October 9th The New Room

Dad was up and sitting at the table when I arrived at 7.  They had put the headset on and all I had to do was say "hello" and sit down.  After we settled in Chuck said he had been to PT before breakfast.  I repeated it to Dad and as soon as he heard the words "PT" he shivered at the thought.  Humor in tack - check.

He sipped on some orange juice, declined apple juice, and though he said he was not hungry, asked for some scrambled eggs.  While we were waiting, Chuck fell asleep and woke with a start.  "What scared him?", Dad asked.  "He's trying to fall asleep on us Dad".  "C'mon, Charlie, try and stay awake -  at least until breakfast gets here."

Two small bites of egg and we had to excuse ourselves back to the room.  Almost everything I saw go down came right back up again.  He took a little time, the process was exhausting, laid his head on the sink in frustration, then said "let's go sit out there."

We moved to the bedroom and just sat in silence for awhile.  He looked at me and said, "John, I'm starting to see things."

"What did you see?"

"A little girl, over by the dressor looking at all the things over there."

"Did you recognize her?"

"No, she had curly hair though.  I don't know if seeing things is a good or a bad thing."

As I sat there pondering his apparition the eraser board fell off the wall behind me with a thud!  Ah, a mischievious little girl at that...or just bad stickum on the eraser board.

We sat there for another thirty minutes or so, he did not say much.   He asked to lay down and we got him into bed.  Again, the jostling of moving from the chair to the bed almost made him throw up again.  He asked for the gray tray.  Thankfully, we did not need it.

Not three minutes later Nurse Julie came in with his meds.  I told her he threw up his ounce of orange juice and that I wasn't sure if he would do the same with the meds.  She blended it in applesauce and walked over to Dad.  Dad dutifully opened his mouth and took the pill-ladened applesauce, chewed and swallowed.  As we watched and waited for what he would do next, he gave the "hit me" sign.  Julie looked at me, "What does he want?"  "Another bite of applesauce", I said.  She went and got another little container, put a spoonful of applesauce on it, and he had his mouth open, waiting like a baby bird for a worm.  I wonder if they have applesauce in the lunch room?

I stayed another twenty minutes in case the applesauce came back up and he needed help.  There were a couple of times he had an anguished look on his face, but everything stayed down.

Is this a variation of the Stockholm Syndrome?  I find myself becoming attached to the people, both residents and staff, at Rosewood.

October 8th - Still Trying to Eat

Once again Dad was sitting in the dining room when I arrived at 7:10.  I went and got his ears from his room, put them on and said hello.  He had some orange juice and apple juice.  It was about 20 minutes later we got some scrambled eggs and he took a few bites.  He told me he was full on juice and I said, "You don't have to eat the eggs if you don't want to".

"No, no, I want to eat the scrambled eggs."  They stayed down for the next 90 minutes I was there.  We sat in the dining room until about 8:20 then rolled around a bit and settled in the Rose Room again looking out the big windows.  Finally he asked to go back to his room and we sat there for about 10 minutes.  When he got up to get into bed the movement seemed to unsettle his stomach and we paused for a bit before he laid back.

He was fairly quiet.  I told him that Obama was coming to town and he replied, "That's good.  He knows how to get votes."  Chuck gave him some encouragement to eat while he was battening down the hatch of what he just swallowed.  I told Chuck that Dad was watching his figure and Dad said, "If I don't, none of these pretty girls are going to want to look at me".  He also mentioned Cate was going to question me about massage and I told him I was going to write a book called Massage for Dummies.  "Good idea."  Other money making ideas, pick up the butter packs to sell to restaurants.  I don't believe I've seen anyone open one of those foil packs in weeks and yet they are on every table.  And, they put them in a place where the residents place there drinks on the table.  It's a spill hazard.  Better yet, find a way to give the residents butter in a container they can actually open.

After Dad laid down Wayne, his roommate, told me that Dad had had a fitfull night in bed.  "It sounded like he was having some bad dreams.  And, every time he moves in that bed I can hear it and I heard it alot last night."  I thanked him for the info and for keeping an eye on Dad and headed off to work.

