After an afternoon of wandering through the Central Park Zoo on wednesday, Mike came back with me to visit Dad. Dad was in an unusually argumentative frame of mind. It took some cajoling to get him to eat dinner, and he did so grumpily. While he ate, Mike and I sat on the couch, petting Kristen. “What are you two doing over there in the dark?” Dad suddenly asked. All the lights were on. “Dad, it’s not dark,” I explained, “your eyes are bad.” He clearly didn’t believe me, but kept eating. A few minutes later, he said, “You just came here to fuck.” “That’s not true,” I told him. “I came here to see you,” added Mike, who is in a committed relationship with someone else, but Dad was not mollified. He took a few more mouthfuls. “I’ll be out of the way in a few minutes,” he said. No amount of reassurance could convince him that he was not in the way, and he headed off to bed.
Sexuality seems to be this week’s theme. When I arrived on Thursday, Dad wasn’t wearing any pants. I figured he was going to bed soon, so I didn’t make a fuss about it, but then he started fondling his penis. While I was trying to work through my shock and figure out what to do, Dad must have picked up on my vibes, because he asked, “Does it bother you when I play with my toy – this thing?” “People usually do that in private, Dad,” I told him, struggling to keep my voice calm, because I didn’t want him to feel bad. “I’m not doing it in private, am I?” Dad asked. “No, you’re not,” I told him. “Better cover up,” he said, pulling his sweater down over his thighs. And that was that.
On Friday, Dad was investigating the wall of his apartment. “What are you doing?” I asked. “I’m looking for my visibility. I don’t know where it is,” he responded.
Dad signed my birthday card! I didn’t know he could still write, but Kate S. gave him a pen and he wrote three shaky letters, “D-A-D,” followed by an exclamation point. When Kate S. asked him what the exclamation point was for, he said “I can’t remember the word.” “Emphasis?” she asked. “Yes!” said Dad. We celebrated my birthday at his house, at our Friday night dinner, with an accidentally flourless cake. Nobody knew there was anything wrong until I admitted my mistake (after they’d eaten it!). I guess I’m a little frazzled these days.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Nov. 9, 2009
11/9/09
Something’s up with Dad. On Friday, when Kate S, Brianna and I gathered for our Friday night family dinner at Dad’s place, we found him in bed, asleep. He didn’t emerge until 8pm, stayed up for an hour and a half and then went back to bed. He was asleep again when I arrived on Saturday, didn’t get up until 5pm, and then headed back to bed at 8pm. On Sunday, he was awake, but when Michael tried to give him dinner, he said he wasn’t hungry and refused to eat it, a very unusual behavior for Dad.
I asked him if he felt sick and he said no, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s not sick. I think I’ll take his temperature tonight, just to be sure. Of course, this behavior could also be the result of a psychological issue – Alzheimer’s usually makes people sleep less, not more, but I suppose he might be waking up at night when we’re not there and then sleeping during the day to make up for it. I’m seriously considering setting up a “Dad-cam” in his bedroom so that I can see what he’s doing late at night. If he is becoming nocturnal, then it has implications for scheduling his care – there’s not much point in having people go over there when he’s asleep, but I’d have to hire someone to sit with him at night if he’s awake then. I don’t know how we’d pay for it, but my friends and I can’t stay up at those hours. If he is waking up at night, it must be really late because I stayed at his house until 2am Thursday since I had to catch a 3am train, and he was sound asleep.
Another possibility is depression – or boredom or a combination. His world is definitely becoming increasingly limited. It’s hard to know what to do if depression is the problem – I’m hesitant to add any psychotropic drugs to the mix since they tend to have a lot more adverse reactions in the elderly and his brain’s already pretty scrambled. I suppose I could take him to Dr. Honig, but it takes forever to get an appt with him. If he’s bored, then we need to find more activities for him – a challenge when you add his blindness into the mix. But what if he’s going to bed because the world is too confusing and bed is where he feels safe? In that case he might need less stimulation, not more.
It’s so difficult to figure all this out when dealing with someone who can’t communicate clearly. I almost wish I could bring him to the vet – he’s used to figuring out what’s going on in patients who can’t talk.
Something’s up with Dad. On Friday, when Kate S, Brianna and I gathered for our Friday night family dinner at Dad’s place, we found him in bed, asleep. He didn’t emerge until 8pm, stayed up for an hour and a half and then went back to bed. He was asleep again when I arrived on Saturday, didn’t get up until 5pm, and then headed back to bed at 8pm. On Sunday, he was awake, but when Michael tried to give him dinner, he said he wasn’t hungry and refused to eat it, a very unusual behavior for Dad.
I asked him if he felt sick and he said no, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s not sick. I think I’ll take his temperature tonight, just to be sure. Of course, this behavior could also be the result of a psychological issue – Alzheimer’s usually makes people sleep less, not more, but I suppose he might be waking up at night when we’re not there and then sleeping during the day to make up for it. I’m seriously considering setting up a “Dad-cam” in his bedroom so that I can see what he’s doing late at night. If he is becoming nocturnal, then it has implications for scheduling his care – there’s not much point in having people go over there when he’s asleep, but I’d have to hire someone to sit with him at night if he’s awake then. I don’t know how we’d pay for it, but my friends and I can’t stay up at those hours. If he is waking up at night, it must be really late because I stayed at his house until 2am Thursday since I had to catch a 3am train, and he was sound asleep.
Another possibility is depression – or boredom or a combination. His world is definitely becoming increasingly limited. It’s hard to know what to do if depression is the problem – I’m hesitant to add any psychotropic drugs to the mix since they tend to have a lot more adverse reactions in the elderly and his brain’s already pretty scrambled. I suppose I could take him to Dr. Honig, but it takes forever to get an appt with him. If he’s bored, then we need to find more activities for him – a challenge when you add his blindness into the mix. But what if he’s going to bed because the world is too confusing and bed is where he feels safe? In that case he might need less stimulation, not more.
It’s so difficult to figure all this out when dealing with someone who can’t communicate clearly. I almost wish I could bring him to the vet – he’s used to figuring out what’s going on in patients who can’t talk.
Monday, November 2, 2009
October 31 2009 Halloween
I brought Dad to my house today so he could hand out the Halloween candy. He looked adorable in his jester’s hat and it was warm enough for him to sit out front with the basket of candy. It went well at first, though he kept getting impatient during the intervals between children and he kept trying to give candy to passing adults.
The trouble came when he needed to use the bathroom – the bathroom in my house is up a flight of twisty wooden stairs and Dad just couldn’t manage them – he went up about three and then it became clear he couldn’t do it. All my neighbors’ houses are set up the same way, so the only solution was to walk down to the bar on the corner. All the way, Dad kept complaining about having to walk a “half-mile” and saying that he should just “piss out the window,” an activity that would cause a riot in my uptight neighborhood.
Once we got back to his house, Dad was struggling to understand where we’d been and why. “We were gone for several days?” he asked. “No, Dad, just six hours.” I told him. Realizing the difference between his perceptions and the reality of what had actually happened made Dad worry about his brain. “Am I liable to jump out the window?” he asked me. After I reassured him about that, he asked, “Am I going to walk and walk and walk and not remember where I am?” Although this scenario was more likely than his jumping out the window, I reassured him again and reminded him that he doesn’t go out alone. Even if he did venture out alone, he wouldn’t get very far, since half a block is his maximum walking distance these days. And then came the third question, one he has never asked before,“Is there a cure?” I tried to be as gentle as possible as I explained that there is no cure, but it was a heartbreaking moment.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
