies" with Iza while I ate dinner. She loves that. She attacks them fiercely, and often fetches them back to me.
22. Dad can't stay away from Fox News.
23. Put half the dinner rolls in a plastic food bag on the counter, the other half in a okastic food bag in the freezer.
24. Dad will be wanting a bowl of ice cream soon. I try to get him to eat fresh fruit, but that was never something he got used to.
25. Cleaned the litter boxes.
26. The rest of the night: Visit cat blog friends, make tomorrow's post, email those who have written, listen unhapily to Fox News on the TV from 3 rooms away (Dad is hard of hearing).
27. Just before going to bed, feed the cats.
28. After going to bed, sleep with cats...
Tomorrow, repeat again and again and again...
But, for me, it was busy. I got up at 10 am. That would seem luxurious, but it was only 7 hours sleep because I was up late on the computer. The only "me" time I get is after Dad goes to bed at 11:30. So I stay up late a lot more often than I used to. After the usual getting showered and dressed stuff:
1. Fed the cats.
2. Made lunch (fancy sandwiches with crudites, as usual).
3. Read the whole newspaper.
4. Took the newest captured groundhog to a relocation site.
5. Grocery-shopped
6. Farm market-shopped.
7. Let the cats outside for 30 minutes while accompanying them around the yard.
8. Brushed the sticky-seeds out of their fur after coming in.
9. Mixed dough in the bread machine for making dinner rolls.
10. Marinated pork chops in minced fresh garlic/ginger/basil/sage leaves.
11. Pressed down dinner roll dough lightly on silpat to even thickness and allow rising.
12. Started breadloaf in breadmachine.
13. Played with cats 15 minutes.
14. Prepared dinner. Cut tops of green beans, made salad, cooked potato, cooked corn. All fresh. Coated pork chops with home-made "shake&bake".
15. Just as everything is almost cooked, Dad insists he must fill up the salt and pepper shakers which I do not realize yet). Typical confusing conversation ensues: D: Where is the salt and pepper? Me: On the table. D: I can see that! Me: What??? D: I need the salt! Me: (I check the table, there is salt and pepper there), its right there. D: Where is YOUR salt? Me: Its in the grinders, but don't ask me this NOW, I'm cooking.
He likes salt and pepper shakers, I like grinders. His salt and pepper shakers were only 25% full and it distressed him, so he "needed to get then refilled at once". I was busy trying to get everything out of the oven and stovetop pans and he has to worry about that RIGHT THEN?
This is a habit of his I am discovering. He bothers people with time-consuming trivial matters when they are most busy. I guess that is "passive-aggressive". Thinking back, I see that has been a lifelong habit of minor manipulation. When I was a teen, I enjoyed the process of making meals. I used to send time with Mom in the kitchen being useful at small stuff (peeling carrots, chopping lettuce for salads, etc). I recall Dad coming in and asking odd questions even then.
I have always had a fine relationship with both my parents, in their own special ways, but now I have more sympathy for Mom at those times. Of course, each had their own individual ways to annoy too, but I learned to deal with those. But I've got Dad's all day these days...
I ordered him OUT OF THE KITCHEN and told him I would deal with the salt&pepper crisis later. He is not used to that. Well, we are BOTH on a learning curve...
16. We had a fine dinner of baked breaded pork chops, salad, corn on the cob, baked potato (OK, M/V potato, but there's not much difference) and green beans overcooked as he likes them.
17. Cut the risen dinner roll dough into squares and set them in the oven to bake. Recipe says 30 minutes, but they came out hard last time. Made it 25 minutes.
18. Took the bread machine dough out to remove the mixer handle before baking. This really helps. If I take the loaf out with the handle in it, it tears a chunk of bread out of the bottom. More timing effort, but better results.
19. Put the dough back in the breadmachine to finish "loafing". Dad loves my bread (so does everyone). Adding garlic powder, onion powder and a lot of oregano, and using beer in place of water really makes great bread!
Oops, be right back, I just heard the TV go to a color signal, which means that Dad is losing the nightly struggle with the remote control...
OK, I fixed that (again).
20. Took the breadloaf out to cool and started the mixer going for more chocolate chip cookies. Dad has both a sweet tooth and a starch tooth. Cookies, coffeecake, potatoes, bread. He can eat spaghetti with bread and a potato, and cookies for dessert. I suppose that, at his age, it doesn't really matter.
21. Played "toss mousies" with Iza while I ate dinner. She loves that. She attacks them fiercely, and often fetches them back to me.
22. Dad can't stay away from Fox News.
23. Put half the dinner rolls in a plastic food bag on the counter, the other half in a okastic food bag in the freezer.
24. Dad will be wanting a bowl of ice cream soon. I try to get him to eat fresh fruit, but that was never something he got used to.
25. Cleaned the litter boxes.
26. The rest of the night: Visit cat blog friends, make tomorrow's post, email those who have written, listen unhapily to Fox News on the TV from 3 rooms away (Dad is hard of hearing).
27. Just before going to bed, feed the cats.
28. After going to bed, sleep with cats...
Tomorrow, repeat again and again and again...
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Living With Dad, 14
First, my thanks to all who offerred suggestions on good elder-friendly TV/Cable remote control devices. I ordered one I found through Amazon and it arrived today. I haven't tried it out yet because it needs 4 AAA baterries and I need to buy more recharageable ones (rechargeable batteries are the way to go these days). But everytime I think I have "too many", I get another device and need more. I've looked at the control, and it has nice big buttons without too many of them, so I think it may serve well (if it works as advertised). But now that I have your good list of suggestions, I may get a 2nd one. I like Verizon FiOS cable/internet/phone service, but their remote controls even frustrate ME. I wish Verizon would use the same remote control that Comcast used - it never gave me any trouble. I don't need a remote with bigger buttons for myself (yet) but I need one that actually registers the buttons I push firmly and at a normal speed. So I will get a 2nd from the list of suggestions.
Second, I'm concerned by changes in Dad's preferences and understandings. 10 weeks ago, Dad liked the way I steamed vegetables. "Cooked, but still firm". Now, suddenly, he wants them soft. He used to like to tell how a former-co-worker-turned-chinese-restaurant-owner said the secret of veggies was to "cook until crisp". Now they must be soft enough to separate with the edge of a fork. He can still use a knife well enough. It occurs to me that that is the way his mother cooked vegetables...
I considered dental problems. Dad had a twinge from a tooth infection when he first came here. The dentist couldn't decide between 2 teeth, so he prescribed anti-biotics, then a root canal operation on the infected tooth ("because the infection will return"). The estimate was $950, and Dad is miserly. So he might be hiding a tooth problem. But he happily eats the raw carrots and celery I give him with his lunch sandwich. So I think it isn't the "raw veggie" that is bothering him. It has to be some sudden preference change. Do old folks change that fast?
I've mentioned before that Dad likes to watch Fox News all day. He asked today why I won't sit and watch TV with him. Well, I don't watch much TV to start with (things to do, I like to stay active). But you don't have to be a communist to not love Fox News. They raise the hair on the back of my neck. And it is hard to be in hearing range of the TV (which of course has to be loud because Dad's hearing is fading). So I try to stay usefully busy "elsewhere".
Third, he is having greater difficulties with mechanical things. The TV remote is one example (see above), but its not JUST manipulating the buttons. He is worse at understanding what the buttons on the remote and the screens on the TV even MEAN than just a few weeks ago.
Take the program grid. It shows the time along the top and channels down the side. He used to have difficulty remembering how to scroll up and down the list. Now he doesn't understand what it IS. On the remote, I have tried to reduce the explanations to simple "Channel Up or Down" and "Volume". He is losing the understanding of that.
Fourth, he is dozing off more often during the day. He doesn't believe me when I tell him he dozes off a dozen times a day (that I know of).
Fifth, I catch him standing in place for minutes at a time, hunched over and unmoving.
Sixth, every hot day, he complains that the kitchen ceiling light is broken. Every day, I explain that the fluorescent light ballast doesn't work well in hot weather (hot attic exposure) and needs to be left on when he leaves the room. Every day, he turns it off every time he leaves the room.
Seventh, Fox "News" has been his channel of choice for decades. Today, as I left to go grocery shopping, he was stuck on the TV listing screen. I asked him if he wanted me to change it to Fox News. He asked what that was. Quite frankly, if he forgets about Fox News, I will be delighted. But that he forgot it is a concern.
