Roller Coaster

A bit of a crazy week this one... or rather, the past few days.  Dad had to go in to hospital the other night due to a fever.  They called to let me know at 9.30 in the evening.  I dashed to dad's place to ride with him to the hospital; to reassure him and explain what was going on.  He had no idea!  One minute he was eating dinner, the next he was strapped into a stretcher and riding off to the emergency room.

Call me a drama queen, call me paranoid.  I just find it easier to go with dad to the hospital so things go smoothly.  Once he is on his back, he has a hard time speaking.  If he is at all confused and shocked, he cannot even make a noise.  I have to be there to communicate for him, and answer all sorts of personal and medical questions.  Questions such as... "Is your dad always like this or does he respond?"  I have seen him enough times like that to know it is normal for the situation.  I told them that he was responding to me, and they had a hard time believing that!  At one point, he had fallen asleep.  When he opened his eyes, I watched him looking around, taking it all in.  I knew then that he may not be feeling well, but he was still in there somewhere! I had to remember that they only see dad in the situation, they don't know what he's like most of the time.

Poor thing... he was asking me what was going on.  I had to tell him several times that he had a fever due to infection and they needed to give him antibiotics intravenously.  It's also been quite warm here, so he was a bit dehydrated.  I left the hospital that Wednesday evening with that familiar feeling of trepidation.  The doctor had reassured me that dad would be well taken care of.  I was not worried about his care.  (I have been so thankful for the prompt, thorough care we have received at the emergency department here.)  Still, I am aware of the complications of Parkinson's, and one never knows what is going to unravel.

The following day, we found out that the fever was due to a couple of infections.  One infection, in the lungs, they thought was due to aspirating on a piece of food... a lovely side effect of Parkinson's and swallowing.  Dad was given antibiotics and placed on thickened fluids.  In my poor, stressed brain, I thought he was permanently being placed on thickened fluids and was really upset, as where is the joy in life if one cannot eat food!  (He is still on thickened liquids, but has been upgraded to eating most foods.  They'll monitor his situation and adjust as he continues to improve.)  When I visited dad in the late afternoon, he was writhing around in bed, pulling at his bed clothes and generally agitated.  Antibiotics seem to have that effect on his brain. I was loathe to leave.

Yesterday afternoon, Friday... I had a call from the care home to say that dad was back at home.  Huh?  They said he was chatty (though not making much sense), and greeting all the staff.  When I got there at dinner time, he turned and gave me a big smile and I honestly fell over laughing.  He looked at me doubled over in laughter and gave another grin.  How was this the same person from the past two days??

Even still, when I went there today, he was looking the best I have seen him in a while.  He was calm and content, sitting quietly in his chair with his hands crossed..  Sitting out on the balcony, he looked up at the vent stacks on the tile roof and commented that it looked like the French Quarter.  What!?  He was more on the ball that I was!!  What a man.  Honestly.  If he wanted a change of scenery, all he had to do was ask!

Love is All You Need

My brother and I often marvel at how on the ball dad can be in some moments.  Like the one day he told me what temperature it was outside.  Not sure if it was an educated guess, but one cannot tell with him.  The other night, I stopped by to see him at dinner time.  A couple of volunteer students were standing beside him at the table, blocking his view of me.  I tried to sneak in, but I saw him register my face.  I ducked behind his chair, but I saw him rotate his head and put his hand up for me.  Sometimes there is just no pulling the wool over his eyes!

The past few times I have visited dad, he's reached out his hand to draw me in to give me a kiss goodbye and thank me very much for coming.  My heart does a little skip.  Communication is key in our lives... after all, we live in the information age!  When you want to connect with someone, you can text, email, call, Skype, Facebook, Instagram, Tweet.  Our communication is firing at top speed, always remembering connections and conversations.  Visiting with dad; he usually cannot communicate more than a sentence or two.  This has been frustrating and sad.  Rather quite frustrating for someone who likes to blab the day away.  Favourite family comments to me were; "Don't feel you have to talk." or "Are you talking just to listen to the sound of your voice?"  Yes, I like to natter away, so you can understand how I feel when I want to download to dad and he just doesn't get it.

In thinking on this, and recalling dad's response to me, that's when I had the thought... "Love is all you need."  You don't always need to sit there and fill the void with words.  Rather, I can sit there and give dad his dinner, or read a magazine.  He is reassured by my presence (and perhaps I am reassured by his) and he knows I am there because I care.  In our modern world of constant chatter, we (I) need to be reminded that there is nothing wrong (or awkward) with sitting still and being quiet.

(The photo above was shot as I walked out the door to head to dad's the other day.  Bushfires in the west carried smoke over Sydney and turned the sun into an eerie red ball.)

Meat and Two Veg. And Anzacs too!

I visited dad the other day at meal time, and if he wasn't eating roast beef with gravy, roasted potatoes and carrots!  I had made Anzac biscuits, so he got to eat them with his ice cream for dessert.  I asked him if he remembered that he used to crumble mom's Anzacs over the top of his ice cream... he seemed to remember that.  It's so strange... I have my mom's Anzac recipe... but cannot get them the same way she did.  Hers were always thin and crisp... just the way they liked them.  I like chewy Anzacs, and that's how mine turn out... no matter how much I try to make them like mom's.  I apologized to dad for the cookies being chewy and not crunchy... and he said, "They'll do."  To which I replied, "They'll do in a pinch, right?"  It is nice to have some moments of normality.

Back to the lockdown episode from the last post... the care home ended up being in lockdown for 12 days!  Just as they were ready to open, another 'incident' would occur, and they'd have to wait the requisite time before they could open again.  Thankfully dad wasn't involved in that!  Moving forward...

Have been experiencing a bit of guilt in not being in to visit dad as often as I can recently.  I think the pause in visiting got me into some bad habits.  To be honest, it is enjoyable to visit dad... once I get there, that is.  Sometimes we have a snack on the back patio, or hot chocolate in the amenity room, or chat in the sitting area.  You never regret slowing down for a while and giving consideration to life, even though life seems to have us running in circles for no given reason.  Must sort that out!  (I'll get back to you on the secret once I've figured it out!)