I've been asked how my Dad is doing. He is not real happy, but there isn't much I can do about it. He lost the ability to take care of himself about 2 years ago when he turned 90. Some of you may remember that I had to fly down from MD to FL to retrieve him from a rehab hospital where he had been held for a month due to doctor-judged incapacity.
I and my brother got him up to my house where I took care of him for a year as he gradually became less able to manage daily affairs even with my help. Last April, my sister found a good assisted-living facility near her where she and my brother and assorted nieces could visit him regularly.
We got him to sell the FL house Fall of 2012 and 2 condo investments he had in NH this past January. They were decent investments, but he kept saying he should move to one of them, so we had to get them out of his thoughts. He doesn't recall either of those places anymore, so that is something less for him to worry about.
Dad gets regular visits from local family. I hate to drive, so I mostly write letters every few weeks telling him things I am doing. He likes to read about "accomplishments", as he was a very dedicated D-I-Y type himself (more than I will ever be).
I get the impression that he his generally happy except after family visits. I know that sounds a bit of a contradiction from above, but it's timing. Left alone, he is generally OK, mostly complaining he doesn't get to watch all the Fox News political talk and Golf he wants. Well, that's because there are more ladies there and they like to watch Soaps and Shopping Channel shows and they outnumber him.
We tried a TV in his room, but he can't manage the channels and mostly forgot it was even there. So he sits quietly and watches whatever is on. There are scheduled activities, but Dad was always bored by arts and crafts and socializing, so he retreats to his room.
I feel sad about it all. He wishes his body would just give up and stop. He's in better physical health than mental health. Physically, he could live to a 100. He can sometimes express a fear that he will start living physically without any self-awareness. I understand that. He can't do anything about it (personal decision). By which I mean that *I* hope I can just crawl out on the deck some cold Winter's night and end it all when I think the time has come for ME. But he doesnt think that way.
He isn't religious in the organized sense, but he does have a residual idea that deliberately ending his own life is somehow "wrong". I don't agree, but I have been very careful not to say anything about that. I don't want to influence him in any way. He is confused enough about his life as it is. I am not wise enough to give him advice about his last years, and he wouldn't pay any attention to my advice if I gave it to him (I'm just a "child" after all, so what could *I* know).
So I write letters to him that I suspect are barely read and little understood. I avoid anything complex and (back to the top) about DIY things he might still understand in general and that might give him the reminder that I am DOING THINGS, hoping he likes that.
*sigh*
Showing posts with label Elder Care. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elder Care. Show all posts
Monday, March 17, 2014
Friday, April 19, 2013
Bye Bye Dadio
Yesterday...
Well, my sister and BIL picked up Dad and all his stuff today. I had all his stuff packed.
Dad put on a warm shirt "because its cold out there". It was 76 and humid...
BIL secures all the stuff. We had to redo it because of Dad's rollercart.
Dad leaves the house ad Sister escorts Dad along the sidewalk.
Dad inspects the packing job and makes suggestions.
Dad finally gets in the car...
And then they all wave goodbye. Dad waved behind the back window, but you can't see him.
And away they went...
I'm sad that that Dad is going to the final assisted living place. So is he. But he beat the odds, you know? Not everyone reaches 91. He is proud of that, and I understand. If I live another 28 years, I'll be his age. I see my future in his stay with me.
Dad and I hugged before he got in the car. We cried a bit. Well, it was a serious year he stayed here, and I will never forget it. But he knows what his future is, and so do I.
He is suffering dementia, but he's not stupid. He KNOWS he doesn't understand things well anymore. He KNOWS he forgets things. Deep in his mind, he knows that things he thinks happen aren't accurate. He's said so, he's talked of it. As crazy and frustrating our discussions were at times, I understand how desperately he was trying to hang on to reality. And I know that he appreciates that I was trying to help him there. He said so, and I'm going to believe it. For the rest of my life...
The last moments we were together alone, he thanked me for taking such good care of him the past "couple months". Well, it was 11 months, but it wasn't a time to quibble. I know he meant "a long time". Sons and Fathers sometimes get awkward speaking to each other.
The assisted living facility is where he won't be challenged about time and accuracy of memories (which I did far too often). They will know how to speak to him in only the present tense and avoid all the inconvenient discussions of the past that I could not avoid at times.
In the past year, I learned some things about his life that I never really knew before. He did more civilian stuff in WWII than I realized. Like building ships. He had a patent on a gadget once. He was a real mechanical engineer. I knew some of that vaguely. but in our times, Dads didn't really bother to explain their careers to the kids. That is precious. He may have learned a few things about me, too. Like I "know science stuff", that I'm a (sort of) writer (he read a couple short stories I got published in a semi-vanity press and said "your mother said you wrote good stuff, but I had never read them before (meaning that he didn't care for it himself, but was impressed I wrote it) and that was good enough for me. He has admired all the daffodils he saw this last month that I planted in past years. He was never here at this time of year before. He said, "you care about beauty, like your Mom".
And he said he was surprised I like Escher prints (4 hanging on the walls the whole year). Very "engineerish" he said.
I think it was all a final compliment as he left. Things he never said to me before. At 62, I don't really need validation. But I don't mind it either. You probably can't ever not like validation from your Dad.
He will be a "resident", not a parent, at the assisted living facility. Someone they will care for and not challenge sometimes in frustration as I sometimes did. They will not care about (or know about) the parent/child dynamics. And that will be good for him. Dad will end his days only around people like him to talk to and a staff dedicated to just taking care of him.
And now I have to figure out what to do with this blog...
Vote for the best thing...
1. Keep talking about Dad (what little I learn).
2. Get back to the pre-Dad yardwork and house projects.
3. Get WAY back and become a liberal political pest.
Well, my sister and BIL picked up Dad and all his stuff today. I had all his stuff packed.
I'm sad that that Dad is going to the final assisted living place. So is he. But he beat the odds, you know? Not everyone reaches 91. He is proud of that, and I understand. If I live another 28 years, I'll be his age. I see my future in his stay with me.
Dad and I hugged before he got in the car. We cried a bit. Well, it was a serious year he stayed here, and I will never forget it. But he knows what his future is, and so do I.
He is suffering dementia, but he's not stupid. He KNOWS he doesn't understand things well anymore. He KNOWS he forgets things. Deep in his mind, he knows that things he thinks happen aren't accurate. He's said so, he's talked of it. As crazy and frustrating our discussions were at times, I understand how desperately he was trying to hang on to reality. And I know that he appreciates that I was trying to help him there. He said so, and I'm going to believe it. For the rest of my life...
The last moments we were together alone, he thanked me for taking such good care of him the past "couple months". Well, it was 11 months, but it wasn't a time to quibble. I know he meant "a long time". Sons and Fathers sometimes get awkward speaking to each other.
The assisted living facility is where he won't be challenged about time and accuracy of memories (which I did far too often). They will know how to speak to him in only the present tense and avoid all the inconvenient discussions of the past that I could not avoid at times.
In the past year, I learned some things about his life that I never really knew before. He did more civilian stuff in WWII than I realized. Like building ships. He had a patent on a gadget once. He was a real mechanical engineer. I knew some of that vaguely. but in our times, Dads didn't really bother to explain their careers to the kids. That is precious. He may have learned a few things about me, too. Like I "know science stuff", that I'm a (sort of) writer (he read a couple short stories I got published in a semi-vanity press and said "your mother said you wrote good stuff, but I had never read them before (meaning that he didn't care for it himself, but was impressed I wrote it) and that was good enough for me. He has admired all the daffodils he saw this last month that I planted in past years. He was never here at this time of year before. He said, "you care about beauty, like your Mom".
And he said he was surprised I like Escher prints (4 hanging on the walls the whole year). Very "engineerish" he said.
I think it was all a final compliment as he left. Things he never said to me before. At 62, I don't really need validation. But I don't mind it either. You probably can't ever not like validation from your Dad.
He will be a "resident", not a parent, at the assisted living facility. Someone they will care for and not challenge sometimes in frustration as I sometimes did. They will not care about (or know about) the parent/child dynamics. And that will be good for him. Dad will end his days only around people like him to talk to and a staff dedicated to just taking care of him.
And now I have to figure out what to do with this blog...
