Another nightmare about Dad last night. I was looking for him in a grand hotel and the hotel clerk was telling me he was dead. I woke up screaming. Tiger Lily, my grouchy calico, climbed over my shoulder so she could settle her chubby body in my arms and purr the lingering bits of dream away.
Dad’s having another bad alzheimer’s day. He says, “it’s only a few days since I became blind and I don’t know what I’m going to do. How do they decide when you’re going to be blind?” “Nobody decides, Dad, it’s just that something stops working, like when a pipe leaks, nobody decided . it’s just broken.” “I’m not so sure about that. Are you sure nobody decides?” “I’m definitely sure, Dad.”
Reading Dad an article about the octuplets, he got confused and thought they were kittens. Then, when he finally understood that they were people, he thought they were my eight babies! Then, ordering his groceries, the delivery slot I wanted was taken and I was grumbling. Dad was totally confused – I tried and tried to explain, but he started making this gesture which he’s started to use lately, kind of a cross between the twirling-finger “crazy sign” and a salute off the top of the head. It’s his I-don’t-understand sign.
I’m used to being able to explain things so he understands and this new lack of comprehension is really distressing. It’s not all the time, but I know it’s going to happen more and more.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment