Thursday was an emotionally draining day, leaving me in an emotional hangover Friday. I overslept, showered, and was up just in time to see dad's hospice nurse, about 11:30 or so. She is an angel for sure. She came Thursday with a balloon and a hug for my dad to celebrate his birthday.
My Aunt Sela, dad's younger sister, called to wish him a happy birthday. I handed him the phone, told him who it was, and he proceeded to say, "Hello, witch!" Mom and I both turned and looked at each other quizically. Apparently my Grandma, his mother, got on the phone because we hear him say, "Hello, mother of witches!" I mouth, "what is he talking about" to my mother who shrugs in shared disbelief. Pretty soon he is getting irritated becaues he can't hear. I look to see if his hearing aids are in, they are, however, the phone receiver is on his cheek and the mouth piece is by his neck. I rush over and pull the phone up as he's saying, "hello? hello?" then "that's better, I can hear you now, must be the connection."
He was very happy about all of his cards, messages, phone calls, gifts, etc. He got worn out pretty fast. He had to use the bathroom and has been insistant about using the real bathroom, so he has to walk through three rooms to get there. I stand up and walk behind him just to make sure if he becomes unsteady, someone is there to catch him. He sees me coming and starts singing, "Goin to the party, and I'm gonna get snookered", to the tune of Chapel of Love. I shake my head and laugh.
He went to bed only to get up shortly after and come into the living room with a puzzled look on his face. "What's wrong, dad?" I ask. He looks around and says he heard his mother talking and didn't want to miss seeing her. "Is she outside?" dad asks. You can not act like what he is saying is strange or he gets frustrated, you must play along. "No, she went home, remember? I will look outside and make sure though." I open the front door and peek around the porch. He looks around the entry way and waves his hand dismissively and retreats back to his bedroom.
Back to Friday...Deb, his nurse, has washed his hair and is setting up his pill box. Dad, mom, and I are in the living room chatting. I compliment his clean, combed hair and he smiles. The last time it was crazy looking, I gently combed his hair with my hand to put it in place and he started flapping his arms around at my hands and himself. He reminded me of a monkey I saw at the zoo one time that didn't like when my brother jumped at it and it went crazy rubbing its hands all over its body like it was trying to get ants off.
Pretty soon, Tasha, my parents lab/shepard mix comes in. She has been very concerned with my dad, as she was more "his dog". Her food bowl is set by the foot of his chair and she eats when he sits there. He just got this soft expression and called her to him. My mom and I didn't speak, just watched as he started lowering himself out of the chair and sort of falls on all fours, lowering himself to the ground. Immediately she comes and sniffs his face as he begins rubbing her thick fur. He pushes her down so she is laying side by side with him and she makes these low pitched growling noises, her tail wagging with content. There is a short lived connection, the boy and his dog, until Angel, the mother of Tasha, comes in the room with a disapproving look in her eye. Tasha hesitantly gets up and walks away. "Thanks a lot, Angel," my dad says and painstakingly gets back into his chair. We were all impressed that he did it without help!
That seems to be a trend, too. Each day is different. One day he sleeps the entire time, the next he is able to amble around, and the next day his cognitive function seems restored. He has tried to watch Conan the Barbarian at least four times in the last few days. He falls asleep or forgets that he's watched it, and it just seems to be playing continuously in the living room, until mom turns the tv off.
Dad wanted to get on the laptop and pay some bills, figure out some financial stuff he'd been thinking about. My mom told me to make sure he was monitored when he did that. My dad's head perks up, "what about a turd?" "Monitored," my mom repeats slowly. I could see the twinkle in his eye, "A monoturd..that is one turd..unlike a duoturd, that's two turds." I look at him seriously and say, "Dad you are full of shit!" We all had a giggle.
I did get the laptop set up for him as he scrounged up some papers. He was banging a calculator around muttering, "Damn kids, playing with my stuff." I look over, as it was a new calculator, and pushed the on button for him. No more was said.
I didn't "monitor" him, but I observed as he stared very intently at the computer working through whatever was in his head. A little while later, he packed up the papers and said everything was done, that my mom was doing a good job at the finances, he just needed her to keep better track of receipts. I figure this was his way of expressing that he is still responsible and doing his job as well as giving my mom credit, not too much because he is still needed.
