Dad has moved to new digs!

Dad was moved last weekend, nearly kicking and screaming. He "didn't want to go for a ride," didn't want to go anywhere. He rebelled at every step, but my brother managed to get him over to his new digs.

Dad loves it, loves the food and has a healthy appetite now. He's walking a bit now too, and the staff, bless, have been giving him "work" to do, filing old forms that are no longer needed. They are needed now, by him. It makes him feel important and gives him a sense of responsibility. It might not seem to be a big thing to some, but it means the world to him right now, and it keeps those synapses working and finding new routes around the damage in his brain. It keeps him busy.

It's a beautiful place, a house with 4 or 5 bedrooms, caretakers and an RN on staff 24/7. It has huge bay windows all along the back of the house so the Residents can check out the expansive lake below. We'll be going up in 3 weeks and visiting Dad in his new digs and will be getting some pictures and some videos too. They are taking good care of him and doing some of the things the other place just didn't have time to do....It's sad to have seen that too. Things like cutting his hair and making sure his face gets wiped after he eats...things like changing his shirt if he spills food on himself, or trimming his toenails or fingernails. Things like making sure his glasses and magazines don't end up on the floor, crumpled up beneath the wheels of his walker.

He wasn't treated horribly there, not by any means, and I never once smelled anything bad like urine in the air or old food or whatever. He was warm, fed, and had a comfortable bed to sleep in. It's just that there were so many people there and so few staff to care for everyone-which leads to the last reason he went to the geriatric/psyche hospital in the first place. They thought he needed to have his meds changed (read more and/or adjusted) because he was very agitated and was starting to refuse to eat...plus just being plain old crotchety. They discovered that he didn't need his meds adjusted. He needed STRUCTURE. He needs individualized attention and someone to tell him what to do. Someone to help keep him focused and his mind kept active and not left to his own mental devices as it were. I think Dad is in the best place he could be right now...And I am grateful to my brother for finding him this wonderful place to live out his remaining days in a place where he is well cared for, and cared about.



More very soon!

Dad will move soon

I called my brother today to find out how Dad is doing. I call where he is currently at, and they tell me I can't have any information over the phone. I have asked repeatedly for my brother to make sure that it's in Dad's chart that I can have this information. I'm his daughter, for crying out loud! When I tell them I'm not local, they just give me the same crap-"Sorry, we can't give out any info over the phone." What a load! I gotta get that worked out...Or perhaps not.

Sigh.

The person they were waiting for (at the new place) to pass on, has done so, and so Dad will be moved later on this week. Brother said he's not averse to it, and told him he'd be able to see the lake, the mountains, and that it was a smaller place and had a nice back yard too.

It's really sad...that he had to wait for someone to die before he could get into this new home-His final home. No more moving around from place to place. I feel sad for the other Family and their loss. I pray that they can remember the good and the positive in their hearts, and that they can move on, in love.

I hope they can give Dad the attention he needs at this new place, and that they are genuinely caring and full of love for their residents...I hope that when he drops his glasses that someone will pick them up and place them lovingly on his face. I hope that when he drops his National Geographic, that someone will pick it up right away and not let it get all crumpled under his wheels. I hope they give him time in the backyard so he can be out in the air, and get the sun on his face. Those things will calm him. I hope they make sure that he eats, and that they give him chocolate chip cookies from time to time. Those are his favorites. You know I'll be bringing a few dozen next time we come up there.

It seems like such a long time before we can go up there again...I sure hope it goes fast.

Hugs Dad...I Love you!!

Little bits

We recently went to Seattle to visit Dad. He was being evaluated at a nearby geriatric/psych hospital with a very good reputation. He needed to be evaluated for a possible medication adjustment/change, and his residence medical staff knew it was not in their purview to attempt this. He was there because he had been very agitated and non-compliant. We have changed the focus from him being kept busy and active to one of him being comfortable. He is pretty much non-ambulatory. We are waiting for a space to open up in a new Alzheimer's' group home where he can have the structure he needs, and so he can be in a wheelchair instead of a walker. He falls often when he only has his walker.

