Farewell

Very sad to write and let you know that dad passed away peacefully in the early hours of this morning.  We are so sad that he's gone, but thankful that he has been released from the lengthy struggle with Parkinson's disease.  Thank you to everyone for your messages of love, comfort and support.  I will post more soon...

The Hardest Post

For once, I am at a loss for words.  With all the posts I have written, I never imagined myself writing this one.  Dad's condition has deteriorated since the last time I posted.  Indeed, on Sunday night, he wasn't interested much in eating.  We got the phone call Monday afternoon from the care home to say that dad wasn't interested in eating, drinking or taking his medication.  On top of that, he had a slight fever.  When I saw him Monday afternoon, I couldn't believe it was the same dad who had been sitting up, eating some meat, potatoes and three scoops of ice cream a couple of nights prior.  He was exhausted and sleeping. In the past, he has rallied, and pulled through.  This time, we know it is different... they are doing all they can to keep him comfortable.  I will post more when I can.

Sadness

July 2001

Last night my brother returned my stock pots and left them at the front entrance.  As I was taking my shoes off, I noticed that they were blocking the route to the door.  I had the thought that I should move them as they blocked access in case of fire.  At that moment, a great wave of sadness washed over me, as I realised that was a thought that dad had drilled into my head, and he no longer understands to look out for me.  Wherever I lived, he always worried about an escape route in case of a fire and I would have to explain my plan to him.  He always made sure I understood not to leave candles burning, or electrical appliances on when I left the house.  (Perhaps he was slightly paranoid, but I think he came across some fire cases when he was a builder and knew how easily something could happen.)  He also reminded me to drive with extra caution in the rain after a dry spell as the roads could be slick.  Or inquired after the oil levels in my car... because he knew it wasn't high on my levels of interest.  All those things a dad looks out for for his children... now I will just have to listen to the words of advice he has imprinted on my brain.

There has been a shift in dad's condition.  He had been slowing down a bit... and at the beginning of last week I noticed a significant change.  By the end of that week, he was sleeping most of the time and very difficult to arouse.  Upon inquiry, I was informed that he had been put on a patch for pain management.  Indeed, when I spoke to him last Saturday night when he finally woke up, he managed to explain that he had pain in his spine and hips.  He has had the back pain since he had the accident on the job site back in April 1996... with the combination of osteoarthritis and sitting all day, the pain must be continuous.

I have been trying to see him most days now.  If I miss a day, I am slightly worried over what I have missed.  When I do visit now, there's a lump in my throat.  During yesterday's visit, he slept most of the time.  When he is awake, he is still taking in everything around him, and still smiling when he understands something funny.

And yes, I had to relocate the pots out of the way last night.  I am my father's daughter, after all.

Catching Up

Dad's balcony view

I have memories of dad heading off to work as a builder in the summer heat, large Thermos full of water and ice to keep him going all day.  When he came home, sweat and saw dust at his hairline, he would stand at the sink and down two glasses of water in a row until his thirst was quenched.  Years ago, he also took a Thermos of coffee every day. ( I recall it smelling good, so would help myself to a cupful if I was ever on the job site with him.  It was horrid, bitter stuff that had sat in the jug all day.  Adults raved about it, so I drank it thinking it was the cool thing to do!)  One day, dad quit coffee, cold turkey.  Never touched it again. After mom passed away, I think he had tea on possibly two occasions.  The point of my story is, water was dad’s drink of choice.  How good does a glass of water taste when you are thirsty.  So it breaks my heart a little to know he cannot drink water anymore.  Unless an additive is added to make it thicker.  See, the thing with this stupid rotten Parkinson’s disease it that it strips you of every last single pleasure in life.  I do not know the entire reason why, and to be sure, am slightly afraid of researching it.  The muscles start to degenerate... so the tongue, the throat, the jaw which all used in eating and drinking do not work like they used to.  Dad has been seen by a speech pathologist who has requested that he drink thickened fluids only.  If he does drink water, it can go down the wrong way, end up in his lungs and he can get an infection.  (Hence the fear a couple of weeks back that we may have required a visit to hospital for a round of antibiotics.)  Even after drinking thickened fluids, he can end up in a coughing fit.

I have been loath to write about dad’s condition as it is very private.  Guess this is the reality of the situation now, so no point in hiding it.  Dad has not been feeding himself for some time now, and requires assistance.  Usually the care aides at the home help him, and I do not make a special effort to be there with him.  I was there at dinnertime tonight to help him eat.  He doesn’t eat much, and I notice now that he is having more problems chewing.  While he’s currently eating regular food, I am quite sure that it is only a matter of time before that changes. 

I would like to spend more time with him.  Sadly life with all its responsibilities continues on.  This is why you are not meant to lose your parents until you are in your 60s and semi retired; not in your 30s and 40s which are meant to be your prime earning years for your retirement.  Is it any wonder I wake up at 3 and 4am most nights, worrying as to what is going to happen to us.

Still, the blessing in all of this is that he still remembers who we are.  I always get a smile when I show up!  Though I usually arrive with big waves and some sort of silly greeting... so is it any wonder!  I read a comment on Twitter the other day that mentioned people with dementia are good company.  I had never thought of it that way before, but that is exactly how it feels, visiting dad.  Today we sat out on his balcony, overlooking the back garden, and it was peaceful and relaxing.  This story is probably better left unsaid, but I need an injection of humour right about now.  My brother reminded me the other day of a silly saying dad used to say; “When you see me coming, you’d better step aside.  A lot of men didn’t and a lot of men died.”  When I quoted this back to him today, he had a little grin on his face.  Yep... the sense of humour is still there.

Conversations with dad bounce from subject to subject in one sentence.  Indeed, I usually cannot understand what he is saying.  One minute he was asking me about a lamp in the backyard, then next he mentioned something a barbeque.  When I asked him if it was a barbeque he wanted, he said yes, that would be nice.  As luck would have it... there is a yummy Portuguese chicken shop at the end of the street in Rose Bay.  Will have to make a stop there within the next few days.