Vote for the best thing...
1. Keep talking about Dad (what little I learn).
2. Get back to the pre-Dad yardwork and house projects.
3. Get WAY back and become a liberal political pest.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Moving Day Minus One
Oops, this was supposed to be posted yesterday. So pretend it was and I'll put up today's post tomorrow...
It felt strange packing up Dad's stuff today. It wasn't that there was all that much (there wasn't - he came up here with what fit in a sedan and he is leaving with less), it was the act of preparing to have him leave tomorrow.
I'm a bit torn about the whole thing. Sometimes he refers to me "kicking him out", which is not very nice. But I understand that he would very much prefer to remain in a regular house with a family member. Moving in with a bunch of strangers has to be scary.
At the same time, he generally understands that he needs more professional care (if not today, then soon). Sometimes I too wish that I could take care of him for longer (to delay this inevitable final move). But I can tell that I can't take care of him much longer without turning myself into a full time nurse and I don't have the training or experience to do it much longer anyway. Heck, I can't even simply pick him up when he falls.
I'm not feeling exactly guilty. Indeed, I will be relieved to be free of the responsibility. I will be relieved to not have to be around the house as much as possible, to not have to explain why I am leaving it and for how long and why. I will enjoy being able to just go outside without worrying he will fall and hurt himself while I'm out.
I am relieved that he is taking this change in his life as well as he is. When I first talked to him about assisted-care living, he said he didn't think I could make him leave. I envisioned having to nearly carry him to the car and driving him away screaming he was being kidnapped (as he nearly did when my brother and I moved him from FL to here). At least now, he seems quietly resigned to the necessity of the move. He also understands that this move will eventually end in hospice care at the "end".
But it will feel odd not to have him here. I'll have to re-learn my old habits. I'll be eating WHEN I feel like it, eating WHAT I feel like, going out WHEN I want, staying up as LATE as I feel like, getting up WHEN I feel like, etc. I may even start playing golf and going fishing again. I didn't do those last things the year before he arrived, but for the last year I felt like I couldn't, which is a big difference.
I will focus on the thoughts that he will have better personal care and more companionship. I will focus on the thought that, after a couple of weeks, he will actually be happier in assisted care (something I have been told by many to be "almost universally" true. I will focus on the thought that, after a month or so, he will forget he was ever here (his memory of his place in FL was gone after only 3 months and his memory is much worse now). Very soon, his memories will be only day-to-day and of events decades ago. His recent past will just be absent.
There is most of the family nearby where he is moving. I will probably visit every month. The day he doesn't remember who I am, I will stop visiting. I won't be visiting for my benefit. I don't have to see him to love him as my Dad.
He will eventually forget being here and who I am. But I will remember this past year...
It felt strange packing up Dad's stuff today. It wasn't that there was all that much (there wasn't - he came up here with what fit in a sedan and he is leaving with less), it was the act of preparing to have him leave tomorrow.
I'm a bit torn about the whole thing. Sometimes he refers to me "kicking him out", which is not very nice. But I understand that he would very much prefer to remain in a regular house with a family member. Moving in with a bunch of strangers has to be scary.
At the same time, he generally understands that he needs more professional care (if not today, then soon). Sometimes I too wish that I could take care of him for longer (to delay this inevitable final move). But I can tell that I can't take care of him much longer without turning myself into a full time nurse and I don't have the training or experience to do it much longer anyway. Heck, I can't even simply pick him up when he falls.
I'm not feeling exactly guilty. Indeed, I will be relieved to be free of the responsibility. I will be relieved to not have to be around the house as much as possible, to not have to explain why I am leaving it and for how long and why. I will enjoy being able to just go outside without worrying he will fall and hurt himself while I'm out.
I am relieved that he is taking this change in his life as well as he is. When I first talked to him about assisted-care living, he said he didn't think I could make him leave. I envisioned having to nearly carry him to the car and driving him away screaming he was being kidnapped (as he nearly did when my brother and I moved him from FL to here). At least now, he seems quietly resigned to the necessity of the move. He also understands that this move will eventually end in hospice care at the "end".
But it will feel odd not to have him here. I'll have to re-learn my old habits. I'll be eating WHEN I feel like it, eating WHAT I feel like, going out WHEN I want, staying up as LATE as I feel like, getting up WHEN I feel like, etc. I may even start playing golf and going fishing again. I didn't do those last things the year before he arrived, but for the last year I felt like I couldn't, which is a big difference.
I will focus on the thoughts that he will have better personal care and more companionship. I will focus on the thought that, after a couple of weeks, he will actually be happier in assisted care (something I have been told by many to be "almost universally" true. I will focus on the thought that, after a month or so, he will forget he was ever here (his memory of his place in FL was gone after only 3 months and his memory is much worse now). Very soon, his memories will be only day-to-day and of events decades ago. His recent past will just be absent.
There is most of the family nearby where he is moving. I will probably visit every month. The day he doesn't remember who I am, I will stop visiting. I won't be visiting for my benefit. I don't have to see him to love him as my Dad.
He will eventually forget being here and who I am. But I will remember this past year...
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
A Place For Dad
Well, I got word today that the assisted living facility (ALF) will have a room for Dad April 18th. I don't plan to think of "why" so suddenly; sad things happen.
I'm suddenly busy with making plans for next week. And Dr appointments... I'm glad I got Dad to a dentist this week; one thing out of the way. And I got Dad to the eye Dr today; it turns out his cheap drugstore glasses are just fine for his needs and he has no other vision problems.
I need to get Dad to his geriatric internist Dr ASAP for the ALF medical evaluation and will call for an appointment tomorrow. They can usually arrange an appointment in 2-3 days, so that's OK.
The difficult plans are getting Dad, his personal stuff, and bed to the ALF (near the rest of the family and about 90 miles from here. I suggested 4 plans to my sister and am waiting for her thoughts on them. All plans involve a family member driving down here and only one doesn't involve me driving up there. I hope she likes the one where I don't do any driving. LOL!
It is all a bit more sudden than I expected. But if it all works out, I will sure be relieved. I know that doesn't sound very kind, but I'm a bit worn out. Even Dad says he feels bad about how much work I do to take care of him.
I won't say I'm "happy" to do it all, but I'm "willing". I'm sure you understand the difference.
When I retired from office work in 2006, I came home and told the cats "I'm here, forever, and I'm yours". I felt complete freedom to just live "my way".
When Dad leaves here in bout a week, I will feel much the same way. It's been a hard year, and it was an important experience in my life. I would have gladly skipped the experience, but I'm sure you know what I mean.
I'm going to speak some truth here. I won't miss his daily presence. He has been a demanding "guest" for 11 months. I was perfectly happy with him living down in FL, and I will be perfectly happy with him living in the ALF for the rest of his days. I don't have to see my family every day in order to love and care about them.
If Dad had been 10 years younger when he moved in with me, things would have been different. We could have talked, shared some experiences, etc. But that was not the case (and he wouldn't have moved in with me 10 years ago). Every time for the past 4 months, I have regretted each conversation beyond "its dinnertime, go to the table". His mental confusion has driven me nearly crazy. Any accidental reference I made for months has caused a long, confused explanation that left me mentally exhausted. It's not his fault, it's mine. I should have learned what to talk to Dad about. Meals, weather, golf channel, etc. I talk too much when someone else is around.
But the move is about set. I could make a joke about "the long national nightmare is over" (Ford about Nixon), but that's not really true. I know how frustrated Dad is about is inabilities. I know how angry he feels at himself when he can't find words (and I try to comfort him about that). I know how frustrated he is when he can't walk easily. I have learned how much he struggles to maintain his personal life and do what he needs to do on his own.
When I watch Dad, I see my own future. I understand that a day will come in a future decade when I am in his shoes. While I have a vague plan to "check out" just before I get to Dad's condition, I also realize I might not remember those plans at the right time. Life is complicated and death is more complicated.
I will miss Dad, in a way. This has been an intensely "togetherness" year. But I will be gladder to get my life back. And it will start in about a week. I'm not doing cartwheels though the yard, but I will be relieved.
I'm suddenly busy with making plans for next week. And Dr appointments... I'm glad I got Dad to a dentist this week; one thing out of the way. And I got Dad to the eye Dr today; it turns out his cheap drugstore glasses are just fine for his needs and he has no other vision problems.
I need to get Dad to his geriatric internist Dr ASAP for the ALF medical evaluation and will call for an appointment tomorrow. They can usually arrange an appointment in 2-3 days, so that's OK.
The difficult plans are getting Dad, his personal stuff, and bed to the ALF (near the rest of the family and about 90 miles from here. I suggested 4 plans to my sister and am waiting for her thoughts on them. All plans involve a family member driving down here and only one doesn't involve me driving up there. I hope she likes the one where I don't do any driving. LOL!
It is all a bit more sudden than I expected. But if it all works out, I will sure be relieved. I know that doesn't sound very kind, but I'm a bit worn out. Even Dad says he feels bad about how much work I do to take care of him.
I won't say I'm "happy" to do it all, but I'm "willing". I'm sure you understand the difference.
When I retired from office work in 2006, I came home and told the cats "I'm here, forever, and I'm yours". I felt complete freedom to just live "my way".
When Dad leaves here in bout a week, I will feel much the same way. It's been a hard year, and it was an important experience in my life. I would have gladly skipped the experience, but I'm sure you know what I mean.
I'm going to speak some truth here. I won't miss his daily presence. He has been a demanding "guest" for 11 months. I was perfectly happy with him living down in FL, and I will be perfectly happy with him living in the ALF for the rest of his days. I don't have to see my family every day in order to love and care about them.
If Dad had been 10 years younger when he moved in with me, things would have been different. We could have talked, shared some experiences, etc. But that was not the case (and he wouldn't have moved in with me 10 years ago). Every time for the past 4 months, I have regretted each conversation beyond "its dinnertime, go to the table". His mental confusion has driven me nearly crazy. Any accidental reference I made for months has caused a long, confused explanation that left me mentally exhausted. It's not his fault, it's mine. I should have learned what to talk to Dad about. Meals, weather, golf channel, etc. I talk too much when someone else is around.
But the move is about set. I could make a joke about "the long national nightmare is over" (Ford about Nixon), but that's not really true. I know how frustrated Dad is about is inabilities. I know how angry he feels at himself when he can't find words (and I try to comfort him about that). I know how frustrated he is when he can't walk easily. I have learned how much he struggles to maintain his personal life and do what he needs to do on his own.
When I watch Dad, I see my own future. I understand that a day will come in a future decade when I am in his shoes. While I have a vague plan to "check out" just before I get to Dad's condition, I also realize I might not remember those plans at the right time. Life is complicated and death is more complicated.
I will miss Dad, in a way. This has been an intensely "togetherness" year. But I will be gladder to get my life back. And it will start in about a week. I'm not doing cartwheels though the yard, but I will be relieved.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
A Bump On The Road
Sometimes it seems the universe wants to throw boards onto the bike path. The room that we were told would become available, will not be. We didn't know the details, of course, but it seems the family got VA benefits to keep their elder at the assisted living house.
Now, the next room available will probably be from someone who is at hospice care level. Hospice care is not long-term, of course, and the room might even come available sooner.
None of us want to see any elder taken out of assisted living care from lack of funds, and we sure don't want someone's loved one to die conveniently just to make a room available. We will simply wait for the wheel of life to turn naturally and offer space for OUR Dad. Meanwhile, I will "keep on keeping on" and hope Dad has good days until space at this good place is available.
I am going to decline the respite care available locally if I can. I don't want Dad to have to move twice. Once will be hard enough. I can keep answering the same questions each day, the new weird questions, and the daily food difficulties (while at the same time hoping he does not get suddenly worse).
Tonight, Dad suddenly couldn't cut his chicken thigh (a favorite food). Well, all meat has been becoming a problem. He wiggles his knife 1/16th" and the meat moves that far too, so no cutting occurs. He blames the meat or the knife of course. I asked if he wanted help and he said that I couldn't possibly cut it either because it was so tough.
Well, he can't make full cutting strokes, but he was trying to cut through the bone! I took care of it, "zip, zip, zip" and he was amazed. I just said "Long knife-strokes, Dad" (as I've said almost every night for months). I will take of that for all future meals. I can get de-boned chicken thighs and serve more meals that don't require knife-work.
He does better with pork stew (roasted Boston Butt cubed up with diced potato/carrots/beans/onion and a flour-thickened herb sauce), peeled shrimp, Italian sausage smothered is slow-cooked red and green bell peppers or spaghetti with commercial meatballs (simmer crushed canned tomatoes with crushed garlic, italian seasoning, and minced onions with the meatballs for 30 minutes. Commercial sauce has way too much sugar and salt). No bones, and the meat is either pre-cut or easy to cut (like the sausage). I slit the sausage down the side and remove the casing. I've learned to make chicken breast strips (called "chicken fingers" locally) here with dipping sauces too (but Dad thinks he is supposed to eat the sauces with a spoon.
A smile: Dad is so used to being "cheap" that a drop of sauce is all he wants... I am so used to making grand meals ("Sunday Dinner" every day) that I hardly think twice about the effort. That part of Dad's support is nearly invisible to me. It really doesn't take much effort to make a sauce for two as for one. I eat spaghetti for the tomato sauce*; Dad wants just a spoonful of ANY sauce. Cooking for someone else is weird,
But I've learned to stop worrying HOW he eats his food (which used to drive me nuts). If he thinks the pork stew is soup, that's fine. If he thinks the dipping sauces are "side dishes", that's fine. If he wants to scrape the wine/horseradish topping off his beef and put it in his salad, that's fine (as long as he eats the salad). But I don't want to watch, LOL! The important thing is that it all gets inside him. But he eats his meals at a dining table (very traditionally) and I eat on a TV tray while watching science/nature DVDs (about my only TV viewing).
OK, this has gone from Dad moving out to food. That's OK, I love food (and at 5'7" and 163 pounds, I'm not too worried about it. What I DO demand of my food is that it be varied and healthy. Without ever intending to follow a diet, I find that I am close to "Paleo Diet". Some meat, lots of non-grain veggies, not much sugar, and plenty of fruit. I can actually eat "one potato chip" and I have one small piece of chocolate after a meal. Good quality chocolate, though, LOL!
To connect this back to Dad though, he has to have a standard dessert, and large. Big bowl of ice cream, a few chocolate chip cookies, I don't worry about it. I try to get him to eat fresh fruit, buts that's actually more for the water (he avoids water).
We'll get by for the next month or so until there is a room at the assisted living facility that seems best-suited for him. Waiting an extra month for "the best place he will spent the rest of his life" is survivable with an end to his time here in sight.
Do I want him to be out of here? Yes. Do I want my regular life back? Yes. Who wouldn't? But I can keep going for now, and that's the important thing. It's duty, responsibility, and respect for now.
Would I talk to him often if he was just my next-door neighbor? Probably not. He was an obnoxious pain decades ago. His golf partners used to roll their eyes at the things he said. At times, he could make Rush Limbaugh seem liberal. But now is not the time to try to teach him anything.
My job now is to manage his "end of life" issues.
* I once dated an ethnically Italian girl and at my first dinner there, they offered me the sauce first. I botched it by pouring a load of sauce on my pasta. The relationship didn't last (for other reasons). Interestingly, a co-worker told me about HER first meal with an Italian family and SHE knew not to use much tomato sauce. I would blame my parents for not teaching me such fine details, but they came from big sauce families. ;)
"Laugh at the world; it won't care".
Mark
Now, the next room available will probably be from someone who is at hospice care level. Hospice care is not long-term, of course, and the room might even come available sooner.
None of us want to see any elder taken out of assisted living care from lack of funds, and we sure don't want someone's loved one to die conveniently just to make a room available. We will simply wait for the wheel of life to turn naturally and offer space for OUR Dad. Meanwhile, I will "keep on keeping on" and hope Dad has good days until space at this good place is available.
I am going to decline the respite care available locally if I can. I don't want Dad to have to move twice. Once will be hard enough. I can keep answering the same questions each day, the new weird questions, and the daily food difficulties (while at the same time hoping he does not get suddenly worse).
Tonight, Dad suddenly couldn't cut his chicken thigh (a favorite food). Well, all meat has been becoming a problem. He wiggles his knife 1/16th" and the meat moves that far too, so no cutting occurs. He blames the meat or the knife of course. I asked if he wanted help and he said that I couldn't possibly cut it either because it was so tough.
Well, he can't make full cutting strokes, but he was trying to cut through the bone! I took care of it, "zip, zip, zip" and he was amazed. I just said "Long knife-strokes, Dad" (as I've said almost every night for months). I will take of that for all future meals. I can get de-boned chicken thighs and serve more meals that don't require knife-work.
He does better with pork stew (roasted Boston Butt cubed up with diced potato/carrots/beans/onion and a flour-thickened herb sauce), peeled shrimp, Italian sausage smothered is slow-cooked red and green bell peppers or spaghetti with commercial meatballs (simmer crushed canned tomatoes with crushed garlic, italian seasoning, and minced onions with the meatballs for 30 minutes. Commercial sauce has way too much sugar and salt). No bones, and the meat is either pre-cut or easy to cut (like the sausage). I slit the sausage down the side and remove the casing. I've learned to make chicken breast strips (called "chicken fingers" locally) here with dipping sauces too (but Dad thinks he is supposed to eat the sauces with a spoon.
A smile: Dad is so used to being "cheap" that a drop of sauce is all he wants... I am so used to making grand meals ("Sunday Dinner" every day) that I hardly think twice about the effort. That part of Dad's support is nearly invisible to me. It really doesn't take much effort to make a sauce for two as for one. I eat spaghetti for the tomato sauce*; Dad wants just a spoonful of ANY sauce. Cooking for someone else is weird,
But I've learned to stop worrying HOW he eats his food (which used to drive me nuts). If he thinks the pork stew is soup, that's fine. If he thinks the dipping sauces are "side dishes", that's fine. If he wants to scrape the wine/horseradish topping off his beef and put it in his salad, that's fine (as long as he eats the salad). But I don't want to watch, LOL! The important thing is that it all gets inside him. But he eats his meals at a dining table (very traditionally) and I eat on a TV tray while watching science/nature DVDs (about my only TV viewing).
OK, this has gone from Dad moving out to food. That's OK, I love food (and at 5'7" and 163 pounds, I'm not too worried about it. What I DO demand of my food is that it be varied and healthy. Without ever intending to follow a diet, I find that I am close to "Paleo Diet". Some meat, lots of non-grain veggies, not much sugar, and plenty of fruit. I can actually eat "one potato chip" and I have one small piece of chocolate after a meal. Good quality chocolate, though, LOL!
To connect this back to Dad though, he has to have a standard dessert, and large. Big bowl of ice cream, a few chocolate chip cookies, I don't worry about it. I try to get him to eat fresh fruit, buts that's actually more for the water (he avoids water).
We'll get by for the next month or so until there is a room at the assisted living facility that seems best-suited for him. Waiting an extra month for "the best place he will spent the rest of his life" is survivable with an end to his time here in sight.
Do I want him to be out of here? Yes. Do I want my regular life back? Yes. Who wouldn't? But I can keep going for now, and that's the important thing. It's duty, responsibility, and respect for now.
Would I talk to him often if he was just my next-door neighbor? Probably not. He was an obnoxious pain decades ago. His golf partners used to roll their eyes at the things he said. At times, he could make Rush Limbaugh seem liberal. But now is not the time to try to teach him anything.
My job now is to manage his "end of life" issues.
* I once dated an ethnically Italian girl and at my first dinner there, they offered me the sauce first. I botched it by pouring a load of sauce on my pasta. The relationship didn't last (for other reasons). Interestingly, a co-worker told me about HER first meal with an Italian family and SHE knew not to use much tomato sauce. I would blame my parents for not teaching me such fine details, but they came from big sauce families. ;)
"Laugh at the world; it won't care".
Mark
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
One Month
And so much to do. Dr appointment for TB test and filling out the medical evaluation form for the assisted living house, dentist appointment for 2 bad teeth (that I didn't know about before a month ago), eye doctor appointment for "real" reading glasses to replace those drug store magnifiers I discovered he has. Clothes that fit. He has been wearing 34/30 and he NEEDS 36 or 38/26. And he really needs suspenders; belts are too complicated for him.
Its my fault, I let Dad decide what he needed It seemed right at the time. But I am correcting some mistakes as he moves out of my life. I just wish I had been more forceful months ago...
Its my fault, I let Dad decide what he needed It seemed right at the time. But I am correcting some mistakes as he moves out of my life. I just wish I had been more forceful months ago...
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Elder Care
Dad is still trying to find reasons not to move to an assisted-living facility (ALF), but I'll talk about that another day.
Today, I want to talk about me (and, by extension, some of you in a similar situation). I have been caring for Dad since last May, and it will be this May when he moves to ALF. There is a chinese curse "May you live in interesting times", because "interesting times" times are not easy. It has been an "interesting" year...
I tried to think a couple of months into the future for my planning for Dad to move to an ALF. But I planned a month too short. Dad is having real problems right now rather suddenly and there is no where for him to go for a month. You don't have to suggest in-home care, I'm looking into that. And anyway, this is for others.
My point is that a month is so short a time normally, but a very long time when you are caring for an elder who needs professional care "now". I'm not comparing myself to others. Some people are more able to care for others than I am. But whenever you really think "next month", think "I really should have found a good place last month". It is so easy to think there is time, and then the day is on you. It happens far more suddenly than you expect.
And this is a thing you seldom get to learn from for better decisions in the future. Elder care is (usually) a one-off event. A parent takes the care of a spouse and then that parent needs care him/her self. That's you doing that part. No matter what you think, how many books or newspaper articles you read, you won't be prepared. You cannot understand dementia, and you cannot understand what it means for a person in your house who can't (please don't jump on me if you are "differently-abled") just walk around.
Your elder parent will go from difficulty getting out of chairs to a complete inability to stand up at all in just a week. He/She will very suddenly discover that the time it takes to get to the bathroom only 30' away is longer than nature allows. It just happens one day.
No one wants to send a parent to an ALF, but trust me, a month too soon is better than a month too late. April will be a very difficult month here. So, for what it's worth, some thoughts on things I wish I had known..
1. Visit local ALFs months before needed. Bring the elder. Take pictures of the place. Pictures provide familiarity.
2. Get the Dr evaluation form early and bring the elder to the Dr before required. The difference in the Dr evaluation from one month to the next can be very informative. A geriatric Dr is best. He/She can tell changes in abilities better than you can.
3. Most ALFs are good, but some are more good than others. Your elder can help you decide which suits him/her better than you can. I didn't allow my Dad to be involved. That was a mistake.
4. Bedrooms matter. Size is important. Your elder will think of the bedroom as a primary living space. Even if that is not the primary living space.
5. It's "I need to talk to you", not "we need to talk" when The Conversation occurs about moving the elder to the ALF. Explain the household situation calmly, and emphasize the elder's care. Your own stress and tiredness are YOUR problem, not his/hers. Stick with the elder's physical needs, not the mental ones. The elder is SURE his/her mind is fine, but does know about physical problems. Stay calm through endless (and repeated) questions. There will be many.
6. Discuss the move daily. Repetition helps. They forget.
7. Get the elder new clothes that fit well. Everyone wants to make a good initial impression. Seriously, have you ever seen an elder with good clothes?
8. Talk to the ALF staff about minor details. Ask them what residents want that no one thinks of. They know. Sometimes its just chocolate chip cookies in the bedroom for late night snacks. With a nice note from the child. Or maybe a reminder of how to make a martini.
9. Schedule visits. Routine is very important to elders.
10. Remember that The Conversation is NOT a debate; it's a decision. Your decision. There will be "you are kicking me out". But it really is your decision. Accept that. You are doing what is best for your elder. Keep it in terms of what care your elder needs, not whether you love them. Of course you love them. But don't allow that to be the discussion.
I am not feeling guilty now. I've done what I could and it is time for professional help. Professionals know how to help an elder better than I can in the last stage of life. When you have been caring for an elder, sometimes the hardest thing is to let go. Be willing to let go...
Heck, when Dad falls down, I don't really know the best way to pull him back up. But trained staff does. I don't really know how to answer his really weird questions. But trained staff does.
About all I can think of for now...
Today, I want to talk about me (and, by extension, some of you in a similar situation). I have been caring for Dad since last May, and it will be this May when he moves to ALF. There is a chinese curse "May you live in interesting times", because "interesting times" times are not easy. It has been an "interesting" year...
I tried to think a couple of months into the future for my planning for Dad to move to an ALF. But I planned a month too short. Dad is having real problems right now rather suddenly and there is no where for him to go for a month. You don't have to suggest in-home care, I'm looking into that. And anyway, this is for others.
My point is that a month is so short a time normally, but a very long time when you are caring for an elder who needs professional care "now". I'm not comparing myself to others. Some people are more able to care for others than I am. But whenever you really think "next month", think "I really should have found a good place last month". It is so easy to think there is time, and then the day is on you. It happens far more suddenly than you expect.
And this is a thing you seldom get to learn from for better decisions in the future. Elder care is (usually) a one-off event. A parent takes the care of a spouse and then that parent needs care him/her self. That's you doing that part. No matter what you think, how many books or newspaper articles you read, you won't be prepared. You cannot understand dementia, and you cannot understand what it means for a person in your house who can't (please don't jump on me if you are "differently-abled") just walk around.
Your elder parent will go from difficulty getting out of chairs to a complete inability to stand up at all in just a week. He/She will very suddenly discover that the time it takes to get to the bathroom only 30' away is longer than nature allows. It just happens one day.
No one wants to send a parent to an ALF, but trust me, a month too soon is better than a month too late. April will be a very difficult month here. So, for what it's worth, some thoughts on things I wish I had known..
1. Visit local ALFs months before needed. Bring the elder. Take pictures of the place. Pictures provide familiarity.
2. Get the Dr evaluation form early and bring the elder to the Dr before required. The difference in the Dr evaluation from one month to the next can be very informative. A geriatric Dr is best. He/She can tell changes in abilities better than you can.
3. Most ALFs are good, but some are more good than others. Your elder can help you decide which suits him/her better than you can. I didn't allow my Dad to be involved. That was a mistake.
4. Bedrooms matter. Size is important. Your elder will think of the bedroom as a primary living space. Even if that is not the primary living space.
5. It's "I need to talk to you", not "we need to talk" when The Conversation occurs about moving the elder to the ALF. Explain the household situation calmly, and emphasize the elder's care. Your own stress and tiredness are YOUR problem, not his/hers. Stick with the elder's physical needs, not the mental ones. The elder is SURE his/her mind is fine, but does know about physical problems. Stay calm through endless (and repeated) questions. There will be many.
6. Discuss the move daily. Repetition helps. They forget.
7. Get the elder new clothes that fit well. Everyone wants to make a good initial impression. Seriously, have you ever seen an elder with good clothes?
8. Talk to the ALF staff about minor details. Ask them what residents want that no one thinks of. They know. Sometimes its just chocolate chip cookies in the bedroom for late night snacks. With a nice note from the child. Or maybe a reminder of how to make a martini.
9. Schedule visits. Routine is very important to elders.
10. Remember that The Conversation is NOT a debate; it's a decision. Your decision. There will be "you are kicking me out". But it really is your decision. Accept that. You are doing what is best for your elder. Keep it in terms of what care your elder needs, not whether you love them. Of course you love them. But don't allow that to be the discussion.
I am not feeling guilty now. I've done what I could and it is time for professional help. Professionals know how to help an elder better than I can in the last stage of life. When you have been caring for an elder, sometimes the hardest thing is to let go. Be willing to let go...
Heck, when Dad falls down, I don't really know the best way to pull him back up. But trained staff does. I don't really know how to answer his really weird questions. But trained staff does.
About all I can think of for now...
Saturday, March 30, 2013
And Today
Today, Dad is fighting the move. The bedroom will be too small, he won't like the food, he will be a minority, the staff won't be friendly, etc. I will have him talk tomorrow to my sister who chose the place.
But it won't relieve his fears entirely. He fears the change, and I understand that. He is happy here. Too happy. I attend to his every needs. What he doesn't really understand is that his needs are growing greater each month.
He doesn't realize that he is reducing his routine every week, He used to watch any of 5 channels, now he he wants only 2. His food preferences are diminishing. He is struggling to get to the bathroom "on time". He talks bizarrely, but he doesn't realize it.
Last night, he said that being in an ALF (assisted living facility) in a town 10 miles away from other family was good because he "could bicycle or walk to visit them". It doesn't get much crazier than that. He couldn't "bicycle" away from a starving crippled alligator.
And he thinks the move is "too complicated". OK, it isn't. My brother and sister will drive down here and my brother will transport the bedroom furniture in his truck and sister will transport Dad. He can't understand how simple that is to us.
He thinks none of us understand his investments. I have been filing his investment papers for a year and arranged for his income taxes twice now. I know them by heart better than he does. He insists I can't possibly know "that stuff". Well, of course I do. 10 years ago, he did too. But not now.
This is going to be harder than I thought.
I am reluctant to have him visit the place. Yes, he might think it wonderful. But he is more likely to find trivial faults.
So, drive him 2 hours up to visit the place and 2 hours back, or not? Pros and cons...
But it won't relieve his fears entirely. He fears the change, and I understand that. He is happy here. Too happy. I attend to his every needs. What he doesn't really understand is that his needs are growing greater each month.
He doesn't realize that he is reducing his routine every week, He used to watch any of 5 channels, now he he wants only 2. His food preferences are diminishing. He is struggling to get to the bathroom "on time". He talks bizarrely, but he doesn't realize it.
Last night, he said that being in an ALF (assisted living facility) in a town 10 miles away from other family was good because he "could bicycle or walk to visit them". It doesn't get much crazier than that. He couldn't "bicycle" away from a starving crippled alligator.
And he thinks the move is "too complicated". OK, it isn't. My brother and sister will drive down here and my brother will transport the bedroom furniture in his truck and sister will transport Dad. He can't understand how simple that is to us.
He thinks none of us understand his investments. I have been filing his investment papers for a year and arranged for his income taxes twice now. I know them by heart better than he does. He insists I can't possibly know "that stuff". Well, of course I do. 10 years ago, he did too. But not now.
This is going to be harder than I thought.
I am reluctant to have him visit the place. Yes, he might think it wonderful. But he is more likely to find trivial faults.
So, drive him 2 hours up to visit the place and 2 hours back, or not? Pros and cons...
Friday, March 29, 2013
The Decision
Well, the decision has been made. An assisted living facility (ALF) has been chosen, I have forms to fill out, Dr appointments to make, etc. The family has found a good place near most of them (out of my area). Entry is available May 1st.
I am sad about all of this, of course, but relieved as well. Dad needs more attention and care than I can continue to give without slipping into martyrdom.
There are so many things to plan.
That doesn't mean that the several conversations with Dad were easy; they wern't. But it does mean that HE accepts that he is going to need more physical assistance soon than I can provide. I discussed that the precise costs depended on the level of care he needed and he asked what those were. Oh thanks for smooth tranisitions and killer arguments... When I said that the monthly care costs depended on whether someone could dress, bathe and use the bathroom themselves vs someone who couldn't, he blurted out "but pretty soon I'LL need that help"!
And then he realized he was needing assisted living care soon. I discussed waiting lists and the benefits of being where there was proffessional assistance just BEFORE he needed it. He accepted that he needed to go to an ALF.
There are many more family members where he will be moving to than there are here (just me here and 6 where he is going).
He hasn't given up the struggle. He raises trivial arguments. It will be so complicated to move (no), he has so many billing addresses to change (no). He needs to approve the bedroom (well, no, but only because its better than the one here).
He says he trusts my sister's judgement on the place (except he doesn't really). He is afraid of something that I haven't gotten him to talk about yet. We will discuss this again in the early afternoon when he is most alert.
My main purpose is to keep his focus on the positive aspects of moving to a good ALF. The longer it goes with him accepting that he will be moving, the better it will be.
There will be some more awkward conversations the next few days, but every day without him saying "no" will be a good one.
I am sad about all of this, of course, but relieved as well. Dad needs more attention and care than I can continue to give without slipping into martyrdom.
