Sunday April 25, 2010
110 days Since Accident
87 Days in Colorado
The family went bowling today to celebrate Jessica and Alicia's (belated) birthdays. I must have ran back into the house three times before we finally left for the Alley. First, I forgot dad's medicine, then I forgot to take my Flip recorder, and then I ran in a third time to grab the bottle of water and hard candy I left on the kitchen counter for dad. I really hate the fact that my memory is not as sharp as it used to be. Is this what 50 really looks like?
Finally settled in the car, we take off 30 minutes later than we originally planned. If we don't get to the Alley by 1:00pm we stand the chance of having to wait. Alicia has to be home by 4:00pm and we wanted to have a leisurely (not rushed) afternoon. Lately, it seems no matter how hard I try my time management skills seem to be in dire need of a tune-up! Today was certainly no exception. We were already ten miles south on the Interstate when I realized that I forgot to pick up the birthday cakes for the girls! I ordered one white cake with white frosting and another chocolate cake with chocolate frosting each with a girl's name on it. Oh, I feel just awful and I am sure I will feel even more awful when the bakery charges me for the cakes! You might wonder, why I don't make a to do list. Well, I actually do maintain a daily list of things to do, but I forgot it too!
We arrive at 1:35pm and we were informed that up until 20 minutes earlier there was no waiting. Frustrating! Larry, always the best at getting our time schedule back on track, suggests that we order a pizza,while we wait. Sounds like a good plan because I also didn't have an opportunity to eat anything and I was starving. As soon as we settled at a table with our large cheese pizza and pitcher of cola, no, sooner than our name is called for an available lane. Now we have to grab the tray of pizza, beverages, and plates, while at the same time manage to carry my bowling ball/shoes, Larry's gear, and hold onto dad. Larry takes the pizza and dad and goes down to our designated lane, while I take the kids for bowling shoes and to pay for the session. I had a coupon that saved us over $40.00 - just happened to find it in my glove compartment in the car and I have no clue when I put it in there, but was glad I did!
We were on a timer (two hours) and we had five minutes to find balls, load our names onto the computer, and get our shoes on. Geez, the other Alley we frequent had a much better system in place, when your party was ready to bowl you push the enter button and start, none of this five minute nonsense! Who can get ready that quickly when you have five people bowling? It took a couple of minutes just to get all the names into the computer!
Larry and I share the game, I have back problems and really have no business even bowling anymore, and Larry damaged his right thumb and he really should not have bowled either. We figured this was a good compromise, and it actually worked very well I was able to bowl with no back pain,(it helps having a custom-made 6 pound ball). Ok first up is Larry, he bowls very well, next is Joey, he has quite a wicked curve in front of a very powerful ball 16.2 MPH! Larry's best was 13+, Jessica 11, Alicia 9, and me between 8-12 mph. Dad is watching and enjoying a slice of pizza (don't ask me how he can do so well with two teeth in his mouth, yes, he is still refusing to wear the dentures).
We finish our first game and dad decides he wants to bowl. Jessica graciously gives up her turn so grandpa could bowl. She figured he couldn't do any worse than she was doing anyway (mostly gutter-balls with the occasional 2-4 pin hit). Larry finds a ball for dad and stands-by just in case dad has any trouble. The area around us goes quiet as people look over and notice my elderly father, who by the way is wearing a hard cervical collar, take tiny steps up to the lane and fling the ball. I pull from my purse the Flip recorder and tape the entire event. I figured he would get a gutter ball, but I am watching this ball, slowly but surely, slide down the middle, and like dominos, each pin, in succession falls down - STRIKE!
Dad jumps up and places his hands over his cheeks with utter shock and joy - the area begins to clap, and I proudly announce that dad,almost 90 years old, had never bowled before, and got a strike! Jessica's turn comes up again and she tells grandpa to go ahead and bowl on his strike. Once again, Larry helps dad to carry the ball to about 3 feet from the lane. Dad takes his little running steps and kind of drops/throws the ball. It slowly travels down the lane and with fairly good accuracy, dad knocks down 9 pins! The area goes wild - dad is ecstatic - I think to myself, that I have to get him in a senior league.
Before we leave, I ask at the front desk about a senior group, and to my surprise they have a (senior) league forming May 25. The cost is $10.00 per week, which includes coffee, dessert, and a free bowling ball with custom drilling! Not a bad deal at all. I am thrilled because I have been at my wits end trying to find a couple of activities for dad to enjoy and now I found one that will serve an additional purpose of increased activity (for him) as well. For a total of $30.00 we ended up bowling three games x four people (remember Larry and I shared the game), shoe rental, and a pitcher of soda. Now that is what I call a bargain!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Taking Care of Dad - The Daughter Takes a Stand
Saturday April 24, 2010
109 days since accident
86 days in Colorado
Dad woke up in a cranky mood – he claims his heart is beating fast again, a little frustrated, I reminded him that he is having palpitations something the doctor told him he will get from time-to-time because of nerves (anxiety), but I was going to call an ambulance anyway to take him to the hospital. He looks at me and says, “I didn’t say I want to go to the hospital, what are you getting so upset for?” Before I could say anything Larry chimes in and says, “Nate, at your age you are going to have aches and pains, if we call an ambulance or take you to the emergency room every time you have some discomfort you are just going to spend hours being uncomfortable. You will be sent home with a bill (patient portion) from both the ambulance company and the emergency room. We should really save those times for when you really need to go to the hospital.
As a reader, you may think Larry and I are being insensitive to dad’s medical needs, but it is actually just the opposite. As a nurse I would call the ambulance in a heartbeat (no pun intended), but remember, I blogged about this last night, dad is a hypochondriac, for a man who keeps saying he wants to die; yet each time something hurts or he feels weak he panics and wants an ambulance. I have been in this situation with him more times than I can to admit.
Flashback Memory:
When my first child, Rachel was born back in 1987 dad started coming to visit once a year. When Rachel was five years old, we moved into a larger house. The guest rooms were in the (finished) basement. Dad had a beautiful large room, color television, his own bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub, and privacy. Anyway, before dad came out that year, I told him I was graduating from nursing school, so he could have an excuse not to come.
Side Note > Why do I say that? Because my dad never does well when he has to take the back seat, the visits had to be all about him – He didn’t do well at gatherings, he was very antisocial. It is sad, but oh so true. When I was a child, around seven or eight, I remember my parents going out on Saturday nights. They had a circle of friends from the old country, but after my mother died, the friends disappeared. Mom was the only reason they had so many friends, dad they merely tolerated.
Flash Forward Nursing School Graduation:
Nursing school was a tough gig for me. I didn’t have the greatest self-esteem and was sure that I would flunk out of school. Dad said I was not smart enough for medical school; I probably was not smart enough for nursing school either. Nevertheless, here I was, GRADUATION DAY! I made it – today I became someone special. Nothing was going to spoil this special day for me. Not even dad. Ok, well he was very capable of spoiling my day, he did it all the time, and each time I would say this is the last time.
I prayed the night before that dad would wake up in a good mood. He was cranky the day before, I was busy cleaning the house and preparing for the party, I didn’t spend much time with him. But he played with Rachel, took her to the park, I figured I didn’t need too. I was wrong – something was bugging him – I asked him what was wrong, and he said nothing. When he said nothing, it meant you better figure out what it is.
I woke up to a beautiful, slightly cool, and sunny day – perfect for an outdoor graduation! Dad was in a vile mood that day, I was so nervous that he was going to embarrass me at my graduation or the party, which was to follow later that day. No one really knew how to react to those mood swings of his. One minute he was fine, the next he was like a completely different person. If you tried to talk to him, he would snap and if you ignored him, he would snap. I knew at some point, that day a fight would happen. Right after the ceremony when the graduates were meeting up with families for picture taking, laughing, and congratulatory hugs my father decides to cop an attitude. I could tell he was stewing. Evidently, he was angry because I didn’t take any pictures with him. My friends all ran up to me to take pictures together, I figured we would take family pictures later, after all the pomp and circumstance. He didn’t get it.
So that meant I was going to pay for it – wait for it, wait for it…here it comes: My husband walked over to dad and said with a huge grin, “Nate aren’t you proud of Linda, I am so proud of her, look what she has accomplished!” My father looked at him and dropped the bomb, “Of course you are proud, you are just a truck driver!” There it was, the grin on my husband’s face turned into a frown, and I should have left it alone, but had to defend my husband – I immediately turned to my father and said, “Don’t you dare speak to my husband that way, you apologize to him right this minute! If it were not for him and his dedication to this family I would not have been able to attend nursing school!”
Well I just made it worse because now my father was going to be angry with me for sticking up for my husband. Dad just turned and walked away. Oh, I should cancel my graduation party – he is going to make me miserable – I just know it! That night about thirty people showed up to, help us celebrate my graduation. About ten minutes before the guests started to arrive my father announces that he is getting sick and has a fever. There it is, this is how it will begin – he is pulling out the “I am sick card,” which means you better drop what you are doing and take care of me.
I ran upstairs to get a thermometer and some Tylenol – his temperature was completely normal. His skin was cool to the touch and he looked fine. He had a little bit of a scratchy throat, but he gets that every time he comes to Colorado – he is not used to the dry air. I set up a humidifier in his room and brought him down a pitcher of water and some hard candies to help moisten his throat. My father refused to come up during the party, my husband brought him down some food, which he refused, we tried several times to coax him up stairs, each time he said he just wanted to be left alone. So we left him alone.
The next day my father had a fit! He began yelling at me, “What kind of daughter are you to leave your sick father downstairs in the basement like a dog, with no food, no medicine, nothing, while you are upstairs having a big party!” Well there you have it – his next victim was going to be me – I was going to be the daughter in the spotlight for the next six months – everyone would be told what a lousy daughter I am – he would ride that story and throw it in my face for years to come.
Flash Back About Two Weeks Ago:
Two weeks ago dad drank 12 oz of vodka and was so intoxicated that he didn’t understand English! He slurred his speech and I was afraid he was going to die that night. Well not on my watch – I was going to do whatever I needed to metabolize the alcohol – we walked, we drank coffee, we ate small bites of food, we talked, and he fought me the entire time to let him sleep. An hour later, he was becoming more lucid and was no longer slurring his speech. I was not happy, not one bit - My teenage children had to witness their 89-year-old grandfather falling over drunk! Once he sobered up, I let him (verbally) have it. What was he thinking? What kind of legacy did he want to leave for future generations of our family? What kind of role model was he to his grandchildren? Yada-yada-yada!
Dad had fire in his eyes – he was red faced angry! “Don’t you talk to me that way, I am your father and you will show me respect,” he said. “Respect? You get respect when you also give respect – you have no respect for me or this family!” I replied. For two days he would not speak to anyone, all he did was lie in his bed, come to the table for meals, and then return to his room immediately after he finished eating. Finally I could not take it anymore and told him things were not working out, he was obviously not happy living with us, and we were going to look into nursing home placement. At 50 years of age, I was finally going to take a stand – he was not going to ruin this family – make my kids nervous, and instigate fights between Larry and I.
I let out all the stops – No bullying, no sulking, no dirty looks, no abuse, what-so-ever was going to be tolerated in this home. All we have done over the last 86 days is bend over backwards to make him comfortable, include him in all of our family activities, and try to make him happy. And so, it began, I told him how I felt - “You don’t want to eat, don’t eat, you want to lie in bed all day, lay in bed, I don’t care anymore!” “We do not deserve this, I was the only one who came forward to help you and I have been doing my best to do just that, but you don’t appreciate it and I am done – I am especially tired of you accusing me, Larry, or the children of lying when we say something that you don’t want to hear.
Inner Conflict:
I went to bed that night feeling awful, like I failed. All I wanted to do was help my father, and all I ended up doing is making him angry with me. This is not how I pictured things to be. Maybe my sister was right, I should have just found a nursing home in Brooklyn – “No, I shook my head, he would have been alone with no one to visit him, take him out for dinner, and he would die a lonely and dejected man.” If he had to go into a nursing home, here would be better – I would visit and take him out frequently. Still, I felt like I failed – I wanted this to be perfect, I wanted my children to have a grandfather. However, if I back down then my father will win – the manipulation and abuse will get worse, because he will have control.
The next morning I awoke feeling like my body was used as a punching bag – I ached all over (I have fibromyalgia and stress is a trigger). I didn’t want to go downstairs and face my father. What would I say, worse, what would he say? As I walked down the stairs from my bedroom I overheard Larry and dad talking – it sounded civil, I stopped and tried to make out what was being said – Was I hearing it correctly? Dad was apologizing! “I know you have been good to me, and my daughter has been so good to me and she loves me. I am an old man and I get cranky sometimes, I don’t mean to give you any trouble, I am sorry and I promise not to give you anymore problems.”
I want to give him credit for coming forward as it had to be difficult for him to admit he was wrong, but the cynic in me only believes that he did this as a means of self-preservation. He knows he has a good thing here and doesn’t want to go to a nursing home. The pay-off for him was far greater than the sell-out.
I want to know who kidnapped my father and put this pod-person in his place.
Closing Comments:
As for the Spring Festival – it was wonderful! I have been looking forward to the showcase of student talent. Dad had a huge grin on his face the entire time – even after each run to the bathroom because he had the r-u-n-s! We were out until 9:30pm as soon as we got home my dad took off his clothes to expose his pajamas and he was in bed within 30 seconds flat! Good night to you too dad!
109 days since accident
86 days in Colorado
Dad woke up in a cranky mood – he claims his heart is beating fast again, a little frustrated, I reminded him that he is having palpitations something the doctor told him he will get from time-to-time because of nerves (anxiety), but I was going to call an ambulance anyway to take him to the hospital. He looks at me and says, “I didn’t say I want to go to the hospital, what are you getting so upset for?” Before I could say anything Larry chimes in and says, “Nate, at your age you are going to have aches and pains, if we call an ambulance or take you to the emergency room every time you have some discomfort you are just going to spend hours being uncomfortable. You will be sent home with a bill (patient portion) from both the ambulance company and the emergency room. We should really save those times for when you really need to go to the hospital.
As a reader, you may think Larry and I are being insensitive to dad’s medical needs, but it is actually just the opposite. As a nurse I would call the ambulance in a heartbeat (no pun intended), but remember, I blogged about this last night, dad is a hypochondriac, for a man who keeps saying he wants to die; yet each time something hurts or he feels weak he panics and wants an ambulance. I have been in this situation with him more times than I can to admit.