Dad is doing as well as can be expected. We caught up with him at the geriatric/psych ward-I was pleasantly surprised! It was a clean, bright cheerful place. The nurses were friendly and very helpful. Dad was doing pretty well there; He was actually eating 80 to 100% of his meals, and he even said he liked the food. The sad thing is that he thought I was a policeman (I had a blue jacket on with a white patch right where the badge would have been) and that I had come to get him out of there. He wanted to leave and kept asking me if I had enough money. To get him away or just to have, like he used to do when I was young? I don't know. He kept saying, "lets go!" He never said my name once, so I'm not sure...I doubt that he knew who I was. He was much better after they discovered all he needed was a lot of structure. He's much better when he's told what to do.

The next day, he was being moved back to his usual residence. We went over to see him and he was not in a wheelchair (which I was not real pleasantly surprised to see because he falls a lot) but was sitting with his walker in front of him, his glasses and National Geographic on the floor and under his wheels. I picked up his things and gave him his glasses back, and gave him 2 dozen home made chocolate chip cookies, his favorite thing. We all visited awhile and I know that he was seeing things, and reaching for things that weren't there, and didn't answer one of my questions correctly, not once. He would reach out for something and my hand would be there at the extent of his reach, and I would just hold his hand. He would look confused, like the thing he was seeing wasn't my hand. But when I looked him in the eye and said, "Dad, I love you," he looked me back right square in the eye and said "I love you too, Mary."

What more needs to be said?

What goes here

This is a place where I put my pain. My frustration and my tears. A place where I look back on the memories of my Dad. Remembrances, full of stories and lots of info! Joy or laughter or whatever may be-It all goes here in this place.

I hope you will put yours here too!!!! You are so welcome!!

How it all started

My Dad is still in Western WA. I live for the time in Southern California, and I see him every two months for about a week each time; The changes I see are more evident than someone who sees him every day. I have plans to move back to WA but that isn't possible yet so I must make the best use of the time when I am up there. It really hurts not to be there every day though.

My Father came to this place because a few years ago, he had a heart attack and didn't tell my brother (who was still living at home) that he was in terrible pain, and had been for a few days. My brother heard him being ill and asked him what was going on and made dad spill the beans about how he was feeling. Dad's from the old school, where you don't talk about or "complain" about what ails you; that's why he didn't tell my brother. He had my Dad in the hospital faster than you can blink.

After he was evaluated, it was found he has had a major heart attack, and had 95% blockage on 3 arteries and 75 on the other. He needed a quad bypass right away. They put him into a hospital in Seattle with a very good track record where he had some preliminary tests and an angiogram which confirmed our fears. He was scheduled for surgery. We kissed him goodbye and waited.

7 1/2 hours later they told us he had come through it okay. I thought I was prepared for seeing him. My brother and I walked into ICU to see him. I took one look at him and burst into tears and left the room. I collected myself and went back in. He looked so small and diminished; the incision area still colored with betadine. He looked very pale and very wan. He was still on full assist too. I went right up to him and I told him I loved him, and that his vitals were good and for him to rest and get his strength back. I told him I loved him and that we'd be back.

I saw him the next day and he was semi-conscious, drifting in and out but looking very strange. His eyes were very glassed over and he was mumbling and making no sense. I figured this was due to the operation (a quad bypass with arterial reconstruction) and tried not to be too concerned about it. Who wouldn't be like this after being under a general anesthesia for 7 1/2 hours? AND being on a heart-lung machine?

The third day I saw him he was up, walking around, completely agitated saying, he was "going to walk home come hell or high water." He was walking around in his gown, his legs bleeding and oozing from having the arteries grafted from there, pushing around his IV pole. He was walking in circles around the ward, swearing. When we were finally able to get him into bed, he was combative and non-compliant. He took a swing at a nurse and an orderly. We had no choice but to sedate him and have him put in restraints.

This was NOT my Father! When he went into hospital, he was nothing like this man. He was a very gentle soul who would NEVER take a swing at anyone or even hurt a fly! This was not in his nature. Where did my Dad go?

There is an affliction that people who have been on heart-lung bypass can get sometimes. It's been kept pretty hush-hush for a number of years and one can see why. The affliction is called "pump head." I really don't like this term. I found 2 articles on it:
"Pump head" article 1
"Pump Head" Article 2

I think that he had a series of mini-strokes...Or possibly the trauma of the operation was enough to bring Alzheimer's on early onset.

In any case, my Dad is leaving slowly, dying a little bit every day. I'm grateful that he still remembers me a little bit.

It just breaks my heart to bits.