The First Video

The first video is up.  I know there are likely better songs.  I chose this to be the first one to work on first for two reasons, as a tribute to all of you, my brothers and sister, for being there, and because Dad has always been a sucker for a good waltz.

I can make any changes.  If I left someone out or you have a special photo you want in this video please let me know.  I am happy to make any changes.  If you can't see the video here you can click this link:
Family

Love,

October 7th - Hang in There

I didn't arrive until a quarter after seven and Dad was already in the dining room.  He said the aide came in and got him dressed in thirty seconds flat.  The consensus was that Rosewood is a little short handed on Sundays and they were getting everyone to the dining room early.  Dad tried some orange juice and scrambled eggs.  He added a bit of apple juice.  They didn't have any clean bibs - I think laundry is short handed too - and everything Dad had eaten came right back up.

We headed back to the room to get cleaned up.  He was really disappointed.  I put the clothes in his dirty laundry bag.  He wanted a different pair of shorts.  I held up a pair that looked small and he said, "You should take those home.  I can't fit into them anymore", so I put a note on them for Tom.

After we cleaned up, I asked what he wanted to do and he said. "Let's go somewhere."  It was fairly cool outside, so we did a couple of up-and-downs of the hallways before settling in the Rose Room.  We rolled up to the big sliding glass door so we could pretend that we were sitting outside and still stay warm.

He had related to me how disappointed he was in the morning, "I woke up feeling  good, had some orange juice, I don't know, maybe I had too much, but then it all came back up.  I don't know what's going on."

We sat there for awhile in silence.  Dad's comprehension of words is diminishing.  Dad has said "I love you" to me a couple of times.  It's usually when I leave as a way of saying good-bye.  This morning he broke the silence by saying, "I love you, John".  I told him I loved him too and, after a few minutes went by, asked, "If you were sitting where I am and I was in the wheelchair in the same condition you are in, what do you think you would say to me?"  It was a complicated question, I know, and I had to go over it three times, but I could see he finally got it when he looked into my face, stopped a second, and said, "I'd tell you to hang in there, son."

We moved on to softer topics.  I asked if he got to see the grandkids, "Oh, yeah, that Rob sure has a nice family."  He went on, "The kids were having a great time playing with that thing.", as he pointed to the amplifier.

Cate came in and we had some warm moments before his stomach started making grumblings again.  We thought it better to head back to his room before it erupted in the dining area.  It settled down some and he used the bathroom and went back to bed.  I can't tell you why, but I don't think he was particularly tired.  As I sat at the side of his bed, he grabbed my hand and once more said, "I love you."  I sat there a moment and just soaked it in, kissed him, and waved good-bye.

October 6th - He's So Funny

He was lying awake when I arrived.  I put the head phones on and he told me he had had a nice visit with his sister, Marge, the night before.  We talked for awhile and when I mentioned the hygienist was coming he said, "We better get going then." 

He got up used the toilet and then we put on his shorts.  We were having trouble with the button and he looked at me, sat down and pulled his shirt over the front of his pants.  "Does, that cover it?"  "Yep, that does it"

We went into the dining room.  Cate arrived a short time later and asked Dad how he was doing, "Good".

Cate said, "You always say you're doing good?"

He looked up at her and said, "Well, then, I'm doing lousy.  How's that?", as we all had a bit of a chuckle.

Chuck finished his breakfast and asked for a Danish.  The cook said, "I'll bring you one, but I'm worried about your diabetes."

"The only way my sugar will go up is if you kiss me!", was Chuck's reply. 

We sat in there for a good while after everyone had left.  It's a bigger space and warmer than his room.  He asked about the man across the table, Mr. King, "Did he eat anything?" 

"Yeah", I said, "He ate pretty well."

"Good, 'cause yesterday he couldn't keep his head up to eat."  It sounded as if he were truly concerned about him and I believe he was.

The hygenist came and set up her chair and equipment.  When she was ready, we had to move Dad from the wheel chair to the dental chair.  As he stood up to make the transfer, the decision to not button his shorts came back to haunt us.  We recovered however and Dad tolerated the cleaning very well.  We had told him to raise his hand if he needed her to stop at anytime.  She would stop and let him catch his breath from time to time.  He never once stopped her. 

He climbed into bed and Bill came in for an inspection and Dad asked if he had brought his sunglasses, "Are they too shiny for you?"  Mary Beth witnessed the exchanged and look at me and said, "He is so funny."

Yes.  Yes, he is.

October 5 Senior Olympics

Dad was asleep when I arrived, but woke up once I sat on his bed.  His eyes brightened a bit as he said good morning.  I said good morning and I just got the slight movement of his head indicating "nope, can't hear ya".  I just sat there awhile lightly rubbing his legs and arms awake.  He said, "I had a friend from Arkansas who once told me 'My innards don't work so good', now I know what he means."

I put the headphones on and said, "We don't have to go to breakfast if you do not want to.  You can just sleep in.", knowing that whatever he would be able to get down could not possibly be worth the effort of getting up.

"No, we gotta get up and get ready.  I'm not sure what I can eat anymore.  Can't have milk.  Can't have hot chocolate.  But we'll find something.  I want to get up."  We did, it went smoothly, and we headed into the dining room. 

We chose the cream of wheat because it contains no dairy and looked like it had the greatest likelyhood of going down.  He had a few spoonfuls of that, some coffee, and apple juice over the course of half an hour. 

Chuck entertained us with his invention made from a coat hanger.  He could use it to pick up his hat, put on his slippers, scratch his back, even hook one of the girls walking by.  It covered all the necessities in Chuck's life, we surmised.  We tried to come up with a name for it.  I was pushing for the "Chuck Pluck" 'cause you could pluck most anyting from anywhere.  Chuck favored the "I Got It" because that's what you say when it works.  You should see him on an episode of Shark Tank next season or on Kickstarter soon.

We got back to the room and after a bathroom break we sat in the room for 20 minutes or so until it was time to leave.  Dad thought it would be a good idea to get a little cat nap before everyone showed up.  I made sure he was comfortable and we said good-bye.

On the way out I took the long way to see the festival of the Senior Olympics and took a few photos from the iPad.



The Discus

Ladder Golf

 

 

The Crowd Forming

 

Okay, just who in the hell is climbing this wall?!?  If Dad get's a roommate today, it will likely be because they tried to climb this thing!

October 4th - He Can Hear Again

Just a quick update.  Dad bowels have totally abandoned him and he still has a fairly loose stool.  I spoke with Julie about it and she was going to try and insure Dad gets the anti-diarrheal med on a regular basis.  He said he had a dry mouth and as I slowly woke him up he would occasionally just tie his face into a knot by wincing.  I asked him about it, but with no hearing at that point the question was futile.

We got dressed fairly quickly and were in the dining room by 7:30.  He was able to eat more than yesterday, but I do think it was the cause of the problems that arrived around 8:30.  We had to rush back to the room.  Back in the bathroom he complained of his "damn stomach".

The hearing unit has been a ray of sunshine.  Being able to converse with him without having to double the volume of my voice or saying things three times is so much more comfortable I can't even begin to explain.  We spoke of politics and the previous night's debates.  Even though Dad had not seen or heard any of it, he did wonder when he was going to get his absentee ballot.  I asked him how he was going to vote and he said, "Probably with a check mark."  Okay, smartass, "Who you going to vote for?" and he replied by making the flipping-of-a-coin sign.

He asked about the teeth cleaning.  With the Senior Games happening at Rosewood  on Friday and with Aunt Margie in town, Bill, Cate and I did not want to over tax Dad.  I called the hygienist and she has tentatively rescheduled for Saturday morning.

After a rather tough bathroom session we sat in the room just in case anyone was coming by.  Dad was truly looking forward to seeing his little sister.  Finally, around 9 he said, "You got to go to work!" (It amazes me he still has the where-with-all to keep track of that).  I texted Bill and discovered Marge would not be here for a couple of hours.  Dad, slightly disappointed, slightly relieved, said, "Think I'll take a nap then."  I helped him into bed, and said good-bye.