Later that afternoon, he was sitting in his recliner watching tv (thankfully not Conan the Barbarian this time), and just said he felt peaceful. He had a cup of coffee and these chocolate covered acai and blueberry treats his friend had sent him. He said they were just so good and again he just felt peaceful. I was peaceful just watching and listening to him. About an hour later he said he was having horrible pain on his right side, right about where his tumor laden liver is located. My poor mother was taking a nap as I know she is physically and mentally exhausted. I had to wake her up to ask which pill to give him. I found it, he took it, and she was able to sleep awhile longer.
It is sad, heartbreaking, and sometimes hilariously funny the things my dad says. Usually it is while he is asleep and wakes up asking or telling us some bizarre things. I'm sure it has a lot to do with the morphine. Here are some examples:
*Mom heard him talking in his "bedroom". He had his hand by his ear like his cell phone was in his hand (thankfully it was not) and was demanding to know where his pizza was. He had ordered it ages ago and he wanted it now!
*He told me that my mom was yelling at him all night about the contractors coming this week to do work on the house. Oh, and that she was crying about missing Michael. (??) She denied all of it.
*Dad said there are things in the room that try to pull him off the bed and he can hear them talking all the time.
*Alice (my parents friendly ghost) has visited several times! Apparently she rubs his back, taps on his shoulder, or just glides by to say hello. Now this one hits home for me, because as crazy as I may sound, I have seen her with my own eyes. When my parents first bought their house, my son, neice, and I were sitting at the dining room table eating popsicles. It was a typical muggy, hot early summer day in Kansas. All of a sudden I saw something in the living room that caught my eye. Following my gaze, Adam and Amanda saw just what I did. It was a full body apparition of a very short woman. She was like a white cloud with distinct human features. She walked from the entry way through the CLOSED door of what is now dads "bedroom". We just sat there staring at eachother, our popsicles melting down our hands. A few minutes later, my mom and ex-sister in law walk in the house and we went running to them telling them what had just happened.
Interesting sidenote: my parents house was built at the turn of the 20th century on an old cemetary! Of course they didn't know that then, their nosy daughter did some research and found this out while my dad was gone on TDY. My mother was less than pleased at this discovery. I got to go home, she had to live here. There are many Alice stories, they may need their own blog. :)
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Thursday, December 1st
Today is my dad's official birthday. 65 years ago my dad was born in Utah. My Great Grandma helped deliver him to my Grandma on the farm. I am so thankful for that..that he was made to be my father..that I came into existence.
My entire life though I have heard him say he would only live to be 65. His father and Grandfather died at 65, so he seemed it only sensible that he would too. Of course, I didn't believe this at all, just coincidence..or they drank alcohol..smoked..had environmental factors that attributed to their untimely death. My Dad, special forces, PT every morning, even doing pushups and sit ups after it was necessary, rarely drank, never smoked, didn't have the environmental factors, still faces his mortality at 65. They say his ancestors died of liver cancer..well his cancer metastasized from his pancreas to his liver..who is to say the other family members didn't have pancreatic cancer that spread to the liver. Either way, the VA recognized it two years ago and didn't say anything to my dad, cause they assumed it was a fatty liver..from drinking. My dad didn't drink!!!!! Damn....woulda, coulda, shoulda...
Anyway, I had things written down to write about my father tonight.
Instead, tonight is dedicated to my grandma. My mom's mom...Rose Elaine Serr Thompson...died today. What a blow. She also had cancer. But unfortunately for me, we were estranged, so I don't know much of the details of her health before she died. My uncle and cousin kept me afloat, which I dearly appreciate. My uncle called tonight to share the news of her passing. I know she and I were not close. I always wanted that. We were raised military and never had that close bond with a lot of family. It just never happened. I loved her as my grandmother, the matriarch of my family, the subject of many stories I had heard, but never really got to know her. My own fault I know.
But right now with all considered..it is my mom's mom...and with her husband's fate already in the unknown..I grieve. My mom has been strong and I know she will continue to be. But no matter how old you are, how close you were, when you lose your mother, I imagine it inconsolable...especially when your only confidante can't comprehend what you are talking about.
Anyway...I love you Grandma..and I thank you for all the memories I have. I know you are pain free and in a better place. I hope to see you again someday.
Thank you Chris and Philip for being there tonight. I appreciate the support very much!
My entire life though I have heard him say he would only live to be 65. His father and Grandfather died at 65, so he seemed it only sensible that he would too. Of course, I didn't believe this at all, just coincidence..or they drank alcohol..smoked..had environmental factors that attributed to their untimely death. My Dad, special forces, PT every morning, even doing pushups and sit ups after it was necessary, rarely drank, never smoked, didn't have the environmental factors, still faces his mortality at 65. They say his ancestors died of liver cancer..well his cancer metastasized from his pancreas to his liver..who is to say the other family members didn't have pancreatic cancer that spread to the liver. Either way, the VA recognized it two years ago and didn't say anything to my dad, cause they assumed it was a fatty liver..from drinking. My dad didn't drink!!!!! Damn....woulda, coulda, shoulda...
Anyway, I had things written down to write about my father tonight.
Instead, tonight is dedicated to my grandma. My mom's mom...Rose Elaine Serr Thompson...died today. What a blow. She also had cancer. But unfortunately for me, we were estranged, so I don't know much of the details of her health before she died. My uncle and cousin kept me afloat, which I dearly appreciate. My uncle called tonight to share the news of her passing. I know she and I were not close. I always wanted that. We were raised military and never had that close bond with a lot of family. It just never happened. I loved her as my grandmother, the matriarch of my family, the subject of many stories I had heard, but never really got to know her. My own fault I know.
But right now with all considered..it is my mom's mom...and with her husband's fate already in the unknown..I grieve. My mom has been strong and I know she will continue to be. But no matter how old you are, how close you were, when you lose your mother, I imagine it inconsolable...especially when your only confidante can't comprehend what you are talking about.
Anyway...I love you Grandma..and I thank you for all the memories I have. I know you are pain free and in a better place. I hope to see you again someday.
Thank you Chris and Philip for being there tonight. I appreciate the support very much!
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Wednesday, November 30th
After yesterday, I was pleasantly surprised to see my dad so alert today! He woke up this morning and immediately requested pudding. I went to the fridge and brought him a cup of tapioca and a spoon. Thinking hard, he looked at it and then me and said, "No. I want the big bowl of chocolate pudding, you know, the stuff your mom makes." He had finished that yesterday. "Big bowl..big bowl", he keeps repeating. He agrees to wait a little while so mom can make some more.
He asked for my mom to come in and help him get up. She obliged happily. So as not to embarrass either of them, I will just say he is as frisky as ever and I left the room laughing. Crazy kids! Some things never change! :)
Dad was pretty happy today, sitting in his chair, watching t.v., making conversation. He napped on and off between his hospital bed and his chair.
We decided since everyone would be up today, we would celebrate his birthday, which is tomorrow, December 1st. So I took the opportunity to get out of the house for a little while. Mom had it covered.
I did not realize how much I needed some fresh air. As soon as I got in the car, I turned on my music (and for those of you who know me well, it has to be nice and loud), rolled down the window, and hit the streets of Clay Center. Those of you who know Clay Center know that it only took five minutes to get across town..so I went back and forth through uncontrolled intersections and a little roadwork a few times before hitting the stores.
My list contained simple items; pudding, milk, etc.. But I was in charge of getting a few gifts and a cake for my dad's celebration. Easy, right? That's what I thought, too. I went to the first store, list in hand, ready to find my dad a gift. He has always been kind of easy to shop for, although it's gotten harder over the years for a guy who has everything! Then it hit me. What do I get a man who is hardly mobile, has a limited diet, sleeps most of the time, and tries his best to stay awake and alert in conversation? Oh, my God...what could I possibly get my dying father for his birthday? It hit like somebody punched me in the stomach. Then I became aware of the Christmas music playing over the store speakers. I became aware of all the decorations and crappy festive crap they sell this time of year. I started getting irritable and angry. I bought myself a t-shirt that was on clearance. I thought my dad might like it, but it didn't have a pocket (he likes it for his hankies), so for $7 I have a Jesse James shirt.
Then I went to another store. I really thought something would stand out and call my name. Again, I found myself surround by horrible Christmas Muzak, cheesy decorations, a flood of people in camouflage, and a friendly enough elderly lady asking if I needed help finding something. It came out of my mouth, "Tomorrow is my dad's birthday, and I need to find a gift. He has end stage pancreatic cancer." Poor lady...she said, "Yes that is hard." She rang me up in silence. I respected that silence.