There are so many things to plan.
That doesn't mean that the several conversations with Dad were easy; they wern't. But it does mean that HE accepts that he is going to need more physical assistance soon than I can provide. I discussed that the precise costs depended on the level of care he needed and he asked what those were. Oh thanks for smooth tranisitions and killer arguments... When I said that the monthly care costs depended on whether someone could dress, bathe and use the bathroom themselves vs someone who couldn't, he blurted out "but pretty soon I'LL need that help"!
And then he realized he was needing assisted living care soon. I discussed waiting lists and the benefits of being where there was proffessional assistance just BEFORE he needed it. He accepted that he needed to go to an ALF.
There are many more family members where he will be moving to than there are here (just me here and 6 where he is going).
He hasn't given up the struggle. He raises trivial arguments. It will be so complicated to move (no), he has so many billing addresses to change (no). He needs to approve the bedroom (well, no, but only because its better than the one here).
He says he trusts my sister's judgement on the place (except he doesn't really). He is afraid of something that I haven't gotten him to talk about yet. We will discuss this again in the early afternoon when he is most alert.
My main purpose is to keep his focus on the positive aspects of moving to a good ALF. The longer it goes with him accepting that he will be moving, the better it will be.
There will be some more awkward conversations the next few days, but every day without him saying "no" will be a good one.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Assisted Living Facilities
I researched local assisted living facilities and eliminated most of them as places Dad wouldn't like. Some were for active seniors, lots of visits to the shopping malls and bingo games. Others were holistic medications or foods Dad does not like.
I narrowed it down to 2. The one I visited today was a very professional place. The one I will visit tomorrow is a small group home. The place today seems perfect. A personal bedroom/bathroom and community TV rooms, dining rooms, activity rooms, etc. Seriously good onsite health care, transport to local Dr of choice, individual meals at common eating areas, groups living/TV rooms.
Own rooms ranging from 2 in a space to 2 full bedroom apartments. Friendly caring staff, medical assistants onsite 24/7, etc. They can easily move Dad from assisted living to the dementia living area when the time comes.I think this is the place.
I saw the staff checking on the residents in the commom TV room area about how they were doing and did they want any snacks, etc. The staff seemed pleased to be there. No hulking guys to force anyone around.
Personal attention to meal preferences and not just for medical reasons. If a resident prefers chicken and pork chops most meals, that's what they get. Preffered snacks too. Good medical staff, onsite barber, room-cleaning, laundry, etc included.
Plenty of friendly residents to sit and watch TV with...
Large enough so that there is generally a new place available each month, so no waiting list. and no fee for being on one.
They go by personal Dr intructions (resident's Drs, not staff Drs). individual for each resident.
I think it is perfect for Dad. I will bring Dad to visit there next week. They will even give him a free haircut and he will like THAT!
I still feel guilty just planning this. Like I'm planning to kick him out of the house. The Morningside House Manager said that was a normal feeling (and I do know that). But it still feels like kicking him out. I know, I know. I'm doing the best I can for him. He has reached the point where he needs more personal care than I can give, and that's the deciding point.
One nice thing is that the Morningside House is right next to the Safeway I shop at. That means that I can visit Dad each week and then do my food shopping. Sounds almost trivial, but having a reason to be RIGHT THERE each week sure makes it part of a routine to visit regularly. And I can bring him treats from the Safeway.
I doubt that the smaller group house is going to impress me tomorrow. But I will give them a fair visit. It might have some advantages. But I doubt it.
I narrowed it down to 2. The one I visited today was a very professional place. The one I will visit tomorrow is a small group home. The place today seems perfect. A personal bedroom/bathroom and community TV rooms, dining rooms, activity rooms, etc. Seriously good onsite health care, transport to local Dr of choice, individual meals at common eating areas, groups living/TV rooms.
Own rooms ranging from 2 in a space to 2 full bedroom apartments. Friendly caring staff, medical assistants onsite 24/7, etc. They can easily move Dad from assisted living to the dementia living area when the time comes.I think this is the place.
I saw the staff checking on the residents in the commom TV room area about how they were doing and did they want any snacks, etc. The staff seemed pleased to be there. No hulking guys to force anyone around.
Personal attention to meal preferences and not just for medical reasons. If a resident prefers chicken and pork chops most meals, that's what they get. Preffered snacks too. Good medical staff, onsite barber, room-cleaning, laundry, etc included.
Plenty of friendly residents to sit and watch TV with...
Large enough so that there is generally a new place available each month, so no waiting list. and no fee for being on one.
They go by personal Dr intructions (resident's Drs, not staff Drs). individual for each resident.
I think it is perfect for Dad. I will bring Dad to visit there next week. They will even give him a free haircut and he will like THAT!
I still feel guilty just planning this. Like I'm planning to kick him out of the house. The Morningside House Manager said that was a normal feeling (and I do know that). But it still feels like kicking him out. I know, I know. I'm doing the best I can for him. He has reached the point where he needs more personal care than I can give, and that's the deciding point.
One nice thing is that the Morningside House is right next to the Safeway I shop at. That means that I can visit Dad each week and then do my food shopping. Sounds almost trivial, but having a reason to be RIGHT THERE each week sure makes it part of a routine to visit regularly. And I can bring him treats from the Safeway.
I doubt that the smaller group house is going to impress me tomorrow. But I will give them a fair visit. It might have some advantages. But I doubt it.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Problems, Problems, Problems
First, as always, I never mean to compare my problems to those who have really SERIOUS problems. I'm generally fortunate on the REALLY BIG PROBLEMS. But problems are problems and I get to complain...
Dad fell again a week ago. One finger was really sore. He never tells me these things at first. It was obvious a finger joint was out of place. So I called his dr and asked what I should do (treatment obviously but I wasn't sure who to go to first). He said to bring dad to him for a referral to the x-ray lab next door. I never get the building right! It is building 11345, and there is a small building between 11340 and 11350. You would THINK that is 11345. It isn't.
So I dropped Dad at the curb and parked the car 100 yards away. When I got back I discovered my error and we had to walk across the enclosure street. And the buildings on THAT side all have the entrances on the backside of the buildings (Is that dumb or what?).
Walking is not one of Dad's good points these days, so we had to walk slowly. A friendly passerby offerred assitance and helped. When we got to the street-side of the building I thought we wanted, I saw a open door, so I brought Dad in there as a shortcut. Someone in there got a wheelchair for Dad and brought us right to the front desk. It was the xray lab!
An assistant there offerred to go next door to the DR and get the referral. I applaud such kind helpful people! Dad got his fingers xrayed and we were told to go home and the DR would call us.
The DR called and said the finger was broken at the joint. Not really serious, just put a popsicle stick on it as a splint with adhesive bandages for a month. It could be taken off for bathing and reattached.
Good Old Dad decided it wasn't worth the bother and it would heal on its own. I considered my options. I could beat him senseless and apply the splint, but he could still take it off on his own. I could drug him and epoxy a splint to his finger. I could try to scare him into allowing the splint.
I opted for trying to scare him into allowing the splint (less chance of me ending up in jail that way). I mentioned immobility from the joint healing fused. I suggested infection. I suggested gangrene. His response was that it didn't seen that bad and he might not live all that long anyway!
The finger is swollen and there are bruises. He refuses to go visit the DR and I can't actually drag him that far. I'll wait watchfully.
Then he fell out of bed last night and landed on the same hand. First time THAT has happened! I got him back into bed. Then spent the next hour awake in my own bed thinking of how to build a bed rail that would keep him from falling out yet allow him to get up to go to the bathroom at night.
But the next morning, I needed to go grocery shopping. No lunchmeat and few veggies.
Remember I brought Iza and Ayla to the vet Tuesday? Well, I forgot to close the back of the SUV after taking the carriers out. The battery was dead! No grocery shopping today...
I did that last year once and the battery wouldn't fully recharge after being jump-started from a boat battery. I had to get a new one. Minor cost, but an annoying process. I HATE sitting around a repair shop (the dealership) for an hour or two while they do a 5 minute job. So I tried recharging this baterry. It got to 63% charged by dinnertime (after the repair shop was closed) and no further! It's dead. And tomorrow is SATURDAY, so they will be super-busy.
