There are books written on what to expect when you are expecting, and how to toilet train your dragon (or something like that). There are books written on raising teenagers, and other books written on coping with the loss of a parent. Where are the books on how to tell your parent that they probably will not be going back home?
I arrived at the hospital to find dad sitting up in a wheelchair - AWAKE! - and dressed. He said to me, "Have you come to take me home?" THUD... there's the sound of my heart dropping again. You would think I would be used to the sound by now... but each time, it's like the first time it has happened. What can you say to that... he has had a fall, he is not yet up and walking again, there will be weeks of physical therapy ahead, and he cannot live on his own again. All I said was, "Not today, you have to be able to get up and walk around."
Little does he know that his house has pretty much been emptied. You would think I would get some perverse joy out of it... moving him against his will, after all the times he moved me against my will!! The daughter of a builder; our family moved fairly often. Being one strongly opposed to change, I did not cope well with walking home from school only to see a 'For Sale' sign on our front lawn. I cried and cried and said that I was not moving, I would stay in the house with the new owners. Not wanting strangers to raise his daughter, dad promised a vanity in my room... complete with sink, mirrors and lights running down the sides. Oh yes... I got the full on movie star dressing corner in my bedroom. Spoiled? Perhaps. However, dad also clued into the fact that he had a teenaged daughter with two younger brothers. It did curb a lot of door pounding. I was free to French braid my hair, interuption free... or whatever it was I used to do in front of that mirror. I do know a curling iron was also involved!
I digress...
I think the best option at this point is to chicken out! I don't think he is ready to hear that his apartment has been cleaned out and is ready to go on the market. Don't get me wrong, he has been included in every step of the process. He has seen the furniture being moved out, boxes packed and knows what the next step is. Not that he is in agreement with it as there is nothing wrong with him, he wants to continue to live there! (His words, not mine!) I've done all I can to prepare him for the next step, I cannot make him accept it. So for now, I'm just going to wait. Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow!?
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Exhausted!
Considering a name change to Van Winkle... all dad seems to do is sleep, and all I want to do is sleep! Dad moved up to the 5th floor rehab facility yesterday. They have high hopes to rehabilitate him, but a little awkward when all he does is sleep. I spoke with the nurse this afternoon who echoed my concern about the amount of sleep he's been getting. His vital signs are all good, so it's possibly just a medication thing. We hope to get to the bottom of it tomorrow, as one cannot rehabilitate if all one does is sleep.
I've been asked about visits... I'm not sure what to say, as the visitors dad has had, have all come face to face with RIP Van Winkle. Pretty hard to visit with someone when they're sawing logs! To be sure, all the times I've been in lately, dad has been sleeping and I've not gotten to chat with him at all. It's pretty discouraging at this point. So hold on a little longer, and we'll see how it goes.
As for myself; at the moment, I'm getting the things done that need to be done, and then resting. Sleep is no longer a problem, fortunately. Hopefully we'll be all rested up soon... being a zombie isn't all it's cracked up to be!
I've been asked about visits... I'm not sure what to say, as the visitors dad has had, have all come face to face with RIP Van Winkle. Pretty hard to visit with someone when they're sawing logs! To be sure, all the times I've been in lately, dad has been sleeping and I've not gotten to chat with him at all. It's pretty discouraging at this point. So hold on a little longer, and we'll see how it goes.
As for myself; at the moment, I'm getting the things done that need to be done, and then resting. Sleep is no longer a problem, fortunately. Hopefully we'll be all rested up soon... being a zombie isn't all it's cracked up to be!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Progress Review
I've sat in many construction progress meetings to discuss coordination details, timelines, deadlines. Who knew this experience would come in handy when dealing with dad... as we indeed sat down today for a progress review. And just like a construction meeting, deadlines weren't quite being met. Though if everyone pulled together, and nothing else went wrong... the target date could be readjusted slightly and everyone would be happy. Today's update is that dad is slowly improving, now that they've got the meds straightened out. He was up on the platform today... not sure I understand what that is, but they've got him standing up at any rate. He's a few days behind what they had hoped him to be at in his progression... but the poor guy has had a few knocks, so we'll give him a break. It sounds like he'll be in the hospital, rehabilitating, till we leave.
Which means, I have to rebook flight tickets, postpone the movers, tweak some things here, adjust some things there. It's nice to have some breathing space, as I had been wondering how everything was going to be finished in such a short amount of time. There are people we want to see before we leave, and we can work that in to the new schedule. I had chosen a tight schedule from the time we found out dad was clear to go, as I wanted to leave before he had a fall. Well... he certainly squashed those plans like a bug. So on to Plan A, Revision 1. (We're not slipping onto Plan B yet. We're not even thinking about Plan B!)
On the recommendation of the social worker, this week is all about getting dad's apartment ready to sell. "It will give you something to do, to keep your mind off other things." Smart woman. Cleaning is my therapy... and you should see those tile floors sparkle! Again, I'm using humor to mask my sadness. Sadness at moving out the kitchen table where so many meals were shared with dad... and mom... and the rest of the family. Badgering and teasing one another, always with dad onto us to "keep it down." Lots of memories to sift through as I make the final push with clearing the place out. I know this was always the plan, certainly before dad even ended up in hospital, this was the path I was working on. Without him in the blue chair, keeping an eye on what I was throwing out, makes it all the more real.
I lamented as much to my brother, who was at dad's to pick up some things. "Yes Donna, it's a bit sad, but think of what you're going on to. You're going to Australia."
I'm going to Australia, yes, indeed. Somehow I've forgotten that in the midst of all this crazy. I am going to Australia. I will melt into a puddle in the middle of the beach when I finally get there. For now, there's a fridge that needs a good cleaning...
Living with Grief
Who knew grief and falling in love shared the same symptoms? I was reading October 2011 Vogue late last night and a book called Nine Symptoms was introduced in an article ... The book had surrealist Victorian pictures detailing the physical manifestations of falling in love: shortness of breath, heart-rate increase, loss of appetite, sleeplessness, weakness, fever, chills, delirium and euphoria.
It was a coincidence to read that, as I had just written the following paragraph, and had been trying to go to sleep, only to get up for a midnight snack and something to read.
"It bubbles away, just under the surface. Thick, sad, hot, angry, grief. It erupts into the pit of the stomach, a quivering, nervous jelly. It causes the hands to shake, clear up to the elbows. The head feels like it's been stuffed inside cotton batting, the outside world slightly muffled. The skin on the face is numb, slightly mottled in some places, hot pink in others. And today, a new symptom... painful cheekbones. I guess the skin can only take so much tension before it transfers elsewhere."
Apart from euphoria, the other symptoms of falling in love are also the symptoms of grief. Shortness of breath, heart-rate increase, loss of appetite, sleeplessness, weakness, fever, chills, delirium.
And such was my weekend; crashing down after the worry, fretting and telling of the story over and over. The body can only take so much, before it screams out for a break. Much needed R&R. But also too much time to think. And worry some more.
Also last night, after getting up for a midnight snack (what was I thinking, going to bed at 9pm... as if this night owl would go to sleep at 9am!), I logged back in to Facebook for some friendly company. And if I didn't find a lovely blog post by my friend, Michelle, sharing my experience on her blog, Every Little Thing; Knowing Me, Knowing You. I can't even explain how encouraged I was to read her supportive and kind words. It was just what I needed in the moment. Another reminder that we are all connected... and that words of encouragement multiply when shared. So thank you...
It was a coincidence to read that, as I had just written the following paragraph, and had been trying to go to sleep, only to get up for a midnight snack and something to read.
"It bubbles away, just under the surface. Thick, sad, hot, angry, grief. It erupts into the pit of the stomach, a quivering, nervous jelly. It causes the hands to shake, clear up to the elbows. The head feels like it's been stuffed inside cotton batting, the outside world slightly muffled. The skin on the face is numb, slightly mottled in some places, hot pink in others. And today, a new symptom... painful cheekbones. I guess the skin can only take so much tension before it transfers elsewhere."