Finally, I ended up at the grocery store. A nice man held the door open for me, I grabbed a cart, tried to find my bearings in the store, found the pudding aisle....and all of a sudden, just lost it. I tried to fight the tears back, I mean for God's sake, who cries over pudding!? I couldn't help it, they came. I do not carry tissue (although I should probably start), so my sleeve was my best friend. I wiped the tears as I grabbed milk, trying to avoid eye contact with other store patrons. I ended up in the frozen food section, no one around, talking out loud to myself to get it together, just stop it. The more I tried to stop, the worse it got. All I could think about is this is the last time I will buy a cake for my dad, the last time we sing happy birthday to him. What do I do? Do I buy him a spectacular cake, he can't eat it anyway. I was at a loss!! I finally found my way to the deli counter and asked if they had birthday cakes. Mind you, this is while trying to keep a steady voice, tears escaping my eyes, and me wiping at them like I'm the only one that can see them. She points to the very obvious freezer that says CAKES right on it. I take some deep breaths, pick out the best one I can find, and return to the deli counter to have it personalized. Again, my damn brain takes over with those maybe 20 steps from freezer to counter. What do you write on someone's cake when it's their last birthday? Happy Birthday, It's been fun, good luck, love you, save us a seat? I know it sounds sarcastic and maybe a little twisted, but this is what my mind does to me..imagine being in MY head! So once again, the dam burst and I'm trying to articulate something to the bakery lady. I finally muster something to the effect that it's my dad's last birthday and I need it to say...something. I felt compelled to explain myself because of my odd behavior! She wasn't as understanding..so still swiping away at my face I tell her just write Happy 65th Birthday. She complied.
I ended up buying a few mylar balloons. I couldn't remember ever having bought him balloons. I found a cap gun..who doesn't love a cap gun? Mom had suggested getting him food. I did find two packages of cookies I thought he might like.
Upon checking out, I was reminded of the time I went grocery shopping with dad and had that "feeling" to buy a scratch ticket. I normally don't buy those. He suggested buying $10 worth. So he let me pick them out and when we got in the car we eagerly began scratching with our coins. I didn't get anything. Dad asks me to look at his and see if he won. Are you kidding me!? He won $4,000!!! Off a dollar scratch ticket! That was awesome! I went in with him so the lady could scan it because he didn't believe me. Sure enough, she verified it and he had to go to Topeka to collect his winnings. So I went to the customer service desk and bought him some scratch tickets..for old times sake.
Tammy, Scott's girlfriend, went to the store and picked up a chicken dinner so we didn't have to cook. Poor dad thought he could at least have the sides, but everything tasted too bitter to him. So he ate a roll. We ate dinner and surprised him with his gifts. His best friend, Don Burton and his wife Nancy, sent him a care package full of goodies. He was thrilled of course! Then he opened the gifts we had picked out for him. Scott and Tammy got him new handkerchiefs (he loves those). I could tell which cookies he liked, he set one pack by him and offered the other ones for everyone to share. :) Then he saw the scratch tickets, got his glasses on, asked for his pocket knife (he's retired Special Forces, he's not going to use a coin, would Rambo?), and began scratching away. I think he got two done before he tuckered out. He said he'd finish the rest later.
We lit the candles for his cake, sang happy birthday, and watched him blow out every one! He tasted the cake, and it just didn't taste good to him. He said he was tired and he went down for a nap. A few hours later he got up and watched a movie. I hear him right now brushing his teeth. Funny how one day he barely moves, then the next he has this energy and can move around the house with little help. I told him to be careful coming out of the bathroom because he chose the harder route. He answered, "That's what they just said." Hmm?? "Who's that Dad? Was it Mom?" "No, it was that other person back there." He stops and looks at me, "I love you babe." "I love you too, Dad!" "Thanks for coming to visit today." "You're welcome, I had fun!" Guess he didn't remember I have been staying here every day.
Today was a very emotionally draining day. It made me thankful to be here and have the opportunity to celebrate one more birthday with my dad, especially with all the family here. Not many will understand this, but I don't know what I would have done today without the love of horses!
He asked for my mom to come in and help him get up. She obliged happily. So as not to embarrass either of them, I will just say he is as frisky as ever and I left the room laughing. Crazy kids! Some things never change! :)
Dad was pretty happy today, sitting in his chair, watching t.v., making conversation. He napped on and off between his hospital bed and his chair.
We decided since everyone would be up today, we would celebrate his birthday, which is tomorrow, December 1st. So I took the opportunity to get out of the house for a little while. Mom had it covered.
I did not realize how much I needed some fresh air. As soon as I got in the car, I turned on my music (and for those of you who know me well, it has to be nice and loud), rolled down the window, and hit the streets of Clay Center. Those of you who know Clay Center know that it only took five minutes to get across town..so I went back and forth through uncontrolled intersections and a little roadwork a few times before hitting the stores.