I will call them to see if they can replace the battery fast, but I may just go to an auto store and leave the car running while I buy a replacement there. THEN go grocery shopping.
I thought of a couple bed rails I can set up tonight, and I'll do that. Dad is frightened of rolling out of bed again. I also found some nice ones I can buy online and have delivered in a few days. Dad is contradictory about this. Afraid of falling out of bed again, but not willing to allow the more professional bed rail to be purchased.
This MAY be the tipping point of getting him into assisted-living care. But if he won't spend $80 on a convenient fold down bed rail, I doubt he will agree to $5,000/month for assisted living. He would be happier in many ways in assisted living and he can afford it just on his monthly annuity, but he is SO CHEAP! But seriously, he is getting to the point where I can't take care of him as well as professionals could.
Its time I just TELL him that I am going to visit some local assisted living places and see how good they are. And then DO it. I know what he might accept (to the extent that he would accept anything). A simple bedroom/bathroom unit with a kitchenette for snacks, a common TV room where other residents are there to watch TV with and idle chatter, and meals with others on schedule.
I went and checked the battery charger. It was still on 63% after 5 hours. I turned it off and tried the engine. It started right up, so I drove it around for 30 minutes to give it a shot at recharging the battery fully from the engine. Safely in the garage, I turned it on and off twice and it seemed to work fine. I guess I'll just put the 2 boat batteries in the back for possible jump-starting and hope for the best. I still don't trust that battery.
When I got back, I set up the temporary bed rail I thought about for Dad. He griped and fussed that it wasn't perfect (while still fearing falling out AND STILL not wanting a commercial version). He is impossible to please. But that's not new; he's always been that way.
Dad fell again a week ago. One finger was really sore. He never tells me these things at first. It was obvious a finger joint was out of place. So I called his dr and asked what I should do (treatment obviously but I wasn't sure who to go to first). He said to bring dad to him for a referral to the x-ray lab next door. I never get the building right! It is building 11345, and there is a small building between 11340 and 11350. You would THINK that is 11345. It isn't.
So I dropped Dad at the curb and parked the car 100 yards away. When I got back I discovered my error and we had to walk across the enclosure street. And the buildings on THAT side all have the entrances on the backside of the buildings (Is that dumb or what?).
Walking is not one of Dad's good points these days, so we had to walk slowly. A friendly passerby offerred assitance and helped. When we got to the street-side of the building I thought we wanted, I saw a open door, so I brought Dad in there as a shortcut. Someone in there got a wheelchair for Dad and brought us right to the front desk. It was the xray lab!
An assistant there offerred to go next door to the DR and get the referral. I applaud such kind helpful people! Dad got his fingers xrayed and we were told to go home and the DR would call us.
The DR called and said the finger was broken at the joint. Not really serious, just put a popsicle stick on it as a splint with adhesive bandages for a month. It could be taken off for bathing and reattached.
Good Old Dad decided it wasn't worth the bother and it would heal on its own. I considered my options. I could beat him senseless and apply the splint, but he could still take it off on his own. I could drug him and epoxy a splint to his finger. I could try to scare him into allowing the splint.
I opted for trying to scare him into allowing the splint (less chance of me ending up in jail that way). I mentioned immobility from the joint healing fused. I suggested infection. I suggested gangrene. His response was that it didn't seen that bad and he might not live all that long anyway!
The finger is swollen and there are bruises. He refuses to go visit the DR and I can't actually drag him that far. I'll wait watchfully.
Then he fell out of bed last night and landed on the same hand. First time THAT has happened! I got him back into bed. Then spent the next hour awake in my own bed thinking of how to build a bed rail that would keep him from falling out yet allow him to get up to go to the bathroom at night.
But the next morning, I needed to go grocery shopping. No lunchmeat and few veggies.
Remember I brought Iza and Ayla to the vet Tuesday? Well, I forgot to close the back of the SUV after taking the carriers out. The battery was dead! No grocery shopping today...
I did that last year once and the battery wouldn't fully recharge after being jump-started from a boat battery. I had to get a new one. Minor cost, but an annoying process. I HATE sitting around a repair shop (the dealership) for an hour or two while they do a 5 minute job. So I tried recharging this baterry. It got to 63% charged by dinnertime (after the repair shop was closed) and no further! It's dead. And tomorrow is SATURDAY, so they will be super-busy.
I will call them to see if they can replace the battery fast, but I may just go to an auto store and leave the car running while I buy a replacement there. THEN go grocery shopping.
I thought of a couple bed rails I can set up tonight, and I'll do that. Dad is frightened of rolling out of bed again. I also found some nice ones I can buy online and have delivered in a few days. Dad is contradictory about this. Afraid of falling out of bed again, but not willing to allow the more professional bed rail to be purchased.
This MAY be the tipping point of getting him into assisted-living care. But if he won't spend $80 on a convenient fold down bed rail, I doubt he will agree to $5,000/month for assisted living. He would be happier in many ways in assisted living and he can afford it just on his monthly annuity, but he is SO CHEAP! But seriously, he is getting to the point where I can't take care of him as well as professionals could.
Its time I just TELL him that I am going to visit some local assisted living places and see how good they are. And then DO it. I know what he might accept (to the extent that he would accept anything). A simple bedroom/bathroom unit with a kitchenette for snacks, a common TV room where other residents are there to watch TV with and idle chatter, and meals with others on schedule.
I went and checked the battery charger. It was still on 63% after 5 hours. I turned it off and tried the engine. It started right up, so I drove it around for 30 minutes to give it a shot at recharging the battery fully from the engine. Safely in the garage, I turned it on and off twice and it seemed to work fine. I guess I'll just put the 2 boat batteries in the back for possible jump-starting and hope for the best. I still don't trust that battery.
When I got back, I set up the temporary bed rail I thought about for Dad. He griped and fussed that it wasn't perfect (while still fearing falling out AND STILL not wanting a commercial version). He is impossible to please. But that's not new; he's always been that way.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Neediness
Dad has become for needy of my physical presence lately. It's not a new thing, but it has increased the past month.
He has previously been "lonely" if I do not sit with him in front of the TV, and sometimes he has suddenly walked around the house searching for me if he doesn't know where I am. Its annoying. Like the way a Mother can hardly go to the bathroom without toddlers banging on the door...
At least, with toddlers, you can expect them to grow out of it. With an elder, you know it is only going to get worse. It used to be that, if I got involved with yardwork or cleaning the basement, it would be a couple hours before Dad got worried about where I was. I could always tell when I started hearing banging on the floor above going back and forth along the hall rapidly (for him). So I would stop whatever I was doing and go upstairs to let him know I was around, remind him that I had told him I was working in the basement, and see if I could find him something interesting to watch on TV.
Then, I could return to what I was doing for a while with Dad at least remembering where I was in the house for another hour or two.
That time has shrunk to about 30 minutes. I can't get away from him for very long. Its not like I'm "hiding in the basement". The gardening season is starting, and I am way behind in getting the place organized for the new season. In previous years, I have kept the basement relatively organized; this past year, I have just not had the time. It needed hours of cleanup and organization. I have taken all the shortcuts I could since Dad arrived, and it caught up to me!
I've tried to do things an hour at a time, then spend enough time around Dad so that he knew I was there and go back to what I was doing in the basement. I'm worn out...
The other problem that is getting worse is Dad expecting me to go do bed every night when he does. He used to sometimes go to bed after me (and could turn off the lights and TV) .
And, BTW, I just did my 15 minutes of talking to Dad and "watching" his Fox News show, to comfort him with my presence. I don't say that mockingly. He needs a reminder of my presence to feel like he has not been abandoned. Sometimes when I go out grocery-shopping, he is desperate for attention by the time I get back (about 1.5 hours from driving and shopping time).
I spent the last 30 years living by myself (with the various combinations of cats). I LIKE living alone (with cats). I used to just get up at 5 am, feed the cats, shower, dress, drive to meet my carpool, spend 9.5 hours at work, carpool back, drive home (after doing some brief grocery-shopping) by 6 pm. I had 3, maybe 4 hours before I had to go to bed, and I spent a lot of the weekends sleeping. I had to pack everything I wanted to do otherwise into those few weeknight and precious weekend hours. Many of you do too.