Apart from euphoria, the other symptoms of falling in love are also the symptoms of grief. Shortness of breath, heart-rate increase, loss of appetite, sleeplessness, weakness, fever, chills, delirium.
And such was my weekend; crashing down after the worry, fretting and telling of the story over and over. The body can only take so much, before it screams out for a break. Much needed R&R. But also too much time to think. And worry some more.
Also last night, after getting up for a midnight snack (what was I thinking, going to bed at 9pm... as if this night owl would go to sleep at 9am!), I logged back in to Facebook for some friendly company. And if I didn't find a lovely blog post by my friend, Michelle, sharing my experience on her blog, Every Little Thing; Knowing Me, Knowing You. I can't even explain how encouraged I was to read her supportive and kind words. It was just what I needed in the moment. Another reminder that we are all connected... and that words of encouragement multiply when shared. So thank you...
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Mister Sass
'Im wondering when you're going to stop talking.' This was dad's response to my question, asking if anything was wrong, or could I get him anything? This was when I went in this afternoon; he was sitting up in his chair, eyes open, alert. But he was not impressed!! (Though I do think he might just be feeling better!)
These days, the sun is hanging out lower in the sky. The green leaves we waited so long to see appear on the stick branches are beginning to take on a golden hue. There's that subtle chill in the air, as summer shifts to autumn. We've had a few blowly days, and some pretty nasty rain. I just know it's a prelude to what's to come... until at least April next year. (Vancouver... love your views and your people... your weather; not so much.) There's a panic in me that I won't get out of here in time, that I'll be rained in. Or worse... snowed in.
Then, I was in the grocery store uptown grabbing a few items, and on my way out... I noticed walkers lined up three deep at the exit, no doubt waiting for their cabs. (Is it me, or are there more seniors moving in every week!?) I thought to myself, "Run, don't walk, to the nearest exit... and keep going!" Certainly not going to find a prospective mate in these parts. (Not really interested in an "older gentleman", somehow!)
On the one hand, I am thankful for the extra time to say goodbye to people, and wrap things up. However, I am ready to go. Ready for new beginnings, new (younger) faces, new possibilities. So come on, dad, get strong, get strong... we've got places to be!
These days, the sun is hanging out lower in the sky. The green leaves we waited so long to see appear on the stick branches are beginning to take on a golden hue. There's that subtle chill in the air, as summer shifts to autumn. We've had a few blowly days, and some pretty nasty rain. I just know it's a prelude to what's to come... until at least April next year. (Vancouver... love your views and your people... your weather; not so much.) There's a panic in me that I won't get out of here in time, that I'll be rained in. Or worse... snowed in.
Then, I was in the grocery store uptown grabbing a few items, and on my way out... I noticed walkers lined up three deep at the exit, no doubt waiting for their cabs. (Is it me, or are there more seniors moving in every week!?) I thought to myself, "Run, don't walk, to the nearest exit... and keep going!" Certainly not going to find a prospective mate in these parts. (Not really interested in an "older gentleman", somehow!)
On the one hand, I am thankful for the extra time to say goodbye to people, and wrap things up. However, I am ready to go. Ready for new beginnings, new (younger) faces, new possibilities. So come on, dad, get strong, get strong... we've got places to be!
Mister Sandman
Thursday, September 22, 2011
I am sure my brother appreciated receiving email updates (from my iPhone, in bed) in the wee hours of the morning here. 1am... 'Haven't turned the lights out yet.' 2 am... 'I'm having a panic attack.' 3 am ... 'You won't be surprised to know that I am still awake.' 4 am ... 'Aaaand... still awake.' (Looking into a bright screen probably doesn't aid in the sleep department!!) That's the benefit of relatives and friends overseas... there's always someone to keep you company when you when you can't sleep. I was just so worked up after the week I've had, and couldn't talk myself out of it at 3 am.
One person who has no problems sleeping, is dad. The Sinemet itself, plus the mismanagement of the pills causes him to sleep. A lot. Whenever he gets assessed, I get asked, is the fatigue common? "Oh yes," I smile. Road trips when we were kids were interesting. Midafternoon, the yawning would start... windows were rolled down, vents turned on, the driving speed would decrease. Mom would say, "That's it. It's my turn to drive." Off to the edge of the road, to trade places. Dad would kind of loll out the driver's side, half a lazy smile on his face, strap himself into the passenger seat and out like a light. It was a common sight at home to see dad sleeping in the 'blue chair.' Yes, he does sleep more often now - with the disease and medication and boredom. But it's really nothing new!
I rushed to the hospital this morning ... mainly because I was starting to panic a bit about how dad was, especially after the previous two days. They had him up in his chair, and he was... you guessed it... sleeping. Lunch had been brought out and was sitting on the tray in front of him... I went to help him eat it... He'd been too weak and sleepy to feed himself since Monday. He'd taken a few bites and then I noticed he was out like a light... no rousing him. I said, 'Thats a bit rude don't you think? To fall asleep in the middle of your lunch?!'
The words of both my brother's are ringing through my head... 'Broken ribs are painful, Donna. You just want to lie around in bed and do nothing. Think of dad... he's old and he has a disease. And he has broken ribs. He just needs time.'
So the story at 8 pm from the nurses was, dad was a bit more alert and responsive today. Ok boys, I'm holding you to your theory!
I am sure my brother appreciated receiving email updates (from my iPhone, in bed) in the wee hours of the morning here. 1am... 'Haven't turned the lights out yet.' 2 am... 'I'm having a panic attack.' 3 am ... 'You won't be surprised to know that I am still awake.' 4 am ... 'Aaaand... still awake.' (Looking into a bright screen probably doesn't aid in the sleep department!!) That's the benefit of relatives and friends overseas... there's always someone to keep you company when you when you can't sleep. I was just so worked up after the week I've had, and couldn't talk myself out of it at 3 am.
One person who has no problems sleeping, is dad. The Sinemet itself, plus the mismanagement of the pills causes him to sleep. A lot. Whenever he gets assessed, I get asked, is the fatigue common? "Oh yes," I smile. Road trips when we were kids were interesting. Midafternoon, the yawning would start... windows were rolled down, vents turned on, the driving speed would decrease. Mom would say, "That's it. It's my turn to drive." Off to the edge of the road, to trade places. Dad would kind of loll out the driver's side, half a lazy smile on his face, strap himself into the passenger seat and out like a light. It was a common sight at home to see dad sleeping in the 'blue chair.' Yes, he does sleep more often now - with the disease and medication and boredom. But it's really nothing new!
I rushed to the hospital this morning ... mainly because I was starting to panic a bit about how dad was, especially after the previous two days. They had him up in his chair, and he was... you guessed it... sleeping. Lunch had been brought out and was sitting on the tray in front of him... I went to help him eat it... He'd been too weak and sleepy to feed himself since Monday. He'd taken a few bites and then I noticed he was out like a light... no rousing him. I said, 'Thats a bit rude don't you think? To fall asleep in the middle of your lunch?!'
The words of both my brother's are ringing through my head... 'Broken ribs are painful, Donna. You just want to lie around in bed and do nothing. Think of dad... he's old and he has a disease. And he has broken ribs. He just needs time.'
So the story at 8 pm from the nurses was, dad was a bit more alert and responsive today. Ok boys, I'm holding you to your theory!
Thursday, September 22, 2011
More Disappointment
I apologize for the delay in blog updates... there was to be a farewell party for us this Friday night; the venue was booked and all. Since our trip has been postponed, so was the party. However, my friend decided it would be the perfect foil as a surprise party for her husband's 40th! I am quite happy to celebrate in someone else's milestone! I just couldn't give up the secret on my blog in case he read it... hence the delay!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Attempting not to write with a hot head, but today, it's a bit hard. When the paramedics picked up dad on Sunday they asked for the medication containers so they could write down the medication times. I specifially told them EIGHT AM, TWELVE PM, FOUR PM AND EIGHT PM for the Sinemet. When I went back to the hospital on Monday, I handed the ER Overflow nurse the pill containers instructing her that his Parkinson's medication needs to be prescribed at EIGHT AM, TWELVE PM, FOUR PM AND EIGHT PM. She said that made sense and wrote it down on the charts. (Deja-vous?) When I left dad on Monday night, he was tired, but content. Seeing him Tuesday just about broke my heart, writhing around in the bed in utter agnoy. I forgot to double-check with the nurses about his Sinemet doses... but why would you... he's in the care of the hospital, right? Right.