My list contained simple items; pudding, milk, etc.. But I was in charge of getting a few gifts and a cake for my dad's celebration. Easy, right? That's what I thought, too. I went to the first store, list in hand, ready to find my dad a gift. He has always been kind of easy to shop for, although it's gotten harder over the years for a guy who has everything! Then it hit me. What do I get a man who is hardly mobile, has a limited diet, sleeps most of the time, and tries his best to stay awake and alert in conversation? Oh, my God...what could I possibly get my dying father for his birthday? It hit like somebody punched me in the stomach. Then I became aware of the Christmas music playing over the store speakers. I became aware of all the decorations and crappy festive crap they sell this time of year. I started getting irritable and angry. I bought myself a t-shirt that was on clearance. I thought my dad might like it, but it didn't have a pocket (he likes it for his hankies), so for $7 I have a Jesse James shirt.
Then I went to another store. I really thought something would stand out and call my name. Again, I found myself surround by horrible Christmas Muzak, cheesy decorations, a flood of people in camouflage, and a friendly enough elderly lady asking if I needed help finding something. It came out of my mouth, "Tomorrow is my dad's birthday, and I need to find a gift. He has end stage pancreatic cancer." Poor lady...she said, "Yes that is hard." She rang me up in silence. I respected that silence.
Finally, I ended up at the grocery store. A nice man held the door open for me, I grabbed a cart, tried to find my bearings in the store, found the pudding aisle....and all of a sudden, just lost it. I tried to fight the tears back, I mean for God's sake, who cries over pudding!? I couldn't help it, they came. I do not carry tissue (although I should probably start), so my sleeve was my best friend. I wiped the tears as I grabbed milk, trying to avoid eye contact with other store patrons. I ended up in the frozen food section, no one around, talking out loud to myself to get it together, just stop it. The more I tried to stop, the worse it got. All I could think about is this is the last time I will buy a cake for my dad, the last time we sing happy birthday to him. What do I do? Do I buy him a spectacular cake, he can't eat it anyway. I was at a loss!! I finally found my way to the deli counter and asked if they had birthday cakes. Mind you, this is while trying to keep a steady voice, tears escaping my eyes, and me wiping at them like I'm the only one that can see them. She points to the very obvious freezer that says CAKES right on it. I take some deep breaths, pick out the best one I can find, and return to the deli counter to have it personalized. Again, my damn brain takes over with those maybe 20 steps from freezer to counter. What do you write on someone's cake when it's their last birthday? Happy Birthday, It's been fun, good luck, love you, save us a seat? I know it sounds sarcastic and maybe a little twisted, but this is what my mind does to me..imagine being in MY head! So once again, the dam burst and I'm trying to articulate something to the bakery lady. I finally muster something to the effect that it's my dad's last birthday and I need it to say...something. I felt compelled to explain myself because of my odd behavior! She wasn't as understanding..so still swiping away at my face I tell her just write Happy 65th Birthday. She complied.
I ended up buying a few mylar balloons. I couldn't remember ever having bought him balloons. I found a cap gun..who doesn't love a cap gun? Mom had suggested getting him food. I did find two packages of cookies I thought he might like.
Upon checking out, I was reminded of the time I went grocery shopping with dad and had that "feeling" to buy a scratch ticket. I normally don't buy those. He suggested buying $10 worth. So he let me pick them out and when we got in the car we eagerly began scratching with our coins. I didn't get anything. Dad asks me to look at his and see if he won. Are you kidding me!? He won $4,000!!! Off a dollar scratch ticket! That was awesome! I went in with him so the lady could scan it because he didn't believe me. Sure enough, she verified it and he had to go to Topeka to collect his winnings. So I went to the customer service desk and bought him some scratch tickets..for old times sake.
Tammy, Scott's girlfriend, went to the store and picked up a chicken dinner so we didn't have to cook. Poor dad thought he could at least have the sides, but everything tasted too bitter to him. So he ate a roll. We ate dinner and surprised him with his gifts. His best friend, Don Burton and his wife Nancy, sent him a care package full of goodies. He was thrilled of course! Then he opened the gifts we had picked out for him. Scott and Tammy got him new handkerchiefs (he loves those). I could tell which cookies he liked, he set one pack by him and offered the other ones for everyone to share. :) Then he saw the scratch tickets, got his glasses on, asked for his pocket knife (he's retired Special Forces, he's not going to use a coin, would Rambo?), and began scratching away. I think he got two done before he tuckered out. He said he'd finish the rest later.