I'm not used to accounting for my free time, in spite of so much more than I have now that I am retired. But I was so happy with retired life and here is Dad dropped in... I hate it. I'm a responsible child, I always was (elder child syndrome). I'm doing this because I "have" to. I'm doing this because I should, I'm doing this because its "right", I'm doing this because because I was the right person to do it when the time came. That doesn't mean I like it...
Well, yeah, few people like caring for an elder parent. Its awkward, it changes the routine of life, it's difficult. But am I right that MOST people who care for an elder parent are doing it with help from family? A spouse, local children who visit, some old friends of the elder, your own friends who visit you and relate to the elder parent sometimes?
I don't.
I wish he really needed an "assisted-living facility". He doesn't yet (by my unprofessional guess). But I need him to need it.
I live a rational, knowledgeable life. I don't understand really what it means not to know how to do simple things like open curtains, flush a toilet, separate metal from compostable stuff in different containers, read a simple 1099 tax document or a monthly bank statement, etc. Answering the same questions about those things every single day is driving me nuts. Sometimes, it is the same question 3 times in 15 minutes...
Nothing in my entire life has prepared me for this.
He has previously been "lonely" if I do not sit with him in front of the TV, and sometimes he has suddenly walked around the house searching for me if he doesn't know where I am. Its annoying. Like the way a Mother can hardly go to the bathroom without toddlers banging on the door...
At least, with toddlers, you can expect them to grow out of it. With an elder, you know it is only going to get worse. It used to be that, if I got involved with yardwork or cleaning the basement, it would be a couple hours before Dad got worried about where I was. I could always tell when I started hearing banging on the floor above going back and forth along the hall rapidly (for him). So I would stop whatever I was doing and go upstairs to let him know I was around, remind him that I had told him I was working in the basement, and see if I could find him something interesting to watch on TV.
Then, I could return to what I was doing for a while with Dad at least remembering where I was in the house for another hour or two.
That time has shrunk to about 30 minutes. I can't get away from him for very long. Its not like I'm "hiding in the basement". The gardening season is starting, and I am way behind in getting the place organized for the new season. In previous years, I have kept the basement relatively organized; this past year, I have just not had the time. It needed hours of cleanup and organization. I have taken all the shortcuts I could since Dad arrived, and it caught up to me!
I've tried to do things an hour at a time, then spend enough time around Dad so that he knew I was there and go back to what I was doing in the basement. I'm worn out...
The other problem that is getting worse is Dad expecting me to go do bed every night when he does. He used to sometimes go to bed after me (and could turn off the lights and TV) .
And, BTW, I just did my 15 minutes of talking to Dad and "watching" his Fox News show, to comfort him with my presence. I don't say that mockingly. He needs a reminder of my presence to feel like he has not been abandoned. Sometimes when I go out grocery-shopping, he is desperate for attention by the time I get back (about 1.5 hours from driving and shopping time).
I spent the last 30 years living by myself (with the various combinations of cats). I LIKE living alone (with cats). I used to just get up at 5 am, feed the cats, shower, dress, drive to meet my carpool, spend 9.5 hours at work, carpool back, drive home (after doing some brief grocery-shopping) by 6 pm. I had 3, maybe 4 hours before I had to go to bed, and I spent a lot of the weekends sleeping. I had to pack everything I wanted to do otherwise into those few weeknight and precious weekend hours. Many of you do too.
I'm not used to accounting for my free time, in spite of so much more than I have now that I am retired. But I was so happy with retired life and here is Dad dropped in... I hate it. I'm a responsible child, I always was (elder child syndrome). I'm doing this because I "have" to. I'm doing this because I should, I'm doing this because its "right", I'm doing this because because I was the right person to do it when the time came. That doesn't mean I like it...
Well, yeah, few people like caring for an elder parent. Its awkward, it changes the routine of life, it's difficult. But am I right that MOST people who care for an elder parent are doing it with help from family? A spouse, local children who visit, some old friends of the elder, your own friends who visit you and relate to the elder parent sometimes?
I don't.
I wish he really needed an "assisted-living facility". He doesn't yet (by my unprofessional guess). But I need him to need it.
I live a rational, knowledgeable life. I don't understand really what it means not to know how to do simple things like open curtains, flush a toilet, separate metal from compostable stuff in different containers, read a simple 1099 tax document or a monthly bank statement, etc. Answering the same questions about those things every single day is driving me nuts. Sometimes, it is the same question 3 times in 15 minutes...
Nothing in my entire life has prepared me for this.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Going Nuts
Tap, tap tap... I shouldn't have let it in. Tap, tap, tap. Tap tap tap...
It's like the story of The Telltale Heart. That relentless tapping coming down the hallway.
I can't stand it. It's from the elder. Coming tapping, tapping, tapping down the hall.
To me. There is no escaping it when the tapping comes down the hall...
The tapping of the cane lasts 10 minutes. 10 relentless minutes... Its like Chinese Water Torture...
Its the dreaded elderly Dad coming tap, tap, tapping toward my computer room at the far end of the house. The long endless tapping of the cane through the seemingly endless hallway. Dreadful, like a heart beating too slowly, like a too-loud clock, like a moonbeam crepping slowly across a window. Relentless in the approach...
And FINALLY, a forehead shows up in the doorway. "Are you there", he asks knowing full well that I am. "Are you going to be in there all night" and he knows I will be. Because I prefer to be on the computer rather than sit my butt in front of the TV all day and night like he does. He doesn't understand anything better do do than sit his butt in the chair in front of the TV.
I spend my whole cleaning house, taking care of the cats, talking to him, repairing things, talking to him, doing yardwork, talking to him, making meals, talking to him, grocery-shopping, running errands for his medications, etc, etc, etc etc, etc, etc, etc. And he just wants me to sit and watch TV with him all day every day and can't imagine why I wouldn't. Well, there aren't 30 hours in a day, and I have a life of my own. Not that Dad thinks so. What I do seems of no value to him.
Well, he's nuts!
When we disagree on facts, he is always wrong. He can't help but be at 90. His mind isn't working well. And I mean the simplest of facts. Day, date, time, game scores. He can't see anything straight these days.
My sister says to let everything go, pretend he is right, just toss it off. That's not me; I can't. I don't have the "family experience" to do that.
The problem is that he isn't yet nuts enough to require an assisted-living facility. And that's why I am going nuts...
It's like the story of The Telltale Heart. That relentless tapping coming down the hallway.
I can't stand it. It's from the elder. Coming tapping, tapping, tapping down the hall.
To me. There is no escaping it when the tapping comes down the hall...
The tapping of the cane lasts 10 minutes. 10 relentless minutes... Its like Chinese Water Torture...
Its the dreaded elderly Dad coming tap, tap, tapping toward my computer room at the far end of the house. The long endless tapping of the cane through the seemingly endless hallway. Dreadful, like a heart beating too slowly, like a too-loud clock, like a moonbeam crepping slowly across a window. Relentless in the approach...
And FINALLY, a forehead shows up in the doorway. "Are you there", he asks knowing full well that I am. "Are you going to be in there all night" and he knows I will be. Because I prefer to be on the computer rather than sit my butt in front of the TV all day and night like he does. He doesn't understand anything better do do than sit his butt in the chair in front of the TV.
I spend my whole cleaning house, taking care of the cats, talking to him, repairing things, talking to him, doing yardwork, talking to him, making meals, talking to him, grocery-shopping, running errands for his medications, etc, etc, etc etc, etc, etc, etc. And he just wants me to sit and watch TV with him all day every day and can't imagine why I wouldn't. Well, there aren't 30 hours in a day, and I have a life of my own. Not that Dad thinks so. What I do seems of no value to him.
Well, he's nuts!
When we disagree on facts, he is always wrong. He can't help but be at 90. His mind isn't working well. And I mean the simplest of facts. Day, date, time, game scores. He can't see anything straight these days.
My sister says to let everything go, pretend he is right, just toss it off. That's not me; I can't. I don't have the "family experience" to do that.
The problem is that he isn't yet nuts enough to require an assisted-living facility. And that's why I am going nuts...
Friday, December 14, 2012
Dad Again
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...
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...
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...
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...
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