Flashback Memory:
When my first child, Rachel was born back in 1987 dad started coming to visit once a year. When Rachel was five years old, we moved into a larger house. The guest rooms were in the (finished) basement. Dad had a beautiful large room, color television, his own bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub, and privacy. Anyway, before dad came out that year, I told him I was graduating from nursing school, so he could have an excuse not to come.
Side Note > Why do I say that? Because my dad never does well when he has to take the back seat, the visits had to be all about him – He didn’t do well at gatherings, he was very antisocial. It is sad, but oh so true. When I was a child, around seven or eight, I remember my parents going out on Saturday nights. They had a circle of friends from the old country, but after my mother died, the friends disappeared. Mom was the only reason they had so many friends, dad they merely tolerated.
Flash Forward Nursing School Graduation:
Nursing school was a tough gig for me. I didn’t have the greatest self-esteem and was sure that I would flunk out of school. Dad said I was not smart enough for medical school; I probably was not smart enough for nursing school either. Nevertheless, here I was, GRADUATION DAY! I made it – today I became someone special. Nothing was going to spoil this special day for me. Not even dad. Ok, well he was very capable of spoiling my day, he did it all the time, and each time I would say this is the last time.
I prayed the night before that dad would wake up in a good mood. He was cranky the day before, I was busy cleaning the house and preparing for the party, I didn’t spend much time with him. But he played with Rachel, took her to the park, I figured I didn’t need too. I was wrong – something was bugging him – I asked him what was wrong, and he said nothing. When he said nothing, it meant you better figure out what it is.
I woke up to a beautiful, slightly cool, and sunny day – perfect for an outdoor graduation! Dad was in a vile mood that day, I was so nervous that he was going to embarrass me at my graduation or the party, which was to follow later that day. No one really knew how to react to those mood swings of his. One minute he was fine, the next he was like a completely different person. If you tried to talk to him, he would snap and if you ignored him, he would snap. I knew at some point, that day a fight would happen. Right after the ceremony when the graduates were meeting up with families for picture taking, laughing, and congratulatory hugs my father decides to cop an attitude. I could tell he was stewing. Evidently, he was angry because I didn’t take any pictures with him. My friends all ran up to me to take pictures together, I figured we would take family pictures later, after all the pomp and circumstance. He didn’t get it.
So that meant I was going to pay for it – wait for it, wait for it…here it comes: My husband walked over to dad and said with a huge grin, “Nate aren’t you proud of Linda, I am so proud of her, look what she has accomplished!” My father looked at him and dropped the bomb, “Of course you are proud, you are just a truck driver!” There it was, the grin on my husband’s face turned into a frown, and I should have left it alone, but had to defend my husband – I immediately turned to my father and said, “Don’t you dare speak to my husband that way, you apologize to him right this minute! If it were not for him and his dedication to this family I would not have been able to attend nursing school!”
Well I just made it worse because now my father was going to be angry with me for sticking up for my husband. Dad just turned and walked away. Oh, I should cancel my graduation party – he is going to make me miserable – I just know it! That night about thirty people showed up to, help us celebrate my graduation. About ten minutes before the guests started to arrive my father announces that he is getting sick and has a fever. There it is, this is how it will begin – he is pulling out the “I am sick card,” which means you better drop what you are doing and take care of me.
I ran upstairs to get a thermometer and some Tylenol – his temperature was completely normal. His skin was cool to the touch and he looked fine. He had a little bit of a scratchy throat, but he gets that every time he comes to Colorado – he is not used to the dry air. I set up a humidifier in his room and brought him down a pitcher of water and some hard candies to help moisten his throat. My father refused to come up during the party, my husband brought him down some food, which he refused, we tried several times to coax him up stairs, each time he said he just wanted to be left alone. So we left him alone.
The next day my father had a fit! He began yelling at me, “What kind of daughter are you to leave your sick father downstairs in the basement like a dog, with no food, no medicine, nothing, while you are upstairs having a big party!” Well there you have it – his next victim was going to be me – I was going to be the daughter in the spotlight for the next six months – everyone would be told what a lousy daughter I am – he would ride that story and throw it in my face for years to come.
Flash Back About Two Weeks Ago:
Two weeks ago dad drank 12 oz of vodka and was so intoxicated that he didn’t understand English! He slurred his speech and I was afraid he was going to die that night. Well not on my watch – I was going to do whatever I needed to metabolize the alcohol – we walked, we drank coffee, we ate small bites of food, we talked, and he fought me the entire time to let him sleep. An hour later, he was becoming more lucid and was no longer slurring his speech. I was not happy, not one bit - My teenage children had to witness their 89-year-old grandfather falling over drunk! Once he sobered up, I let him (verbally) have it. What was he thinking? What kind of legacy did he want to leave for future generations of our family? What kind of role model was he to his grandchildren? Yada-yada-yada!
Dad had fire in his eyes – he was red faced angry! “Don’t you talk to me that way, I am your father and you will show me respect,” he said. “Respect? You get respect when you also give respect – you have no respect for me or this family!” I replied. For two days he would not speak to anyone, all he did was lie in his bed, come to the table for meals, and then return to his room immediately after he finished eating. Finally I could not take it anymore and told him things were not working out, he was obviously not happy living with us, and we were going to look into nursing home placement. At 50 years of age, I was finally going to take a stand – he was not going to ruin this family – make my kids nervous, and instigate fights between Larry and I.
I let out all the stops – No bullying, no sulking, no dirty looks, no abuse, what-so-ever was going to be tolerated in this home. All we have done over the last 86 days is bend over backwards to make him comfortable, include him in all of our family activities, and try to make him happy. And so, it began, I told him how I felt - “You don’t want to eat, don’t eat, you want to lie in bed all day, lay in bed, I don’t care anymore!” “We do not deserve this, I was the only one who came forward to help you and I have been doing my best to do just that, but you don’t appreciate it and I am done – I am especially tired of you accusing me, Larry, or the children of lying when we say something that you don’t want to hear.
Inner Conflict:
I went to bed that night feeling awful, like I failed. All I wanted to do was help my father, and all I ended up doing is making him angry with me. This is not how I pictured things to be. Maybe my sister was right, I should have just found a nursing home in Brooklyn – “No, I shook my head, he would have been alone with no one to visit him, take him out for dinner, and he would die a lonely and dejected man.” If he had to go into a nursing home, here would be better – I would visit and take him out frequently. Still, I felt like I failed – I wanted this to be perfect, I wanted my children to have a grandfather. However, if I back down then my father will win – the manipulation and abuse will get worse, because he will have control.
The next morning I awoke feeling like my body was used as a punching bag – I ached all over (I have fibromyalgia and stress is a trigger). I didn’t want to go downstairs and face my father. What would I say, worse, what would he say? As I walked down the stairs from my bedroom I overheard Larry and dad talking – it sounded civil, I stopped and tried to make out what was being said – Was I hearing it correctly? Dad was apologizing! “I know you have been good to me, and my daughter has been so good to me and she loves me. I am an old man and I get cranky sometimes, I don’t mean to give you any trouble, I am sorry and I promise not to give you anymore problems.”
I want to give him credit for coming forward as it had to be difficult for him to admit he was wrong, but the cynic in me only believes that he did this as a means of self-preservation. He knows he has a good thing here and doesn’t want to go to a nursing home. The pay-off for him was far greater than the sell-out.
I want to know who kidnapped my father and put this pod-person in his place.
Closing Comments:
As for the Spring Festival – it was wonderful! I have been looking forward to the showcase of student talent. Dad had a huge grin on his face the entire time – even after each run to the bathroom because he had the r-u-n-s! We were out until 9:30pm as soon as we got home my dad took off his clothes to expose his pajamas and he was in bed within 30 seconds flat! Good night to you too dad!
Friday, April 23, 2010
Dad's Second Day in Colorado - January 30, 2010
January 30, 2010
25 days after the accident
Second day in Colorado
I am scared - plain and simple. My father looks so weak, so frail, even his once powerful voice is barely audible. Did I make a mistake bringing him out here to live with me? Am I crazy? What possessed me to bring him out here so soon? Maybe I should have insisted that dad stay in the nursing home for a few more weeks. Would he have survived there, though? I have so many questions - and no good answers. All I know is that I made the commitment and now I must follow through. What am I so afraid of? I have taken care of the elderly and sick people before. I was a very good medical/surgical nurse so this should be a piece of cake. But this is no ordinary patient in one of the several hospitals that I work in - this is my 89-year-old father, who was hit by a car, and seriously injured just a little over three weeks ago.
I just have to find my center - this is new, the entire family feels disjointed. If I could get dad in a routine, I think it would help all of us adjust. Right now all dad wants to do is sleep. I can't let him do that. Too much bed rest could lead to a pneumonia or clots in his legs. He did enough laying around in the nursing home. Now he needs to start rebuilding his strength.
I have already started a little bit of a routine with him. He tends to wake up about 8:00ish and wants breakfast at 8:30am. After breakfast, I help him to the recliner that Larry moved by the big window. Here he can get some sun, watch the people go by, or read the paper. This works for about 45 minutes though and then he gets antsy. Unfortunately, that takes me to about 9:45am. If I don't distract him with something then he immediately will crawl back into bed and lay there all day long.
So I move him from the chair to the kitchen table and pull out a deck of cards. My father used to play cards all the time when I was a kid he would go the Brighton beach every weekend and play cards with his friends in the park or under the Boardwalk. Playing cards is good for him as it helps to exercise his brain. We play for about 45 minutes, which takes me to 10:30am.
He goes back to bed and I let him take a nap until lunch (about 12:30). After lunch if the weather permits, we go out and run a couple of errands or go to a doctor's appointment and then pick up the kids on the way home.
Then I give him a cup of tea and a couple of cookies while he visits with the kids. I notice that dad really perks up when the kids are home from school. Sometimes they play cards with him, other times they talk about the school day.
We eat dinner at 5:30pm, which usually goes for about an hour sometimes two hours. This is our time to unwind from the day, talk and discuss current events or issues that the kids have on their minds. My father enjoys the banter. After dinner, my husband Larry helps dad to bathe and get ready for bed. I utilize that time to straighten up dad's room and bed.
7:30pm dad is comfortable in bed, I will put a movie on for him - he loves the TCM channel. About an hour into the movie, I find him fast asleep. I turn off the T.V. and check on him before I retire to my bedroom upstairs.
For the last couple of nights I have been waking up like every couple of hours - I check on dad and then go back to sleep. I hope this doesn't become habitual because I really am going to need my sleep if I am going to pull this caretaker role off.
25 days after the accident
Second day in Colorado
I am scared - plain and simple. My father looks so weak, so frail, even his once powerful voice is barely audible. Did I make a mistake bringing him out here to live with me? Am I crazy? What possessed me to bring him out here so soon? Maybe I should have insisted that dad stay in the nursing home for a few more weeks. Would he have survived there, though? I have so many questions - and no good answers. All I know is that I made the commitment and now I must follow through. What am I so afraid of? I have taken care of the elderly and sick people before. I was a very good medical/surgical nurse so this should be a piece of cake. But this is no ordinary patient in one of the several hospitals that I work in - this is my 89-year-old father, who was hit by a car, and seriously injured just a little over three weeks ago.
I just have to find my center - this is new, the entire family feels disjointed. If I could get dad in a routine, I think it would help all of us adjust. Right now all dad wants to do is sleep. I can't let him do that. Too much bed rest could lead to a pneumonia or clots in his legs. He did enough laying around in the nursing home. Now he needs to start rebuilding his strength.
I have already started a little bit of a routine with him. He tends to wake up about 8:00ish and wants breakfast at 8:30am. After breakfast, I help him to the recliner that Larry moved by the big window. Here he can get some sun, watch the people go by, or read the paper. This works for about 45 minutes though and then he gets antsy. Unfortunately, that takes me to about 9:45am. If I don't distract him with something then he immediately will crawl back into bed and lay there all day long.
So I move him from the chair to the kitchen table and pull out a deck of cards. My father used to play cards all the time when I was a kid he would go the Brighton beach every weekend and play cards with his friends in the park or under the Boardwalk. Playing cards is good for him as it helps to exercise his brain. We play for about 45 minutes, which takes me to 10:30am.
He goes back to bed and I let him take a nap until lunch (about 12:30). After lunch if the weather permits, we go out and run a couple of errands or go to a doctor's appointment and then pick up the kids on the way home.
Then I give him a cup of tea and a couple of cookies while he visits with the kids. I notice that dad really perks up when the kids are home from school. Sometimes they play cards with him, other times they talk about the school day.
We eat dinner at 5:30pm, which usually goes for about an hour sometimes two hours. This is our time to unwind from the day, talk and discuss current events or issues that the kids have on their minds. My father enjoys the banter. After dinner, my husband Larry helps dad to bathe and get ready for bed. I utilize that time to straighten up dad's room and bed.
7:30pm dad is comfortable in bed, I will put a movie on for him - he loves the TCM channel. About an hour into the movie, I find him fast asleep. I turn off the T.V. and check on him before I retire to my bedroom upstairs.
For the last couple of nights I have been waking up like every couple of hours - I check on dad and then go back to sleep. I hope this doesn't become habitual because I really am going to need my sleep if I am going to pull this caretaker role off.
Taking Care of Dad - To go, or not to go (to the hospital)
Friday April 23, 2010
108 days since accident,
85 days since dad moved to Colorado
It was a very cold and wet day in Northern Colorado; actually it has been raining heavily now for the last three days. Ah, we need the moisture − but for people who suffer from arthritic-like conditions, like my dad and me, this kind of weather, we could do without. Therefore, while I was taking more of my medication to deal with my symptoms dad was contemplating vodka to ease his. He actually has been much better about not demanding his "medicine." I think he realized that he better walk a straight line (no pun intended) with me after the incident two weeks ago when he abused his alcohol privileges*.
Dad is a hypochondriac, for as long as I can remember, he complained about one thing or another. However, if dad were distracted with liquor or a deck of cards, his symptoms would miraculously disappear. Therefore, you have to understand, even at the age of 89, when dad complains it usually is related to boredom or anxiety. That being said, today for the first time in 2 ½ months, dad started complaining of chest discomfort. The nurse in me had my cell phone in hand ready to dial 911, but the daughter in me, knowing dad’s history for the dramatic, held off making the call.
Flashback Moment:
As a young adult going to college out-of-state I felt an obligation to call my father once a week, to sort of check in, I guess. Those conversations were never pleasant, dad would usually say something to upset me and I would hang up feeling terrible. During many of those brief chats dad would casually, either mention that he had suffered chest pain and the ambulance came or he took himself to the doctor. Dad was notorious for being in the hospital over the holidays too – The guilt trips were awful – “if you only hadn’t moved to California (I went to college) or to Colorado (where I ended up after college), I wouldn’t be alone and so sick,” he would say.
He hated being alone, but every time one of his daughters would invite him for a visit he would end up causing problems. That daughter would be the topic of gossip for months and then another daughter would do something to trigger his angst and she would become the topic of gossip. I can recall plenty of Thanksgiving holidays when he would come to Colorado and leave the family in ruins. He always knew how and what buttons to push to cause trouble and then would sit back and judge everyone.
Flash Forward - Present Day:
Back to dad’s current complaint − Remember the story of the boy who cried wolf? I didn’t want this particular episode to be a wolf moment. So I retrieved my nurse-bag and checked dad out just to be on the safe side - his blood pressure, was a little elevated at 140/90, but within his normal range. His pulse was 74 and his heart rate was strong. When I asked him to describe the pain, he said it felt like an ache and he pointed to the center of his chest. The pain was mild (a 2 on a scale of 1-10), and it was localized, which meant it didn't move down his arm or up his neck, etc. I think to myself for a minute that dad suffers from occasional digestive upset – it could be the orange juice (OJ) I gave him this morning. I meant to buy low acid juice and forgot – I know that regular OJ does not agree with me and I get terrible heartburn.
Dad startled me out of my deep thought when he asked me, “Am I going to die?" I looked up at him and said, "Eventually dad, but I don't think it will be today." He began to cry, “Dad I was only kidding with you,” I said, while he motioned for me to bend closer to his face. As I moved closer to him he blurred out, "You are not going to let me down?"
I didn’t quite understand the question. “What do you mean let you down? Do you mean, send you to a nursing home?” I asked. He nodded “yes.” He is so afraid that he is a burden, and that we will get tired of the stress and responsibility, and decide to put him in a nursing home. He hugged me tightly and stroked my hair, crying, he said, "You are the only one who cared about me, you take such good care of me, and I love you very much."
He calmed down and then said to me, I kept calling for you I thought you were not at home. I pointed to his cell phone and asked why he didn’t call me. I explained that I was in the shower, had he called me I would have noticed the missed call. "I don't know how to use this fancy phone," he says in frustration. What to do, I thought. Then I remembered that I had bought two small dry eraser boards. I have one in his bedroom that I use as a daily reminder for the day of the week and the date. I figured the second one would come in handy to write the directions for placing a cell phone call. I had dad practice with me about 4-5 times, first he would place a call to me and then I would call him. The first time he spoke into the phone but forgot to open it. The second time he dialed the number correctly but forgot to press the send key. After another 2-3 attempts, he was successful.
After lunch dad felt better. His blood pressure came down as well, 130/82 and the chest discomfort went away. I think that laying flat is also problematic for him, especially if the problem is acid indigestion. So, I brought him another pillow and demonstrated how he should use them. I put on a movie for him and reminded him to call me if he needed anything. I went upstairs to my office to do some work. I checked on him an hour later and he was sleeping comfortably.
Closing Comments:
The question of when to call an ambulance or take a loved one to the hospital can be difficult to assess. As a nurse, I feel confident in my decision to forego calling an ambulance. It was an easy decision only because I know my father, his medical history, and the pain he complains of has been an on-going battle for a number of years. Nevertheless, would I suggest that you or anyone else reading this Blog withhold medical intervention? The answer is most definitely no - it is always best to err on the side of caution. If at any time you think a loved one might be having a heart attack or stroke for example, don’t even bother driving to the hospital, instead call 911 immediately and follow the directions of the 911 operator – you might just save a life in the process.
*(medicine = vodka)when he decided to drink himself into a drunken stupor (12 oz of straight vodka)and I told him I was looking into nursing home placement because I took on more than I could handle with him.
108 days since accident,
85 days since dad moved to Colorado
It was a very cold and wet day in Northern Colorado; actually it has been raining heavily now for the last three days. Ah, we need the moisture − but for people who suffer from arthritic-like conditions, like my dad and me, this kind of weather, we could do without. Therefore, while I was taking more of my medication to deal with my symptoms dad was contemplating vodka to ease his. He actually has been much better about not demanding his "medicine." I think he realized that he better walk a straight line (no pun intended) with me after the incident two weeks ago when he abused his alcohol privileges*.
Dad is a hypochondriac, for as long as I can remember, he complained about one thing or another. However, if dad were distracted with liquor or a deck of cards, his symptoms would miraculously disappear. Therefore, you have to understand, even at the age of 89, when dad complains it usually is related to boredom or anxiety. That being said, today for the first time in 2 ½ months, dad started complaining of chest discomfort. The nurse in me had my cell phone in hand ready to dial 911, but the daughter in me, knowing dad’s history for the dramatic, held off making the call.
Flashback Moment:
As a young adult going to college out-of-state I felt an obligation to call my father once a week, to sort of check in, I guess. Those conversations were never pleasant, dad would usually say something to upset me and I would hang up feeling terrible. During many of those brief chats dad would casually, either mention that he had suffered chest pain and the ambulance came or he took himself to the doctor. Dad was notorious for being in the hospital over the holidays too – The guilt trips were awful – “if you only hadn’t moved to California (I went to college) or to Colorado (where I ended up after college), I wouldn’t be alone and so sick,” he would say.
He hated being alone, but every time one of his daughters would invite him for a visit he would end up causing problems. That daughter would be the topic of gossip for months and then another daughter would do something to trigger his angst and she would become the topic of gossip. I can recall plenty of Thanksgiving holidays when he would come to Colorado and leave the family in ruins. He always knew how and what buttons to push to cause trouble and then would sit back and judge everyone.
Flash Forward - Present Day:
Back to dad’s current complaint − Remember the story of the boy who cried wolf? I didn’t want this particular episode to be a wolf moment. So I retrieved my nurse-bag and checked dad out just to be on the safe side - his blood pressure, was a little elevated at 140/90, but within his normal range. His pulse was 74 and his heart rate was strong. When I asked him to describe the pain, he said it felt like an ache and he pointed to the center of his chest. The pain was mild (a 2 on a scale of 1-10), and it was localized, which meant it didn't move down his arm or up his neck, etc. I think to myself for a minute that dad suffers from occasional digestive upset – it could be the orange juice (OJ) I gave him this morning. I meant to buy low acid juice and forgot – I know that regular OJ does not agree with me and I get terrible heartburn.
Dad startled me out of my deep thought when he asked me, “Am I going to die?" I looked up at him and said, "Eventually dad, but I don't think it will be today." He began to cry, “Dad I was only kidding with you,” I said, while he motioned for me to bend closer to his face. As I moved closer to him he blurred out, "You are not going to let me down?"
I didn’t quite understand the question. “What do you mean let you down? Do you mean, send you to a nursing home?” I asked. He nodded “yes.” He is so afraid that he is a burden, and that we will get tired of the stress and responsibility, and decide to put him in a nursing home. He hugged me tightly and stroked my hair, crying, he said, "You are the only one who cared about me, you take such good care of me, and I love you very much."
He calmed down and then said to me, I kept calling for you I thought you were not at home. I pointed to his cell phone and asked why he didn’t call me. I explained that I was in the shower, had he called me I would have noticed the missed call. "I don't know how to use this fancy phone," he says in frustration. What to do, I thought. Then I remembered that I had bought two small dry eraser boards. I have one in his bedroom that I use as a daily reminder for the day of the week and the date. I figured the second one would come in handy to write the directions for placing a cell phone call. I had dad practice with me about 4-5 times, first he would place a call to me and then I would call him. The first time he spoke into the phone but forgot to open it. The second time he dialed the number correctly but forgot to press the send key. After another 2-3 attempts, he was successful.
After lunch dad felt better. His blood pressure came down as well, 130/82 and the chest discomfort went away. I think that laying flat is also problematic for him, especially if the problem is acid indigestion. So, I brought him another pillow and demonstrated how he should use them. I put on a movie for him and reminded him to call me if he needed anything. I went upstairs to my office to do some work. I checked on him an hour later and he was sleeping comfortably.
Closing Comments:
The question of when to call an ambulance or take a loved one to the hospital can be difficult to assess. As a nurse, I feel confident in my decision to forego calling an ambulance. It was an easy decision only because I know my father, his medical history, and the pain he complains of has been an on-going battle for a number of years. Nevertheless, would I suggest that you or anyone else reading this Blog withhold medical intervention? The answer is most definitely no - it is always best to err on the side of caution. If at any time you think a loved one might be having a heart attack or stroke for example, don’t even bother driving to the hospital, instead call 911 immediately and follow the directions of the 911 operator – you might just save a life in the process.
*(medicine = vodka)when he decided to drink himself into a drunken stupor (12 oz of straight vodka)and I told him I was looking into nursing home placement because I took on more than I could handle with him.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
My Life as Primary Caregiver - The Horrors of Dentures
Thursday February 4, 2010
6 days since dad moved to Colorado
Today I took dad to the dentist to be fitted for dentures. It was decided that dad would get a full denture for the top and a partial for the bottom. His last four teeth (two on the top and two on the bottom) would be pulled this morning. Dad was excited about getting his teeth fixed. Since the accident, he has not been able to eat as his previous dental work was destroyed and his remaining teeth were damaged in the impact.
Dad did really well and tolerated the procedure without anything more than a local injection into his gums. After the procedure, the dentist placed the appliances into dad's mouth. I was actually surprised that this is done because the mouth is so tender and the pressure from the dentures, I would think would be incredibly painful.
However, the dentist assures me that this is the best way as the dentures will help keep the swelling and bleeding down and make it that much easier to tolerate the new anatomy in the mouth. Who am I to argue? I don't agree, but hopefully the dentist will be right about it. I have dad sleep with a soft mask (the kind you see dentists wear) so that it would catch any drainage from his mouth.
Friday February 5, 2010
Dad wakes up in horrible pain. I am so glad I had dad where the soft mask because it was full of blood and other drainage, which would have been all over the pillow if it had not been contained, by the mask. The gums were terribly red and sore. I gave dad some ibuprofen to help with the swelling and then had him rinse his mouth with an antiseptic rinse I purchased before hand for this occasion. I feel so badly for dad, I had my wisdom teeth pulled 30 years ago and to this day I still remember the pain I had - it last a good ten days. I worry about dad getting dehydrated, so I keep him on a high liquid diet for now.
Monday February 8, 2010
4 days since denture procedure
Dad is in a lot of pain and discomfort from the dentures. We stop in today and the dentist makes some adjustments. He assures me that this is normal and to come back as often as necessary for adjustments.
Monday February 15, 2010
11 days since denture procedure
Dad is not tolerating the dentures at all. He tells me the bridge is fine but the upper denture is hurting him. What is frustrating to me is he complains to me about it and then when we go into the dentist he acts as if the pain is minor. I think this dentist is a saint for putting up with dad. I wonder how many of his other clients are coming in this frequently.
Monday February 22, 2010
18 days since denture procedure
The dentist continues to advice dad to wear the dentures all day to get used to them. But my father will not listen. He tells the dentist that the adjustment feels very good. We go home, he eats lunch and then complains the appliance hurts and he takes them out. Now he is talking about having the remaining two teeth pulled because he doesn't want the dentures anymore! Larry and I convince him that it really is in his best interest to keep the dentures so he can enjoy food and not just live on soup and soft foods.
Monday March 1, 2010
25 days since denture procedure
The dentist is able to see what is hurting dad; evidently, there is some bone that is exposed where a dead tooth was pulled. He does something to the area and then adjusts the dentures and guess what? My dad finally has a big smile on his face. The dentures don't hurt. To be sure I give him a couple of crackers to eat - I should have done this weeks ago. I want to make sure that the dentures feel fine when he is eating something. So far so good, he says. So now we have good fitting and comfortable top denture and no complaints about the bottoms (they seem to fit fine since the first day).
Monday March 15, 2010
39 days since denture procedure
Over the last few days dad started complaining that the bottom bridge now does not fit well. Perhaps the pain of the upper denture was masking the bottom bridge pain. I don't know, but now we have to deal with the bridge. Oh this poor dentist, I feel so sorry for him. He has been nothing but kind, but I wonder how long that will last?
The dentist makes significant changes to the bridge so it fits more comfortably and I am worried that it is going to be too loose. Sure enough at dinner dad is complaining that food is getting under the bridge and pushing it up. He is very frustrated and says that the dentist "killed my teeth."
Monday March 22, 2010
46 days after denture procedure
The dentist always greets us with a smile and kind word. I don't see a wedding band on his finger - surprising, he should be married - the guy would make a great husband! So patient, considerate, and kind. On the other hand, maybe he was married and took all of his work frustration out at home? Hmmm, I wonder, the guy is just too perfect.
He spends a long time with dad today, and brings in his technician to see what can be done with the bottom bridge. Dad leaves and still complains. The dentist asks him to please wear it all day for the next couple of weeks too much adjusting may break the bridge. I knew dad would not listen. He ate lunch. Complained that the top denture keeps falling down and the bridge keeps coming up. He takes them both out right at the lunch table. How gross, good thing my kids and Larry were not around to see this little display.
Monday April 5, 2010
53 days after denture procedure
Dad refuses to wear the dentures - he says he can eat without them. Just pull the bottom two teeth and his gums are strong enough to eat anything. To prove it he eats an apple that he cuts into quarters. I was surprised to see him eat it with no problem. However, 30 minutes later he tells me that his gums are hurting him. I reminded him that he is expecting his gums to do the job of real teeth and they are going to hurt. He still does not want the dentures.
I wait a week to see if dad still feels this strongly about the dentures. He is so indecisive, one day he wants them, and the next day he doesn't, the next day he wants me to make the decision. No wonder he never did anything with his life, he can't make up his mind!
Monday April 12 2010
60 days after denture procedure
Well, dad still does not want the dentures. The dentist told me about a month ago that if the dentures don't work out he would give us our money back He will keep trying to make it perfect if we give him the chance. I call the office, so apologetic; the receptionist was very kind and said that I should bring back in the dentures and she would give me a check. I didn't even ask if it were for the full amount because I was so embarrassed and just wanted to get off the phone.
Monday April 19 2010
67 days after denture procedure
I am supposed to bring in the dentures today. I dread going back to the dentist. First, I don't know if I am going to get the full amount back. Could he decide to charge us for each week of adjustments? I mention to dad that today I will bring the dentures back to the dentist. He says, "Maybe I should give them another chance?" My mouth dropped open and I just stared at him in exasperation. Fortunately, Larry and the kids were a witness to this because my dad will deny ever saying it (he has very selective memory). I call the dentist and thank goodness, I got the voicemail. I left a message, and asked for their patience and understanding with my almost 90 year old dad. He wants to try again. I would like to know if I could bring him in later this week for another adjustment. No response back yet.
Here is a word of caution to all of you out there considering dentures. Take it seriously and make sure you are willing to make the commitment to them. Dentures are not like real teeth; they serve a purpose, but do not take the place of real teeth. You have to get used to them, plain and simple. Although I still have all of my teeth and can't speak for denture-wear, I can say that I had to wear a full set of braces for 18 months between the ages of 45-47. I hated them. Food would be stuck in the braces, the wires would poke me in the gums, and I would get sores from pressure points. However, I got used to them. Now at the age of 50 I have the most gorgeous set of teeth! I don't even remember all the discomfort.
6 days since dad moved to Colorado
Today I took dad to the dentist to be fitted for dentures. It was decided that dad would get a full denture for the top and a partial for the bottom. His last four teeth (two on the top and two on the bottom) would be pulled this morning. Dad was excited about getting his teeth fixed. Since the accident, he has not been able to eat as his previous dental work was destroyed and his remaining teeth were damaged in the impact.
Dad did really well and tolerated the procedure without anything more than a local injection into his gums. After the procedure, the dentist placed the appliances into dad's mouth. I was actually surprised that this is done because the mouth is so tender and the pressure from the dentures, I would think would be incredibly painful.
However, the dentist assures me that this is the best way as the dentures will help keep the swelling and bleeding down and make it that much easier to tolerate the new anatomy in the mouth. Who am I to argue? I don't agree, but hopefully the dentist will be right about it. I have dad sleep with a soft mask (the kind you see dentists wear) so that it would catch any drainage from his mouth.
Friday February 5, 2010
Dad wakes up in horrible pain. I am so glad I had dad where the soft mask because it was full of blood and other drainage, which would have been all over the pillow if it had not been contained, by the mask. The gums were terribly red and sore. I gave dad some ibuprofen to help with the swelling and then had him rinse his mouth with an antiseptic rinse I purchased before hand for this occasion. I feel so badly for dad, I had my wisdom teeth pulled 30 years ago and to this day I still remember the pain I had - it last a good ten days. I worry about dad getting dehydrated, so I keep him on a high liquid diet for now.
Monday February 8, 2010
4 days since denture procedure
Dad is in a lot of pain and discomfort from the dentures. We stop in today and the dentist makes some adjustments. He assures me that this is normal and to come back as often as necessary for adjustments.
Monday February 15, 2010
11 days since denture procedure
Dad is not tolerating the dentures at all. He tells me the bridge is fine but the upper denture is hurting him. What is frustrating to me is he complains to me about it and then when we go into the dentist he acts as if the pain is minor. I think this dentist is a saint for putting up with dad. I wonder how many of his other clients are coming in this frequently.
Monday February 22, 2010
18 days since denture procedure
The dentist continues to advice dad to wear the dentures all day to get used to them. But my father will not listen. He tells the dentist that the adjustment feels very good. We go home, he eats lunch and then complains the appliance hurts and he takes them out. Now he is talking about having the remaining two teeth pulled because he doesn't want the dentures anymore! Larry and I convince him that it really is in his best interest to keep the dentures so he can enjoy food and not just live on soup and soft foods.
Monday March 1, 2010
25 days since denture procedure
The dentist is able to see what is hurting dad; evidently, there is some bone that is exposed where a dead tooth was pulled. He does something to the area and then adjusts the dentures and guess what? My dad finally has a big smile on his face. The dentures don't hurt. To be sure I give him a couple of crackers to eat - I should have done this weeks ago. I want to make sure that the dentures feel fine when he is eating something. So far so good, he says. So now we have good fitting and comfortable top denture and no complaints about the bottoms (they seem to fit fine since the first day).
Monday March 15, 2010
39 days since denture procedure
Over the last few days dad started complaining that the bottom bridge now does not fit well. Perhaps the pain of the upper denture was masking the bottom bridge pain. I don't know, but now we have to deal with the bridge. Oh this poor dentist, I feel so sorry for him. He has been nothing but kind, but I wonder how long that will last?
The dentist makes significant changes to the bridge so it fits more comfortably and I am worried that it is going to be too loose. Sure enough at dinner dad is complaining that food is getting under the bridge and pushing it up. He is very frustrated and says that the dentist "killed my teeth."
Monday March 22, 2010
46 days after denture procedure
The dentist always greets us with a smile and kind word. I don't see a wedding band on his finger - surprising, he should be married - the guy would make a great husband! So patient, considerate, and kind. On the other hand, maybe he was married and took all of his work frustration out at home? Hmmm, I wonder, the guy is just too perfect.
He spends a long time with dad today, and brings in his technician to see what can be done with the bottom bridge. Dad leaves and still complains. The dentist asks him to please wear it all day for the next couple of weeks too much adjusting may break the bridge. I knew dad would not listen. He ate lunch. Complained that the top denture keeps falling down and the bridge keeps coming up. He takes them both out right at the lunch table. How gross, good thing my kids and Larry were not around to see this little display.
Monday April 5, 2010
53 days after denture procedure
Dad refuses to wear the dentures - he says he can eat without them. Just pull the bottom two teeth and his gums are strong enough to eat anything. To prove it he eats an apple that he cuts into quarters. I was surprised to see him eat it with no problem. However, 30 minutes later he tells me that his gums are hurting him. I reminded him that he is expecting his gums to do the job of real teeth and they are going to hurt. He still does not want the dentures.
I wait a week to see if dad still feels this strongly about the dentures. He is so indecisive, one day he wants them, and the next day he doesn't, the next day he wants me to make the decision. No wonder he never did anything with his life, he can't make up his mind!
Monday April 12 2010
60 days after denture procedure
Well, dad still does not want the dentures. The dentist told me about a month ago that if the dentures don't work out he would give us our money back He will keep trying to make it perfect if we give him the chance. I call the office, so apologetic; the receptionist was very kind and said that I should bring back in the dentures and she would give me a check. I didn't even ask if it were for the full amount because I was so embarrassed and just wanted to get off the phone.