We lit the candles for his cake, sang happy birthday, and watched him blow out every one! He tasted the cake, and it just didn't taste good to him. He said he was tired and he went down for a nap. A few hours later he got up and watched a movie. I hear him right now brushing his teeth. Funny how one day he barely moves, then the next he has this energy and can move around the house with little help. I told him to be careful coming out of the bathroom because he chose the harder route. He answered, "That's what they just said." Hmm?? "Who's that Dad? Was it Mom?" "No, it was that other person back there." He stops and looks at me, "I love you babe." "I love you too, Dad!" "Thanks for coming to visit today." "You're welcome, I had fun!" Guess he didn't remember I have been staying here every day.
Today was a very emotionally draining day. It made me thankful to be here and have the opportunity to celebrate one more birthday with my dad, especially with all the family here. Not many will understand this, but I don't know what I would have done today without the love of horses!
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Tuesday, November 29th
Dad was in a pretty silly mood last night. I heard him shuffling around and followed him into the kitchen. He was looking for something and cussing up a storm. I couldn't help but laugh because my father doesn't normally swear like that. He saw me come in and apologized. I said, "It doesn't bother me, dad, didn't you know your daughter was a sailor?" He responded, "My daughter is in the F***ing Navy?" Now how can you not laugh at that!
He was complaining that his back was itchy. Mom keeps lotion at hand to make sure he is comfortable.
I remembered seeing this telescopic back scratcher somewhere before. He had duct taped a sharpie pen to the end. When I asked him why he did this, he took the lid off and drew on Brody's nose with the pole fully extended. Poor guy was just as confused as I was...haha
We finally found it and dad happily allowed me to scratch his back. (After the removal of the sharpie marker and having used his gerber pliers to bend the prongs into the right position) Dad started complaining about gas pain in his tummy, so I told him what my friend had told me that you lay on your left side and it will relieve it. All I can say is I should have known better than to have left the room. I hear a loud bang noise and mom says dad fell again. I come back in the room and apparently he wanted to lay on the floor, so he just let himself fall out of the chair and lay on the floor so he could be on his left side. We have to remind him that he can tell us what he's doing or even ask for a little assistance. Within minutes he yells, "Look out it's coming!" and is scrambling to his feet. We help him up and he shuffles as fast as he can to the bathroom. He comes back to his chair, gets up and is mumbling about finding the back scratcher again. I follow him to the bathroom looking around for it. By this time I am laughing uncontrollably, he asks me to stop laughing at him. I tell him it is not him, I just make myself laugh. I finally spotted it in the trash can and brought it to him.
He was having a nice time talking to mom and I about different things. All of a sudden he is trying to think of a comedian.."you know, Allen" "Tim Allen?" "no..you know Allen." Allen Thicke, Allan Alda?" "no..you know what's that comedian that came out of the watermelon?" Again, my laughter returns...no idea what funny allen came from a melon.
Tammy, my brother's girlfriend, brought over a twin mattress I was able to put on the cot for mom. They seemed to be set.
I went over to my brother's house and stayed up pretty late. I woke up at 7 am though and came downstairs for the usual morning coffee routine. I heard that familiar shuffling of feet heading my way. My dad is standing there with no cane with a look of surprise on his face. "Whatcha doin Dad?" I ask. He replies, "Is that you honking?" Immediately I feel the giggle rising in my chest. "Honking?" "Yea, someone's going around honking their horn in the house." I just helped him turn around and suggested he go back to sleep. He saw my mom and said softly, "Aww Connie is still asleep. Yea, I think I'll lay back down for a bit."
About 10 o'clock my eyes started burning from the lack of sleep..nobody had stirred in the parents room, so I went and took a nap. Of course when I get up my mom says dad was up the entire time. He hasn't eaten yet today and just seems very tired.
Yesterday mom and I were talking and she brought up how hard it is to accept some of the changes that are arising. She realized how now when things happen she has no one to share it with. Something funny or worrisome she would always go straight to my dad, her confidante, best friend, partner in life. Now she has to see if he even understands what she is saying or explaining it to where it no longer makes sense. It breaks my heart for them. Dad gets gruff with her when he is trying to explain something that she doesn't understand. What you can not mistake however, is the look of love in their eyes, recognition of their other half before them, and the softness both of their faces hold in a brief moment of time. How lucky for me to see.
