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.