I had a 1pm meeting today with the social worker... she was amazing. She said that the paperwork came across the desk and she saw that we wanted to move to Sydney, Australia. She said to herself... Right, I want to help this family! Having lived for 6 months in Brisbane herself, she said that she could understand the draw! She also said that she'd walked passed dad's room on her way to the bathroom before visiting us, saw me, and had a shock! Typically working with clients in their 50s and 60s, she couldn't believe how young I was. Yep! That's me! Always the youngest in the geriatric ward by a country mile!
We talked about dad and determined that we are going to have to delay the trip by at least a couple of weeks... this I can handle, as I cannot see straight to organize final details right now, so could use the extra time. The rush to get to Sydney was to get dad there before he had a fall, but clearly that has flown out the window now! I can handle a two week delay. I cannot handle a cancellation... which is what the nurse at the station was implying when we went back to talk to her. She even went on to say that she was greatly concerned about dad yesterday. Which wasn't the impression I got yesterday... she seemed to think he'd be ok. Give me a straight, honest answer people. I need to deal with the truth!
In our course of conversation, dad's Sinemet dose came up again. We went to look over the charts, and low and behold, if the pharmacy hasn't prescribed the SAME stupid dosing they prescribed from Sunday. Dad isn't getting the proper medication dosing times. They were giving him a dose at 8 am, and then not another dose until 2pm. That's SIX hours between doses. His entire Sinemet history from November 2003, he's been prescribed doses every 4 hours. Then he was getting another dose at 6pm, and a dose and half at bedtime, or something whacked like that. What do they say about Parkinson's patients and medication? Say it with me people, "ON TIME, EVERYTIME." Otherwise it can take days, and weeks to recover. So if you consider that dad missed his dosing on Saturday, then Sunday, then they tried to get it on track on Monday, screwed up Tuesday and now Wednesday... add in 3 broken ribs and a clavicle, and is it any wonder the poor man is suffering?
A geriatric nurse gave me some great advice when dad was in the hospital back in November 2009, "You need to be your family's advocate." And do you ever. I am all over them in the hospital now. I checked his doses when I was back at the hospital at 7pm, and I will be the nosy, irritating family member checking those charts every day. Yay! My obsessive traits finally work as a positive!
I asked my brother tonight if he thought dad was dying... see, there's that dark place that I just can't get away from! He tried to reassure me that dad should be ok... once the medication gets back on track, and he needs his rest to recover from his breaks and bruises. Dad has rebounded back before, I just have to have faith to believe that he's going to do it again.
We're now playing the waiting game, seeing what happens with dad's mobility. We have a progress meeting next week at the hospital. In the meantime, I have to continue to live with this wobbly bit of worry that resides in my lower tummy. After three years of it, you'd think I'd be used to it by now... but no.
So disappointing news for sure... our trip has to be postponed for at least two weeks, provided they can get dad standing up. Come on dad.... we're rooting on you and that stubborn streak working as a postive for you, too!!!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Attempting not to write with a hot head, but today, it's a bit hard. When the paramedics picked up dad on Sunday they asked for the medication containers so they could write down the medication times. I specifially told them EIGHT AM, TWELVE PM, FOUR PM AND EIGHT PM for the Sinemet. When I went back to the hospital on Monday, I handed the ER Overflow nurse the pill containers instructing her that his Parkinson's medication needs to be prescribed at EIGHT AM, TWELVE PM, FOUR PM AND EIGHT PM. She said that made sense and wrote it down on the charts. (Deja-vous?) When I left dad on Monday night, he was tired, but content. Seeing him Tuesday just about broke my heart, writhing around in the bed in utter agnoy. I forgot to double-check with the nurses about his Sinemet doses... but why would you... he's in the care of the hospital, right? Right.
I had a 1pm meeting today with the social worker... she was amazing. She said that the paperwork came across the desk and she saw that we wanted to move to Sydney, Australia. She said to herself... Right, I want to help this family! Having lived for 6 months in Brisbane herself, she said that she could understand the draw! She also said that she'd walked passed dad's room on her way to the bathroom before visiting us, saw me, and had a shock! Typically working with clients in their 50s and 60s, she couldn't believe how young I was. Yep! That's me! Always the youngest in the geriatric ward by a country mile!
We talked about dad and determined that we are going to have to delay the trip by at least a couple of weeks... this I can handle, as I cannot see straight to organize final details right now, so could use the extra time. The rush to get to Sydney was to get dad there before he had a fall, but clearly that has flown out the window now! I can handle a two week delay. I cannot handle a cancellation... which is what the nurse at the station was implying when we went back to talk to her. She even went on to say that she was greatly concerned about dad yesterday. Which wasn't the impression I got yesterday... she seemed to think he'd be ok. Give me a straight, honest answer people. I need to deal with the truth!
In our course of conversation, dad's Sinemet dose came up again. We went to look over the charts, and low and behold, if the pharmacy hasn't prescribed the SAME stupid dosing they prescribed from Sunday. Dad isn't getting the proper medication dosing times. They were giving him a dose at 8 am, and then not another dose until 2pm. That's SIX hours between doses. His entire Sinemet history from November 2003, he's been prescribed doses every 4 hours. Then he was getting another dose at 6pm, and a dose and half at bedtime, or something whacked like that. What do they say about Parkinson's patients and medication? Say it with me people, "ON TIME, EVERYTIME." Otherwise it can take days, and weeks to recover. So if you consider that dad missed his dosing on Saturday, then Sunday, then they tried to get it on track on Monday, screwed up Tuesday and now Wednesday... add in 3 broken ribs and a clavicle, and is it any wonder the poor man is suffering?
A geriatric nurse gave me some great advice when dad was in the hospital back in November 2009, "You need to be your family's advocate." And do you ever. I am all over them in the hospital now. I checked his doses when I was back at the hospital at 7pm, and I will be the nosy, irritating family member checking those charts every day. Yay! My obsessive traits finally work as a positive!
I asked my brother tonight if he thought dad was dying... see, there's that dark place that I just can't get away from! He tried to reassure me that dad should be ok... once the medication gets back on track, and he needs his rest to recover from his breaks and bruises. Dad has rebounded back before, I just have to have faith to believe that he's going to do it again.
We're now playing the waiting game, seeing what happens with dad's mobility. We have a progress meeting next week at the hospital. In the meantime, I have to continue to live with this wobbly bit of worry that resides in my lower tummy. After three years of it, you'd think I'd be used to it by now... but no.
So disappointing news for sure... our trip has to be postponed for at least two weeks, provided they can get dad standing up. Come on dad.... we're rooting on you and that stubborn streak working as a postive for you, too!!!
Helpful Words
A kind email was sent to me today bearing helpful words, so I thought I would share them here...
Be kinder than necessary-
Everyone you meet is fighting
Some kind of battle.
Live simply,
Love generously,
Care deeply,
Speak kindly.......
For we walk by faith and not by sight
Be kinder than necessary-
Everyone you meet is fighting
Some kind of battle.
Live simply,
Love generously,
Care deeply,
Speak kindly.......
For we walk by faith and not by sight
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Fractured!
Came across this photo today as I was perusing a stack of old photos... it made me smile, so I thought I'd add it here. A familiar memory... dad with one of those flat, wide constuction pencils in his mouth!
Some days, the brain runs ahead of itself and goes into a dark place, and there's no talking it down. That was the case this morning as I was trying to get things packed and items crossed off my list before going to the hospital. All the while worrying worrying what had happened to dad. He was meant to be going to recovery on the 6th floor, but ended up on the 4th floor. I'm not familiar with the 4th floor. (Not familiar with the 6th floor, but the program sounded more promising than the unknown.) All I could do was worry that the 4th was where they sent people to die! See... brain getting waaay ahead of itself.