I had a dream a few months ago that I was kind of a fly on the wall in my parents house. My dad had passed away and my mom was walking around the empty house trying to figure out what to do, she just went back to bed. I had the worst weight of sadness when I woke up. I have had many vivid dreams, my subconcious trying to make sense out of my feelings and worries. I've dreamt of his obituary. I have seen him in a coffin, but his face that of when he was probably 40. I had another where he was just about to die and I was across town with no car, extreme wind, and a parade, trying to remember how to get back. When I got there everyone was there but me.
I need to find an opportunity soon when dad is awake and cognitive so we can finish his paperwork. He told me on Thanksgiving its been bugging him and he knows he has been procrastinating, aren't we all. We will see how tonight goes after sleeping all day, or maybe tomorrow.
He was complaining that his back was itchy. Mom keeps lotion at hand to make sure he is comfortable.
I remembered seeing this telescopic back scratcher somewhere before. He had duct taped a sharpie pen to the end. When I asked him why he did this, he took the lid off and drew on Brody's nose with the pole fully extended. Poor guy was just as confused as I was...haha
We finally found it and dad happily allowed me to scratch his back. (After the removal of the sharpie marker and having used his gerber pliers to bend the prongs into the right position) Dad started complaining about gas pain in his tummy, so I told him what my friend had told me that you lay on your left side and it will relieve it. All I can say is I should have known better than to have left the room. I hear a loud bang noise and mom says dad fell again. I come back in the room and apparently he wanted to lay on the floor, so he just let himself fall out of the chair and lay on the floor so he could be on his left side. We have to remind him that he can tell us what he's doing or even ask for a little assistance. Within minutes he yells, "Look out it's coming!" and is scrambling to his feet. We help him up and he shuffles as fast as he can to the bathroom. He comes back to his chair, gets up and is mumbling about finding the back scratcher again. I follow him to the bathroom looking around for it. By this time I am laughing uncontrollably, he asks me to stop laughing at him. I tell him it is not him, I just make myself laugh. I finally spotted it in the trash can and brought it to him.
He was having a nice time talking to mom and I about different things. All of a sudden he is trying to think of a comedian.."you know, Allen" "Tim Allen?" "no..you know Allen." Allen Thicke, Allan Alda?" "no..you know what's that comedian that came out of the watermelon?" Again, my laughter returns...no idea what funny allen came from a melon.
Tammy, my brother's girlfriend, brought over a twin mattress I was able to put on the cot for mom. They seemed to be set.
I went over to my brother's house and stayed up pretty late. I woke up at 7 am though and came downstairs for the usual morning coffee routine. I heard that familiar shuffling of feet heading my way. My dad is standing there with no cane with a look of surprise on his face. "Whatcha doin Dad?" I ask. He replies, "Is that you honking?" Immediately I feel the giggle rising in my chest. "Honking?" "Yea, someone's going around honking their horn in the house." I just helped him turn around and suggested he go back to sleep. He saw my mom and said softly, "Aww Connie is still asleep. Yea, I think I'll lay back down for a bit."
About 10 o'clock my eyes started burning from the lack of sleep..nobody had stirred in the parents room, so I went and took a nap. Of course when I get up my mom says dad was up the entire time. He hasn't eaten yet today and just seems very tired.
Yesterday mom and I were talking and she brought up how hard it is to accept some of the changes that are arising. She realized how now when things happen she has no one to share it with. Something funny or worrisome she would always go straight to my dad, her confidante, best friend, partner in life. Now she has to see if he even understands what she is saying or explaining it to where it no longer makes sense. It breaks my heart for them. Dad gets gruff with her when he is trying to explain something that she doesn't understand. What you can not mistake however, is the look of love in their eyes, recognition of their other half before them, and the softness both of their faces hold in a brief moment of time. How lucky for me to see.
I had a dream a few months ago that I was kind of a fly on the wall in my parents house. My dad had passed away and my mom was walking around the empty house trying to figure out what to do, she just went back to bed. I had the worst weight of sadness when I woke up. I have had many vivid dreams, my subconcious trying to make sense out of my feelings and worries. I've dreamt of his obituary. I have seen him in a coffin, but his face that of when he was probably 40. I had another where he was just about to die and I was across town with no car, extreme wind, and a parade, trying to remember how to get back. When I got there everyone was there but me.
