September 22 Breakfast

Dad was up and in the bathroom when I arrived.  The diarrhea is back. I know they gave the anti-diarrheal yesterday and I made sure he got one this morning.  It took us half an hour, but he dressed and walked, yes walked, to the dining room.  This is the kind of stuff that truly amazes me. He had to rest three times while buttoning his pants, but grabbed the walker and headed for breakfast walking right past the wheelchair.

He did eat a little more than yesterday:  a couple of spoonfuls of oatmeal, scrambled eggs, and part of the waffle and sausage.  The conversations overheard in the dining room are precious. Two women chatting over coffee, "the physical therapist worked me very hard yesterday.  Does she realize how old I am?". Then the 82 year old asked the 96 year old if she still drove. "yes, I have two more years on my license. Don't you?"  Then in response to the 96 yo saying the driving tester did not even make her take the driving part of her test, the 82 yo said "He probably feared for his safety!"

I glanced at the blood test results from the other day.  Dad's BUN was a little lower and the creatinine was 4.0. His platelets improved a tad to 37.  His B/P was 120/80.  I also looked at some of his liver numbers and the ones I saw were in the normal range.

I spoke briefly with nurse Julie and she said Rosewood does provide hospice. The first step is to have the doctor evaluate him to see if he is a candidate (she said unfortunately, almost everyone here is a candidate), then we would speak with Pam to let her know which organization we prefer, and Dad would have to stop physical therapy.

Dad is resting in his room after taking his morning meds.  Julie ground them up in applesauce to make them easier to swallow, but it sure spoiled the taste of the applesauce.  Tom just called.  He is due to meet me here in a few minutes.