The best thing to do would be to get to the hospital asap so I could get the correct answers instead of making stuff up!! I should have been there first thing in the morning to reassure myself! Dad is on the 4th floor as he needs a bit more care at the moment. They moved him last night, and it sounds like he didn't get much sleep last night. Is it any wonder... the report now is he has three broken ribs and possibly his clavicle. (Not sure why that hasn't been confirmed. In fact, I've not yet seen the official report, so that may change as well... so don't quote me on that.)He's in a great deal of pain with the broken ribs, and the only thing he can take for the pain is Tylenol... as we've learnt from past experience that anything stronger interferes with the Sinemet and makes matters worse! That totals approximately six bones he's broken on my watch... I'm starting to get a complex.My heart broke a little more as I watched him writhe around in pain. This is by far the worst day. Sunday and Monday saw him wincing with the pain when he moved. Today, he's just twisting on the bed. If I recall, with that kind of thing, it gets worse before it gets better. (I hope!) He was trying to tell me something, but was too tired to talk. I reassured him that all would be ok... it was just a lame day, and that it should get better. It could wait till tomorrow. For now, he just needed to get as much rest as possible.
So the plan is to get him caught up on his rest and get him moving around again, maybe tomorrow. The poor man... how much more does he need to go through?? There is nothing wrong with him medically (besides the Parkinson's, broken bones, old back injury), he has a good appetite (I can contest to this... the one thing I did figure out he was asking me when I was there was when was it supper time!), so they're hopeful to get him up and moving around soon. Will see about the Oct 5th flight deadline... if we have to postpone it a few days, well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
So am requesting no visitors for the time being... dad needs time to rest and recover. Again, I will keep you updated on his condition as we go along...
Seeing dad in hospital with multiple fractures, reminded me of the fax from mom I had recently found when going through all my stuff. In a twist... this time I was in Sydney when I got the news that dad had an accident. I remember Loren calling me at my aunt's house, "Don't worry, dad is ok, but he's had an accident." My thoughts immediately went to his Honda Gold Wing that he owned at the time... but no, this time he fell on a construction site. Following are the words I have taken off a very faded fax from mom at the time of the accident...
April 25/96
Anzac Day in Canada!
Donna;
I guess Loren gave you all the details – the accident which happened Monday morning somewhere between 8.30 & 9.00 – Darcy and Dad were marking out a line with chalk – Darcy on one end and Dad on the other, they were marking for an outside wall and were on the second floor. Dad was moving backwards and Dad was going the other way. Dad must have misjudged the distance as he went down the opening for the stair well – about 11 foot drop – and seemed to have hit something on the way down.
Heather called the ambulance and they put him on the board and neck brace and sent him to Langley Hospital. He spent the day there and had many X-rays and by 5.00pm they decided to send him to Vancouver General – the spinal section – because of his neck injuries. He has a fractured left wrist which they operated on today – pins and maybe a plate to ensure it works right. A fractured right collar bone, fractured sternum (chest) and the [illegible] in neck (back!) and two vertebra just below the bones in the neck which doctor feels will heal by themselves. A lot of swelling because of blood between skin and skull hence swelling of face, neck and purple eyes (why they call them black, I don’t know) and purple behind his ears. His eyes were swollen shut on Tuesday, but better now and the whites of his eyes are red.
Dale has gone in this afternoon and I’ll go after Jacqueline goes home. And now to add, don’t worry, he’s doing fine for the shape he’s in. I took roses to him from us all. Love mom xx
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Hello World!
After months of working on this blog, I'm taking it public. (So please be kind... am feeling a little vulnerable!) I've been wanting to publish it for a while, but wanted to put the finishing touches on it. However, it's still not quite finished... but I want to get it up now to keep everyone in the loop about dad... instead of sending out multiple texts, emails and phone calls!
People have asked if they can help... for the moment, I am ok. I've been cleaning out stuff for months, so that's a job half done! Movers and junk people are lined up to clear out most of the rest of the stuff. (Since we're moving to Sydney, they're really strict with quarantine - so the movers pack everything... so that's taken care of!) I'll be hiring a cleaner for dad's place, also one less thing to worry about. As for the rest of it... mostly it's personal paperwork that I just have to systematically work through. I have my calendar of things to be done, so that keeps me on the straight and narrow!!
I do not know about visiting hours for dad. I will post an update once I find out.
So here we go ... happy reading!
People have asked if they can help... for the moment, I am ok. I've been cleaning out stuff for months, so that's a job half done! Movers and junk people are lined up to clear out most of the rest of the stuff. (Since we're moving to Sydney, they're really strict with quarantine - so the movers pack everything... so that's taken care of!) I'll be hiring a cleaner for dad's place, also one less thing to worry about. As for the rest of it... mostly it's personal paperwork that I just have to systematically work through. I have my calendar of things to be done, so that keeps me on the straight and narrow!!
I do not know about visiting hours for dad. I will post an update once I find out.
So here we go ... happy reading!
Are We At Rock Bottom Yet!?
Monday, September 19, 2011
8 am - Pure bliss! I didn't have to call dad this morning. I started out the day with a coffee, and then got to work on my lengthy To Do list. I tried calling the hospital all morning, but couldn't reach anyone. I had to be at dad's at 2.30 to meet with his nurse, so went to the hospital just before that to see what the story was.
1.45 pm - Arrived at dad's bedside to find him looking much improved over last night. He had a nurse now assigned to him... I gave her his Sinemet bottles with the exact dosages on them... and she said... That makes sense now.... his mobility and cognition had been decreasing. The pharmacy had prescribed the Sinemet over 3x a day, not 4x as prescribed by his neurologist. His lunch was served and I chatted with him, and the nurses for a bit. The nurses told me they understood I was trying to get over to Australia. They were trying to get him up to another floor for their recovery program, which included a physio, OT and social worker. I left the hospital feeling much more positive about the outcome.
2.30 pm - Met with dad's nurse at his place... she got some groceries, I did general cleaning up, and then we started in on purging the rest of the kitchen. So much work to do... but a little bit every day gets the job done!
5.00 pm - Back to the hospital to see dad. The nurse asked me what he's used for pain management in the past. Tylenol ONLY! With the Sinemet, dad has had severe cognition issues with anything stronger than Tylenol. That is noted in his chart as well. It's lucky I caught her, as she was going to prescribe something stronger. But wait... what pain? What is going on? She can't tell me until a doctor has met with me. A doctor hasn't been to see him yet. Also, they're waiting for the results of some chest work he has had done. Also, he can't go to recovery until they get a full picture of what is happening. What IS happening!? Yesterday afternoon, they were ready to send him home, and now they were waiting on chest results!? Is it me or is this all a bit backwards. And why hasn't a doctor been to see dad yet!? Crazy BC Medical system... it's in dire straights.
ALSO... dad has been lying in bed for well over 24 hours, not using his muscles. He had been walking around the night before, so I know he can still walk. Now he can hardly move. At least he got to swing his legs off the side of the bed while he had dinner... the most exercise he got all day.
I left the hospital this time feeling most dejected. Australia was looking farther and farther away. Like a dumb idea, really.
7.37 pm - My brother called me to tell me he had stopped in to see dad. Dad hardly opened his eyes the whole time... he's just so tired. At the end of the conversation, he told me that dad has been moved to the rehabilation unit. Oh.... good news. I can feel the weight lift slightly from the pit of my stomach.
8 am - Pure bliss! I didn't have to call dad this morning. I started out the day with a coffee, and then got to work on my lengthy To Do list. I tried calling the hospital all morning, but couldn't reach anyone. I had to be at dad's at 2.30 to meet with his nurse, so went to the hospital just before that to see what the story was.
1.45 pm - Arrived at dad's bedside to find him looking much improved over last night. He had a nurse now assigned to him... I gave her his Sinemet bottles with the exact dosages on them... and she said... That makes sense now.... his mobility and cognition had been decreasing. The pharmacy had prescribed the Sinemet over 3x a day, not 4x as prescribed by his neurologist. His lunch was served and I chatted with him, and the nurses for a bit. The nurses told me they understood I was trying to get over to Australia. They were trying to get him up to another floor for their recovery program, which included a physio, OT and social worker. I left the hospital feeling much more positive about the outcome.
2.30 pm - Met with dad's nurse at his place... she got some groceries, I did general cleaning up, and then we started in on purging the rest of the kitchen. So much work to do... but a little bit every day gets the job done!
5.00 pm - Back to the hospital to see dad. The nurse asked me what he's used for pain management in the past. Tylenol ONLY! With the Sinemet, dad has had severe cognition issues with anything stronger than Tylenol. That is noted in his chart as well. It's lucky I caught her, as she was going to prescribe something stronger. But wait... what pain? What is going on? She can't tell me until a doctor has met with me. A doctor hasn't been to see him yet. Also, they're waiting for the results of some chest work he has had done. Also, he can't go to recovery until they get a full picture of what is happening. What IS happening!? Yesterday afternoon, they were ready to send him home, and now they were waiting on chest results!? Is it me or is this all a bit backwards. And why hasn't a doctor been to see dad yet!? Crazy BC Medical system... it's in dire straights.
ALSO... dad has been lying in bed for well over 24 hours, not using his muscles. He had been walking around the night before, so I know he can still walk. Now he can hardly move. At least he got to swing his legs off the side of the bed while he had dinner... the most exercise he got all day.
I left the hospital this time feeling most dejected. Australia was looking farther and farther away. Like a dumb idea, really.
7.37 pm - My brother called me to tell me he had stopped in to see dad. Dad hardly opened his eyes the whole time... he's just so tired. At the end of the conversation, he told me that dad has been moved to the rehabilation unit. Oh.... good news. I can feel the weight lift slightly from the pit of my stomach.
What Else Can Go Wrong?
Sunday, September 19, 2011
7.45 am... Dragged myself out of a warm, cozy bed... and drove down a rainy grey street to dad's house to give him his 8 am pill... all the while thinking... pill in, Donna home and back to bed.
8.00 am... Found dad half in, half out of bed. "Hey dad, you ok there?"
"No." Was the muffled reply.
I tried for 45 minutes to get dad out of his bed. He was so weak and his left arm was not working at all. After minutes of complete despair, it was time to call the ambulance again. Two paramedics came and got dad up. I gave them his care card number and pill info... telling them he needed his Parkinson's medication at 8, 12, 4 and 8, which they wrote down. They strapped dad into a stretcher, and told me to take a break, as I looked like I needed it, and it would be a while at the hospital. Utterly exhausted, I worked out my upset and worry in attacking the laundry, cleaning the carpet of blood (relax... just a stubbed toe), and general tidying up.
THEN I collapsed into bed. (Yes, I went home and took care of myself... there's only one of me... so I had to ensure I wouldn't end up in the padded room in the ER.)
12.30 pm - The geriatric nurse called from Peace Arch to ask some general questions about dad. She said she wanted to do an assessment of dad, but at that point, they were thinking of sending him home, and adding in additional home care and was I ok with that. Yes... but do you have to send him home tonight? Can't I have a night's rest?
2.15 pm - The geriatric nurse called back to ask about dad's Sinemet dose, as they'd missed giving it to him at noon, and it wasn't fair to do an assessment on him without him having his Sinemet dose. And would I be able to bring his medication in to the hospital. WHAAAATT!? I had specifically told them about his Sinemet dose. And the paramedics won't take patients pills in, they say he'll get it at the hospital. Apparently at this point in time, he hadn't been "admitted", so the pharmacy wouldn't be able to admister pills. I was like, "Whatever" at this point. You're in a hospital, you work it out.
4.15 pm - Having not heard back from the hospital, I called them, only to find out that the geriatric nurse had gone home for the day. Dad had been transferred to the ER overflow room at the back of surgical daycare. (I knew exactly where that was, having had been there in January for dad's hernia surgery.) He definitely would be staying overnight, and probably the next night too.
6.00 pm -Feeling somewhat rested and ready for the next round of ??, I went in to see dad in his bed in the surgical daycare center. It was quiet at night, with only a handful of patients there. I've never seen the poor man look so exhausted. They raised his bed for his dinner, and he was wincing in pain. He coughed and he winced in pain. I was worried beyond belief... wondering what was wrong with him... he had spent hours on the floor the day before... must have been the pressure of lying on his side. He started off his chicken stir-fry dinner with a gusto, but pretty much fell asleep in his lemon meringue pie.
A discussion with his nurse about his Sinemet revealed that the pharmacy had prescribed it 3x a day. Uh, no... the neurologist has prescribed it 4x a day for dad, I explained to the nurse. She gave me a look and informed ME, that that's what the pharmacy prescribes in the hospital.
We'll see about that.
11.59 pm - Lying in bed, worrying about dad's Sinemet dosage in hospital... that's going to hinder him even more.
7.45 am... Dragged myself out of a warm, cozy bed... and drove down a rainy grey street to dad's house to give him his 8 am pill... all the while thinking... pill in, Donna home and back to bed.
8.00 am... Found dad half in, half out of bed. "Hey dad, you ok there?"
"No." Was the muffled reply.
I tried for 45 minutes to get dad out of his bed. He was so weak and his left arm was not working at all. After minutes of complete despair, it was time to call the ambulance again. Two paramedics came and got dad up. I gave them his care card number and pill info... telling them he needed his Parkinson's medication at 8, 12, 4 and 8, which they wrote down. They strapped dad into a stretcher, and told me to take a break, as I looked like I needed it, and it would be a while at the hospital. Utterly exhausted, I worked out my upset and worry in attacking the laundry, cleaning the carpet of blood (relax... just a stubbed toe), and general tidying up.
THEN I collapsed into bed. (Yes, I went home and took care of myself... there's only one of me... so I had to ensure I wouldn't end up in the padded room in the ER.)
12.30 pm - The geriatric nurse called from Peace Arch to ask some general questions about dad. She said she wanted to do an assessment of dad, but at that point, they were thinking of sending him home, and adding in additional home care and was I ok with that. Yes... but do you have to send him home tonight? Can't I have a night's rest?
2.15 pm - The geriatric nurse called back to ask about dad's Sinemet dose, as they'd missed giving it to him at noon, and it wasn't fair to do an assessment on him without him having his Sinemet dose. And would I be able to bring his medication in to the hospital. WHAAAATT!? I had specifically told them about his Sinemet dose. And the paramedics won't take patients pills in, they say he'll get it at the hospital. Apparently at this point in time, he hadn't been "admitted", so the pharmacy wouldn't be able to admister pills. I was like, "Whatever" at this point. You're in a hospital, you work it out.
4.15 pm - Having not heard back from the hospital, I called them, only to find out that the geriatric nurse had gone home for the day. Dad had been transferred to the ER overflow room at the back of surgical daycare. (I knew exactly where that was, having had been there in January for dad's hernia surgery.) He definitely would be staying overnight, and probably the next night too.
6.00 pm -Feeling somewhat rested and ready for the next round of ??, I went in to see dad in his bed in the surgical daycare center. It was quiet at night, with only a handful of patients there. I've never seen the poor man look so exhausted. They raised his bed for his dinner, and he was wincing in pain. He coughed and he winced in pain. I was worried beyond belief... wondering what was wrong with him... he had spent hours on the floor the day before... must have been the pressure of lying on his side. He started off his chicken stir-fry dinner with a gusto, but pretty much fell asleep in his lemon meringue pie.
A discussion with his nurse about his Sinemet revealed that the pharmacy had prescribed it 3x a day. Uh, no... the neurologist has prescribed it 4x a day for dad, I explained to the nurse. She gave me a look and informed ME, that that's what the pharmacy prescribes in the hospital.
We'll see about that.
11.59 pm - Lying in bed, worrying about dad's Sinemet dosage in hospital... that's going to hinder him even more.