I need to find an opportunity soon when dad is awake and cognitive so we can finish his paperwork. He told me on Thanksgiving its been bugging him and he knows he has been procrastinating, aren't we all. We will see how tonight goes after sleeping all day, or maybe tomorrow.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Monday, November 28th
Today is the first day of helping my mom care for my dad in Clay Center.
Yesterday I was so scared to leave my house. I already started missing my kids, I had that lonely pit in my chest begin. I felt like I was shipping off to war, a battle in my near future. I had observed my mom and dad several times on visits but I knew I was going to be on the front line now, not watching from the trenches.
My bed is upstairs in "Alice's Room". My parents share their house with a lovely ghost named Alice. She makes herself known from time to time. This doesnt even bother me anymore. I told her last night we were gonna be roomies and she would have to deal with it. I said it nicely of course.
This morning I woke up at about 7 am, made coffee, and was up just in time for dad to wake up. He said he was HUNGRY!! He then asked where did Glen go? We do not know a Glen as far as I know. He said he came in the wagon and he went in and out of my dad's room all morning. I said, okay, dad, we'll figure it out. I made him eggs and toast and he ate it up happily.
Mom had me rearrange his new bedroom. It used to be my moms reading room/kids play room. This is the room my dad made a secret passage from the closet into his old tv room closet. We all like to use it occasionally..even the dogs know about it. :)
Yesterday he woke up and didnt know what house he was in and said his suitcases were in the other room. I know according to the hospice bible, when people start talking about traveling, sometimes its their way of letting others know their spiritual journey is nearing. He's talked of several dreams that were detailed with train rides, airplane rides, flying like a butterfly...how much is the morphine and how much is it his subconscious preparing himself and us for what is to come. Maybe he is sorting through which methods of travel he likes the best?
I set up the cot next to dad's hospital bed so mom can sleep in the same room with him. I need to either get a twin size air mattress or something to put on it because the mattress is probably an inch thick. She moved to sleeping downstairs either on the couch or the air mattress on the floor..neither very comfortable.
The hospice nurse, Deb, just came. She is such a sweet lady! She took dad's vitals and gave us a sample of a bath in a bag for dad. We aren't sure how to get dad in and out of the shower, even with the shower chair, with his modesty and safety. So you just microwave the pouch of shower wipes and he can wipe himself down.
I'm so glad to be here. I still have that lonely pit in my chest. I don't like being away from my kids and my friends. Well, time to put my kevlar back on and stand guard.
Yesterday I was so scared to leave my house. I already started missing my kids, I had that lonely pit in my chest begin. I felt like I was shipping off to war, a battle in my near future. I had observed my mom and dad several times on visits but I knew I was going to be on the front line now, not watching from the trenches.
My bed is upstairs in "Alice's Room". My parents share their house with a lovely ghost named Alice. She makes herself known from time to time. This doesnt even bother me anymore. I told her last night we were gonna be roomies and she would have to deal with it. I said it nicely of course.
This morning I woke up at about 7 am, made coffee, and was up just in time for dad to wake up. He said he was HUNGRY!! He then asked where did Glen go? We do not know a Glen as far as I know. He said he came in the wagon and he went in and out of my dad's room all morning. I said, okay, dad, we'll figure it out. I made him eggs and toast and he ate it up happily.
Mom had me rearrange his new bedroom. It used to be my moms reading room/kids play room. This is the room my dad made a secret passage from the closet into his old tv room closet. We all like to use it occasionally..even the dogs know about it. :)
Yesterday he woke up and didnt know what house he was in and said his suitcases were in the other room. I know according to the hospice bible, when people start talking about traveling, sometimes its their way of letting others know their spiritual journey is nearing. He's talked of several dreams that were detailed with train rides, airplane rides, flying like a butterfly...how much is the morphine and how much is it his subconscious preparing himself and us for what is to come. Maybe he is sorting through which methods of travel he likes the best?
I set up the cot next to dad's hospital bed so mom can sleep in the same room with him. I need to either get a twin size air mattress or something to put on it because the mattress is probably an inch thick. She moved to sleeping downstairs either on the couch or the air mattress on the floor..neither very comfortable.
The hospice nurse, Deb, just came. She is such a sweet lady! She took dad's vitals and gave us a sample of a bath in a bag for dad. We aren't sure how to get dad in and out of the shower, even with the shower chair, with his modesty and safety. So you just microwave the pouch of shower wipes and he can wipe himself down.
I'm so glad to be here. I still have that lonely pit in my chest. I don't like being away from my kids and my friends. Well, time to put my kevlar back on and stand guard.
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