Eighth, I allow Iza out with me sometimes. I let Marley out with me (as a test) last week. Today I let all 3 cats out with me. I did it with Dad watching, and I told him that I was doing so. He watched me let them out. 10 minutes later, Dad was on the deck asking me if I knew there was a cat outside. Never mind that he was seeing me standing next to 2 of them and taking pictures. His memory was not 10 minutes long.
There is more, but that's sufficient. Dad is getting worse (in some ways) quickly. In other ways, he is doing fine. If Dad's brain is a house, some rooms are staying relatively clean and functional. Others are completely falling apart. It's hard to watch. I can adjust to most of the changes. If he wants his brocolli boiled to mush, fine. If he needs help with the TV, fine. If he thinks I don't get a newspaper each day, when I set it on the middle on the dining room table, thats fine.
But there is a day coming when he won't be able to manage his personal hygiene. I'll have to give up at that point.
Second, I'm concerned by changes in Dad's preferences and understandings. 10 weeks ago, Dad liked the way I steamed vegetables. "Cooked, but still firm". Now, suddenly, he wants them soft. He used to like to tell how a former-co-worker-turned-chinese-restaurant-owner said the secret of veggies was to "cook until crisp". Now they must be soft enough to separate with the edge of a fork. He can still use a knife well enough. It occurs to me that that is the way his mother cooked vegetables...
I considered dental problems. Dad had a twinge from a tooth infection when he first came here. The dentist couldn't decide between 2 teeth, so he prescribed anti-biotics, then a root canal operation on the infected tooth ("because the infection will return"). The estimate was $950, and Dad is miserly. So he might be hiding a tooth problem. But he happily eats the raw carrots and celery I give him with his lunch sandwich. So I think it isn't the "raw veggie" that is bothering him. It has to be some sudden preference change. Do old folks change that fast?
I've mentioned before that Dad likes to watch Fox News all day. He asked today why I won't sit and watch TV with him. Well, I don't watch much TV to start with (things to do, I like to stay active). But you don't have to be a communist to not love Fox News. They raise the hair on the back of my neck. And it is hard to be in hearing range of the TV (which of course has to be loud because Dad's hearing is fading). So I try to stay usefully busy "elsewhere".
Third, he is having greater difficulties with mechanical things. The TV remote is one example (see above), but its not JUST manipulating the buttons. He is worse at understanding what the buttons on the remote and the screens on the TV even MEAN than just a few weeks ago.
Take the program grid. It shows the time along the top and channels down the side. He used to have difficulty remembering how to scroll up and down the list. Now he doesn't understand what it IS. On the remote, I have tried to reduce the explanations to simple "Channel Up or Down" and "Volume". He is losing the understanding of that.
Fourth, he is dozing off more often during the day. He doesn't believe me when I tell him he dozes off a dozen times a day (that I know of).
Fifth, I catch him standing in place for minutes at a time, hunched over and unmoving.
Sixth, every hot day, he complains that the kitchen ceiling light is broken. Every day, I explain that the fluorescent light ballast doesn't work well in hot weather (hot attic exposure) and needs to be left on when he leaves the room. Every day, he turns it off every time he leaves the room.
Seventh, Fox "News" has been his channel of choice for decades. Today, as I left to go grocery shopping, he was stuck on the TV listing screen. I asked him if he wanted me to change it to Fox News. He asked what that was. Quite frankly, if he forgets about Fox News, I will be delighted. But that he forgot it is a concern.
Eighth, I allow Iza out with me sometimes. I let Marley out with me (as a test) last week. Today I let all 3 cats out with me. I did it with Dad watching, and I told him that I was doing so. He watched me let them out. 10 minutes later, Dad was on the deck asking me if I knew there was a cat outside. Never mind that he was seeing me standing next to 2 of them and taking pictures. His memory was not 10 minutes long.
There is more, but that's sufficient. Dad is getting worse (in some ways) quickly. In other ways, he is doing fine. If Dad's brain is a house, some rooms are staying relatively clean and functional. Others are completely falling apart. It's hard to watch. I can adjust to most of the changes. If he wants his brocolli boiled to mush, fine. If he needs help with the TV, fine. If he thinks I don't get a newspaper each day, when I set it on the middle on the dining room table, thats fine.
But there is a day coming when he won't be able to manage his personal hygiene. I'll have to give up at that point.
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