Man Down II
Saturday, September 15, 2011
A fun day was had by all in downtown Seattle... and I learnt the true meaning of "shop till you drop". At 8 pm, somewhere on the I-5 north of Seattle, I dialed dad's number, only to have it ring out to voice mail every time. Weird, but I tried not to stress about it. I'd be home around 10 or 11 that night, and since my car was parked at his place, I'd stop in to check on him before I went home.
9.30 pm - a delayed text came through. (Since I was in the US, I'd had turned my data roaming off, and was checking intermittently. Nothing came through when I last checked at 8pm.) It was a message from the case manager with the Nurse Next Door asking if I had heard from dad, as the 4pm nurse had been unable to get in. Uh oh. Now I KNEW something was wrong.
Several panicked phone calls later, it was determined that the Nurse Next Door manager would go over to dad's and report back to me.
"I'm with Norman, and he has had a fall."
My stomach dropped. I just knew there was something wrong. What's worse, he'd been there for hours.
By this time, we were south of Bellingham somewhere, so still had to drive to the border and wait in line. (We also knew we'd be paying some taxes at Customs due to quantity of goods purchased!) Another side note: we pulled into a rest stop so I could get something out of my suitcase in the trunk... and for some bizarre reason, there were fireworks going off near by. As my friend put it... nothing like adding to the drama!
11 pm... arrived at dad's place (bank accounts lighter still from HST paid on goods crossing the border!) The NND case manager was waiting, and said dad was in bed. He'd found him on the floor of the living room (thankfully carpeted)... it appeared that he'd just fallen out of the chair... maybe he'd gotten his feet tangled in the footstool. He'd cleaned dad up, gave him food and drink, walked him around the living room to wear off adreneline and put him to bed. At that point, there was a rustle in the bedroom and I looked in to find dad out of bed, at his walker, with his cane upside down, doing something at the bottom of the walker.
"Hi dad. I'm back from Seattle. What are you doing?"
"Filling up with gas."
"Well, you don't need to fill up with gas now. You need to get into bed and rest."
At this point, I stuck my head out the door and repeated to the others that dad was filling up with gas. Haha... unbeknownst to me at that moment, they looked at each other and thought that dad himself was filling up with another kind of gas. Hahaha.
We got dad into bed, and stayed around for a while, talking. It was determined that he was ok for the time being. I would go home, get some much needed rest (was exhausted from the week of stress, not to mention a non-stop shopping trip) and would come back in the morning to give dad his 8 am pill and see how he was doing...
And YES... the man had once again removed his Lifeline button... his "Help I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up" button. There are no words for what I felt... no words.
A fun day was had by all in downtown Seattle... and I learnt the true meaning of "shop till you drop". At 8 pm, somewhere on the I-5 north of Seattle, I dialed dad's number, only to have it ring out to voice mail every time. Weird, but I tried not to stress about it. I'd be home around 10 or 11 that night, and since my car was parked at his place, I'd stop in to check on him before I went home.
9.30 pm - a delayed text came through. (Since I was in the US, I'd had turned my data roaming off, and was checking intermittently. Nothing came through when I last checked at 8pm.) It was a message from the case manager with the Nurse Next Door asking if I had heard from dad, as the 4pm nurse had been unable to get in. Uh oh. Now I KNEW something was wrong.
Several panicked phone calls later, it was determined that the Nurse Next Door manager would go over to dad's and report back to me.
"I'm with Norman, and he has had a fall."
My stomach dropped. I just knew there was something wrong. What's worse, he'd been there for hours.
By this time, we were south of Bellingham somewhere, so still had to drive to the border and wait in line. (We also knew we'd be paying some taxes at Customs due to quantity of goods purchased!) Another side note: we pulled into a rest stop so I could get something out of my suitcase in the trunk... and for some bizarre reason, there were fireworks going off near by. As my friend put it... nothing like adding to the drama!
11 pm... arrived at dad's place (bank accounts lighter still from HST paid on goods crossing the border!) The NND case manager was waiting, and said dad was in bed. He'd found him on the floor of the living room (thankfully carpeted)... it appeared that he'd just fallen out of the chair... maybe he'd gotten his feet tangled in the footstool. He'd cleaned dad up, gave him food and drink, walked him around the living room to wear off adreneline and put him to bed. At that point, there was a rustle in the bedroom and I looked in to find dad out of bed, at his walker, with his cane upside down, doing something at the bottom of the walker.
"Hi dad. I'm back from Seattle. What are you doing?"
"Filling up with gas."
"Well, you don't need to fill up with gas now. You need to get into bed and rest."
At this point, I stuck my head out the door and repeated to the others that dad was filling up with gas. Haha... unbeknownst to me at that moment, they looked at each other and thought that dad himself was filling up with another kind of gas. Hahaha.
We got dad into bed, and stayed around for a while, talking. It was determined that he was ok for the time being. I would go home, get some much needed rest (was exhausted from the week of stress, not to mention a non-stop shopping trip) and would come back in the morning to give dad his 8 am pill and see how he was doing...
And YES... the man had once again removed his Lifeline button... his "Help I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up" button. There are no words for what I felt... no words.
A Bump in the Road
Friday, September 16, 2011
To go or not to go to Seattle, that was the question. An overnight trip had been arranged to spend some time with some old friends and to say goodbye before I move to Australia. To leave dad though, after the drama of the week? It was determined that yes, it's ok... have added some Nurse Next Door shifts and it should be ok. I've done this when I've gone away before. So I said goodbye to dad with instructions to stay on his own two feet.
(Drive to Seattle, meet up with a good friend... shopping and dinner.)
8 pm... called dad for his last pill of the day. (Oh no... don't get a break, even if I'm out of town.) Tried dad three times before he answered. He was completely out of it. So I told him I'd give him time to get out of bed to get the 8 pm pill that's in the kitchen, and I'd call him back. When I called him back 5 minutes later, it went straight to voice mail... which meant that he'd left the phone off the hook! He needed to take that pill, and the phone had to be hung up so the nurse could get in in the morning.
One desperate call to my brother later, and he was on his way over to dad's place to see what the problem was. One relieved call later... the pill had been taken. Turns out after I called dad, he'd placed the phone in the hook upside down (so it didn't hang up) and went back to sleep. Relief! I could enjoy the rest of my day.
To go or not to go to Seattle, that was the question. An overnight trip had been arranged to spend some time with some old friends and to say goodbye before I move to Australia. To leave dad though, after the drama of the week? It was determined that yes, it's ok... have added some Nurse Next Door shifts and it should be ok. I've done this when I've gone away before. So I said goodbye to dad with instructions to stay on his own two feet.
(Drive to Seattle, meet up with a good friend... shopping and dinner.)
8 pm... called dad for his last pill of the day. (Oh no... don't get a break, even if I'm out of town.) Tried dad three times before he answered. He was completely out of it. So I told him I'd give him time to get out of bed to get the 8 pm pill that's in the kitchen, and I'd call him back. When I called him back 5 minutes later, it went straight to voice mail... which meant that he'd left the phone off the hook! He needed to take that pill, and the phone had to be hung up so the nurse could get in in the morning.
One desperate call to my brother later, and he was on his way over to dad's place to see what the problem was. One relieved call later... the pill had been taken. Turns out after I called dad, he'd placed the phone in the hook upside down (so it didn't hang up) and went back to sleep. Relief! I could enjoy the rest of my day.
Man Still Down!
Thursday, September 15, 2011
8.00 am... called dad to remind him of his pill. After some mumbling and grumbling and moving around, the pill was taken.
12.00 pm... arrived at dad's to take to the Telus guy about the intercom (AGAIN - 3rd time.) Dad was still in bed and couldn't get up. Huh? The nurse from the Nurse Next Door helped me give him his pill, gave him some chocolate pudding and some water... we waited for the pills to kick in and his blood sugar to raise. Eventually we got him out of bed, and on his feet. Slightly wobbly, but ok.
8.00 am... called dad to remind him of his pill. After some mumbling and grumbling and moving around, the pill was taken.
12.00 pm... arrived at dad's to take to the Telus guy about the intercom (AGAIN - 3rd time.) Dad was still in bed and couldn't get up. Huh? The nurse from the Nurse Next Door helped me give him his pill, gave him some chocolate pudding and some water... we waited for the pills to kick in and his blood sugar to raise. Eventually we got him out of bed, and on his feet. Slightly wobbly, but ok.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Man Down!
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
There are times when it helps to draw on the memories I have of dad... memories of him climbing up a ladder, his shoulder loaded up with 2x4s. Today was one of those days.
I had been out happily running errands, chatting on my phone, and then ordered lunch to eat at dad's place before clearing out some more of his things.
I pushed open the heavy door into dad's apartment, "Hello?"
He wasn't in his blue chair as per usual. I stepped into the hallway, put down my things and went looking for him. "Dad? Are you here?" I looked into the nook where his walker is stored, as sometimes he goes out for walks, though not so much, lately.
I walked in a little further and peeked into the kitchen... and if he wasn't lying on his left side on the cold tile floor, head wedged under the cabinet overhang.
"DAD! What are you doing there?"
Mumble.
"Are you alright?"
More mumble.
It was instantly evident that he'd gotten up from the table from lunch and stumbled over his own two feet. And there he lay, wedged under the cabinet. I recalled my first aid pep talk to myself from the previous time he fell over and I moved him. (In my defense - that time he had fallen in the curb in the street in the cold. It wasn't safe to leave him there.) So I inspected him without touching him.
"Can you move your fingers?"
Slight movement
"Can you move your head out from under the cabinet?"
He made a move to show me it might be possible.
"Can you wiggle your toes?"
Wiggle right foot. Wiggle left foot.
"How long have you been there?"
"About half an hour."
This would be about right. The nurse would have left at 12 and by now it 12.55. How fortunate that I had just stopped by, as the next nurse would have been on shift at 4pm.
I paced around, what to do, what to do. I could see our plan of moving to Sydney, flying out the window. I recalled my conversation with him the night before... about my biggest fear of walking into his house and finding him lying on the floor. I can stroke that fear off my list. Been there, done that.
I remembered his Lifeline unit - and the button around his neck. I asked why he didn't use it... "Didn't think of it, I guess," was his reply.
I went to the main unit, and pressed the Aide button. Instantly, a person came on... knew who I was and sent an ambulance straight away.
I covered him with a blanket - I'm getting good with this first aid stuff - and set in to wait. Actually - I ate the lunch I'd brought, and chatted to dad. I couldn't believe I could eat. However... I was starved, and knew I'd need the fuel to get through what was to happen next, whatever that would be.
Waiting for the paramedics, I slipped into another room to make a call. Hearing voices in the hallway, I abruptly ended the call and ran into the paramedics in the hallway. They told me that they had to be let in by the block watch lady, as they had tried the intercom 6x and it disconnected every time. (Months of trying to resolve this, not getting to the bottom of it, and now the paramedics can't get in at the front door!? Another problem to resolve. Later.)
Dad was assessed, then they helped him up and onto the kitchen chair. I couldn't believe it. Nothing was broken. He didn't even have a scratch or mark from where his head was wedged under the cabinet. He was completely coherent, had no signs of a stroke, and whatever else it is that they assess for! Reading back through the nurses notes, it was noticed that he'd missed his Sinemet that morning. The symptoms he was displaying: fatigue, muscles slow to respond, lined up with a missed Sinemet dose. Now... dad has missed Sinemet doses before, but none had effected him like this. Seeing him use his walker to walk, his feet barely responding, broke my heart just a little.
The paramedics decided the best thing to do was leave him at home to rest; I'd keep an eye on him as I would be running errands in the area, and the next nurse would be there at 4pm. He'd probably get better attention at home than in the hospital.
I left dad to rest in the blue chair and went into the bedroom to collect the night stands to take to donate to the thrift store. And if I didn't find his "Help, I've fallen and I Can't Get Up" button that he typically wears around his neck, sitting on his night stand. Well! Pretty hard to press a button around your neck for help if you've fallen, when said button is through kitchen, across the dining room and sitting in your bedroom!!! (I recalled a comment he had made to me last week about not needing the button any more as it was useless. Well! It IS useless if you're not wearing it!)
... later that day...
I arrived at his place at 8pm to give him his 8pm pill and assist him into his bed. I arrived ready to tell him not to worry, we'd take care of him. We'd continue to follow through on the plans, that he needn't worry further on anything. That was my intention. However, the charm of dementia et al is, sometimes, especially in stressful situations, the patient becomes defiant, and frankly, delusional. All I wanted to do was be at home in my own bed... but it took me an hour of coaxing, sheet changing and some more coaxing to get him into bed, lights out, so that I could breath a sigh of relief.
I don't recall the last time I've been so happy to see the back end of a day.
There are times when it helps to draw on the memories I have of dad... memories of him climbing up a ladder, his shoulder loaded up with 2x4s. Today was one of those days.
I had been out happily running errands, chatting on my phone, and then ordered lunch to eat at dad's place before clearing out some more of his things.
I pushed open the heavy door into dad's apartment, "Hello?"
He wasn't in his blue chair as per usual. I stepped into the hallway, put down my things and went looking for him. "Dad? Are you here?" I looked into the nook where his walker is stored, as sometimes he goes out for walks, though not so much, lately.
I walked in a little further and peeked into the kitchen... and if he wasn't lying on his left side on the cold tile floor, head wedged under the cabinet overhang.
"DAD! What are you doing there?"
Mumble.
"Are you alright?"
More mumble.
It was instantly evident that he'd gotten up from the table from lunch and stumbled over his own two feet. And there he lay, wedged under the cabinet. I recalled my first aid pep talk to myself from the previous time he fell over and I moved him. (In my defense - that time he had fallen in the curb in the street in the cold. It wasn't safe to leave him there.) So I inspected him without touching him.
"Can you move your fingers?"
Slight movement
"Can you move your head out from under the cabinet?"
He made a move to show me it might be possible.
"Can you wiggle your toes?"
Wiggle right foot. Wiggle left foot.
"How long have you been there?"
"About half an hour."
This would be about right. The nurse would have left at 12 and by now it 12.55. How fortunate that I had just stopped by, as the next nurse would have been on shift at 4pm.
I paced around, what to do, what to do. I could see our plan of moving to Sydney, flying out the window. I recalled my conversation with him the night before... about my biggest fear of walking into his house and finding him lying on the floor. I can stroke that fear off my list. Been there, done that.
I remembered his Lifeline unit - and the button around his neck. I asked why he didn't use it... "Didn't think of it, I guess," was his reply.
I went to the main unit, and pressed the Aide button. Instantly, a person came on... knew who I was and sent an ambulance straight away.
I covered him with a blanket - I'm getting good with this first aid stuff - and set in to wait. Actually - I ate the lunch I'd brought, and chatted to dad. I couldn't believe I could eat. However... I was starved, and knew I'd need the fuel to get through what was to happen next, whatever that would be.
Waiting for the paramedics, I slipped into another room to make a call. Hearing voices in the hallway, I abruptly ended the call and ran into the paramedics in the hallway. They told me that they had to be let in by the block watch lady, as they had tried the intercom 6x and it disconnected every time. (Months of trying to resolve this, not getting to the bottom of it, and now the paramedics can't get in at the front door!? Another problem to resolve. Later.)
Dad was assessed, then they helped him up and onto the kitchen chair. I couldn't believe it. Nothing was broken. He didn't even have a scratch or mark from where his head was wedged under the cabinet. He was completely coherent, had no signs of a stroke, and whatever else it is that they assess for! Reading back through the nurses notes, it was noticed that he'd missed his Sinemet that morning. The symptoms he was displaying: fatigue, muscles slow to respond, lined up with a missed Sinemet dose. Now... dad has missed Sinemet doses before, but none had effected him like this. Seeing him use his walker to walk, his feet barely responding, broke my heart just a little.
The paramedics decided the best thing to do was leave him at home to rest; I'd keep an eye on him as I would be running errands in the area, and the next nurse would be there at 4pm. He'd probably get better attention at home than in the hospital.
I left dad to rest in the blue chair and went into the bedroom to collect the night stands to take to donate to the thrift store. And if I didn't find his "Help, I've fallen and I Can't Get Up" button that he typically wears around his neck, sitting on his night stand. Well! Pretty hard to press a button around your neck for help if you've fallen, when said button is through kitchen, across the dining room and sitting in your bedroom!!! (I recalled a comment he had made to me last week about not needing the button any more as it was useless. Well! It IS useless if you're not wearing it!)
... later that day...
I arrived at his place at 8pm to give him his 8pm pill and assist him into his bed. I arrived ready to tell him not to worry, we'd take care of him. We'd continue to follow through on the plans, that he needn't worry further on anything. That was my intention. However, the charm of dementia et al is, sometimes, especially in stressful situations, the patient becomes defiant, and frankly, delusional. All I wanted to do was be at home in my own bed... but it took me an hour of coaxing, sheet changing and some more coaxing to get him into bed, lights out, so that I could breath a sigh of relief.
I don't recall the last time I've been so happy to see the back end of a day.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Goodbyes
Bit of an emotional wreck this evening. Thinking of moving to Sydney, all I could think was... warm weather, family, job opportunity and those fabulous beaches. And the coffee. And the Cherry Ripes. For years, I ran comparison charts in my head, with Sydney winning out every time.
Tonight we sat down to work out some details of a farewell party, and all I can think is, how do I say goodbye to so many wonderful friends who have touched our lives over the past 30 years? Am I crazy to be taking dad out of what he has known for the past 30 years?
Again, I know I've made the right decision. It's not going to be easy though. I asked if I had to show up to my own farewell party... and was told that sadly, I do.
The half filled boxes and debris strewn across the living room floor don't help. One box holds games... I can see the title 'Probe' from where I sit, and recall many a family game played around the table. Dad saying do you have an 'Ssssss'? And when we said No, he'd say, "Did I say 'S'? I meant an 'F' " - to which we always groaned 'Daaaaaaad'. And he'd smile quietly to himself.
There's my little fake Christmas tree, lights attached. Perfect apartment size, because of limited storage space. Little tree went up every early December, to provide cheer in one of the darkest months of the year.
Tissue paper is tossed elsewhere... and I'm reminded of my gift bag trick... always leaving gift wrapping till the last minute... realizing I was ready to walk out the door but the gift wasn't. Gift bags and tissue paper helped with that. Until i realized I could buy myself another 5 minutes! So girls, that's why I was always late to a bridal shower, baby shower, birthday party... I was always stuffing the gift bag at the very end!!
I lost count a long time ago of how many weddings, babies, new homes and other farewells I've been to. Time stands still for no one. While we can share in another's life, we have to live our own life. Now is the time for us to move on to the next step, and it is the right decision. Just as long as I survive the goodbyes.
Tonight we sat down to work out some details of a farewell party, and all I can think is, how do I say goodbye to so many wonderful friends who have touched our lives over the past 30 years? Am I crazy to be taking dad out of what he has known for the past 30 years?
Again, I know I've made the right decision. It's not going to be easy though. I asked if I had to show up to my own farewell party... and was told that sadly, I do.
The half filled boxes and debris strewn across the living room floor don't help. One box holds games... I can see the title 'Probe' from where I sit, and recall many a family game played around the table. Dad saying do you have an 'Ssssss'? And when we said No, he'd say, "Did I say 'S'? I meant an 'F' " - to which we always groaned 'Daaaaaaad'. And he'd smile quietly to himself.
There's my little fake Christmas tree, lights attached. Perfect apartment size, because of limited storage space. Little tree went up every early December, to provide cheer in one of the darkest months of the year.
Tissue paper is tossed elsewhere... and I'm reminded of my gift bag trick... always leaving gift wrapping till the last minute... realizing I was ready to walk out the door but the gift wasn't. Gift bags and tissue paper helped with that. Until i realized I could buy myself another 5 minutes! So girls, that's why I was always late to a bridal shower, baby shower, birthday party... I was always stuffing the gift bag at the very end!!
I lost count a long time ago of how many weddings, babies, new homes and other farewells I've been to. Time stands still for no one. While we can share in another's life, we have to live our own life. Now is the time for us to move on to the next step, and it is the right decision. Just as long as I survive the goodbyes.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Who's Idea Was This?
An international move is for the birds! It's moving house + spring cleaning + international travel destination all rolled into one. Well, times that by two. No sooner do I leave my place and go over to dad's, and there is more work there. Things are slowly coming together though... a little bit every day. Starting to see progress with some furniture moved out... and a lot of stuff donated to charity.
At least the oven is clean... that's a messy, icky job that was hanging over my head. Fridge is next. May as well get it clean and enjoy it for a bit! And how did I not discover SOS cleaning pads before this? I thought my little box of 10 was overkill... now I'm wondering if I should be stocking up on more! Cleaning is therapeutic and gives you time to think... is it any wonder I'm cleaning every nook and crevice! Lot's to cure and think on!
At least the oven is clean... that's a messy, icky job that was hanging over my head. Fridge is next. May as well get it clean and enjoy it for a bit! And how did I not discover SOS cleaning pads before this? I thought my little box of 10 was overkill... now I'm wondering if I should be stocking up on more! Cleaning is therapeutic and gives you time to think... is it any wonder I'm cleaning every nook and crevice! Lot's to cure and think on!
Slighty Positive
(September 8, 2011)
Feeling a bit more relaxed and happy today. Which is an odd feeling! First, I've not felt this way in a long time. Secondly, I have an absolute mound of stuff to get through before we leave in 4 weeks. However, the calendar is scribbled with stuff that needs to be done every day. Getting organized is peace of mind. And taking the time out just to breathe and relax is equally as important.
It seems that dad is a bit more at peace with the decision as well. Though that has not been the case in the past few days. He's been asking questions and expressing doubts, which quite frankly, is too late in the game for that. I had discussed things with him, and thought that it had been resolved. Unfortunately with the short term memory loss, he forgets and I seem to be having to reassure him over and over again. I had a long discussion with him yesterday and I think I got through to him. I said that we need to be settled with the decision we've made and now work towards the goal.
When I saw him today, he seemed a bit more upbeat. He even asked if he could do anything to help! Big progress!
The auction house comes tomorrow to remove some of the larger furniture in hopes of selling it and making some money on it. Dad knows the exact furniture that is going... he surprised me yesterday by listing it off. More positive news. He's going to be rattling around that place for a while without furniture... but maybe it will give him a chance to adapt to the change that's coming. Besides... the furniture is pink, and floral, and mom picked it out. The next space he moves into, I will hopefully get a chance to help him style it more to his personality. Life changes are tough... you just need to find some tools to help you adapt.
Feeling a bit more relaxed and happy today. Which is an odd feeling! First, I've not felt this way in a long time. Secondly, I have an absolute mound of stuff to get through before we leave in 4 weeks. However, the calendar is scribbled with stuff that needs to be done every day. Getting organized is peace of mind. And taking the time out just to breathe and relax is equally as important.
It seems that dad is a bit more at peace with the decision as well. Though that has not been the case in the past few days. He's been asking questions and expressing doubts, which quite frankly, is too late in the game for that. I had discussed things with him, and thought that it had been resolved. Unfortunately with the short term memory loss, he forgets and I seem to be having to reassure him over and over again. I had a long discussion with him yesterday and I think I got through to him. I said that we need to be settled with the decision we've made and now work towards the goal.
When I saw him today, he seemed a bit more upbeat. He even asked if he could do anything to help! Big progress!
The auction house comes tomorrow to remove some of the larger furniture in hopes of selling it and making some money on it. Dad knows the exact furniture that is going... he surprised me yesterday by listing it off. More positive news. He's going to be rattling around that place for a while without furniture... but maybe it will give him a chance to adapt to the change that's coming. Besides... the furniture is pink, and floral, and mom picked it out. The next space he moves into, I will hopefully get a chance to help him style it more to his personality. Life changes are tough... you just need to find some tools to help you adapt.
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