Monday April 19 2010
67 days after denture procedure
I am supposed to bring in the dentures today. I dread going back to the dentist. First, I don't know if I am going to get the full amount back. Could he decide to charge us for each week of adjustments? I mention to dad that today I will bring the dentures back to the dentist. He says, "Maybe I should give them another chance?" My mouth dropped open and I just stared at him in exasperation. Fortunately, Larry and the kids were a witness to this because my dad will deny ever saying it (he has very selective memory). I call the dentist and thank goodness, I got the voicemail. I left a message, and asked for their patience and understanding with my almost 90 year old dad. He wants to try again. I would like to know if I could bring him in later this week for another adjustment. No response back yet.
Here is a word of caution to all of you out there considering dentures. Take it seriously and make sure you are willing to make the commitment to them. Dentures are not like real teeth; they serve a purpose, but do not take the place of real teeth. You have to get used to them, plain and simple. Although I still have all of my teeth and can't speak for denture-wear, I can say that I had to wear a full set of braces for 18 months between the ages of 45-47. I hated them. Food would be stuck in the braces, the wires would poke me in the gums, and I would get sores from pressure points. However, I got used to them. Now at the age of 50 I have the most gorgeous set of teeth! I don't even remember all the discomfort.
Taking Care of Dad - Dental and Medical Appointments
Monday – February 1, 2010
28 days after the accident
6am: I have a friend who takes my kids to school on Monday and Tuesday morning, which is such a relief because I don’t want to leave my father alone until I know what his abilities are. I watch the kids leave at 6:30am and check on my father. He is still sleeping so I take the opportunity to get a little more sleep myself.
9am: My father is quietly lying in bed. I call his name gently and he looks up at me. “Good morning Dad,” I announce. “Come on, let’s have some breakfast.” I am happy to see that he is moving a little better today and he is less confused from the day before. I pour him a glass of fresh apple juice, which he gulps down. I suspect he only nutritious meal of the day was lunch at the senior center. My goal right now is to help him regain his strength.
For breakfast: I gave him the fruit and oatmeal warm breakfast cereal and a fruit salad with ½ banana and 2 strawberries cut up small; ½ cup of decaf coffee and 1 small chocolate macaroon.
Dad is extremely constipated, the nursing home sent him out here with two huge bags of strong oral medications. Just three days before I picked him up in New York he was rushed to the hospital because he passed out while having a bowel movement. He doesn't need medicines he needs activity, plenty of water, and proper nutrition.
My second goal for dad is to clear up his constipation and get his bowels working properly. I increase his water and make sure he eats plenty of ripe fruit. I am also going to put him on some supplements and probiotics to help the process along.
10:30 am: We have an appointment to fit dad for dentures. The consult goes well, tomorrow dad will return to have four teeth removed and his temporary dentures fitted. He will eat much better now that he has teeth. Evidently, the bridge he had in New York was destroyed when he was hit by the car.
12:00 noon: I take dad to lunch at this new sandwich shop right down the street. We can smell the fresh bread as we walk into the shop and my mouth began to salivate, I forgot to have breakfast and did not realize how hungry I was.
I ordered an 8” vegetarian sub for dad and I to share, it had lettuce, tomato, alfalfa sprouts, avocado and Swiss cheese. Delicious! My father actually does pretty well without teeth, still I had the sub cut into four sections and had them slice the tomatoes and lettuce very thin and small.
1:00pm Stop at Walgreens to fill the prescription for the antibiotic that dad will take after he has his teeth pulled. It is very important for individuals with heart conditions to take antibiotics after having any kind of oral work done to prevent infection. While I was in the pharmacy, I picked up another cervical collar for my dad so I could wash the one he was wearing. Also bought him a comb, latex gloves to change the gauze pads he will have in his mouth tomorrow, razor and shaving cream so he can shave tonight, and some fruit popsicles in anticipation of him wanting something cool in his mouth after surgery.
2:15pm Pulled into the garage and helped dad into his room. I hung up his coat while he took off his sneakers and socks. We went into the kitchen and I poured him a glass of water. We chatted for a few minutes and when the kids came home from school they visited with him while enjoying their afternoon snack. My son helped dad over to the recliner and elevated his legs. He pulled out a deck of cards and began showing him some new card tricks. I took the opportunity to throw a load of my own clothes into the washing machine, and sat down to pay some household bills and make a couple of phone calls to set up doctor and eye appointment for my father next week.
I remembered that a new practice opened up just minutes from the house and there was a good eye-doctor in the shopping center where I go for groceries. I was pleased to get those appointments out of the way. Dad still has his secondary insurance from New York but I am going to have to find other insurance because they will not cover him after 30 days (his type of insurance is only good in New York).
4:00pm Dad goes into his bedroom to watch the news and rest while I begin making dinner. I thought a nice pork roast would be nice. I had marinated it with ginger and pear juice, placed a few slits into the meat, and placed it a hot oven for a couple of hours. I made a couple of vegetable dishes, long grain rice, and then headed upstairs to visit with the kids before dinner.
6:15pm My husband gets dad and the kids set the table while I pull out the pork roast and slice it – oh it smelled so good, I couldn’t wait to sit down with a glass of white and enjoy my family’s company over a nice dinner.
Dinner has always been an important ritual in our home; we eat as a family every night, with little exception. It is our time to relax and share each other’s day. My father enjoys this part of the day very much because he was so lonely living by himself, the chatter and laughing puts a very big smile on his face. Warms my heart to see him so joyful and engaged. He has been depressed and fearful ever since the rehab staff told him he can't live alone anymore. I am going to see if I can set up some counseling sessions for him to help him during this difficult transition.
28 days after the accident
6am: I have a friend who takes my kids to school on Monday and Tuesday morning, which is such a relief because I don’t want to leave my father alone until I know what his abilities are. I watch the kids leave at 6:30am and check on my father. He is still sleeping so I take the opportunity to get a little more sleep myself.
9am: My father is quietly lying in bed. I call his name gently and he looks up at me. “Good morning Dad,” I announce. “Come on, let’s have some breakfast.” I am happy to see that he is moving a little better today and he is less confused from the day before. I pour him a glass of fresh apple juice, which he gulps down. I suspect he only nutritious meal of the day was lunch at the senior center. My goal right now is to help him regain his strength.
For breakfast: I gave him the fruit and oatmeal warm breakfast cereal and a fruit salad with ½ banana and 2 strawberries cut up small; ½ cup of decaf coffee and 1 small chocolate macaroon.
Dad is extremely constipated, the nursing home sent him out here with two huge bags of strong oral medications. Just three days before I picked him up in New York he was rushed to the hospital because he passed out while having a bowel movement. He doesn't need medicines he needs activity, plenty of water, and proper nutrition.
My second goal for dad is to clear up his constipation and get his bowels working properly. I increase his water and make sure he eats plenty of ripe fruit. I am also going to put him on some supplements and probiotics to help the process along.
10:30 am: We have an appointment to fit dad for dentures. The consult goes well, tomorrow dad will return to have four teeth removed and his temporary dentures fitted. He will eat much better now that he has teeth. Evidently, the bridge he had in New York was destroyed when he was hit by the car.
12:00 noon: I take dad to lunch at this new sandwich shop right down the street. We can smell the fresh bread as we walk into the shop and my mouth began to salivate, I forgot to have breakfast and did not realize how hungry I was.
I ordered an 8” vegetarian sub for dad and I to share, it had lettuce, tomato, alfalfa sprouts, avocado and Swiss cheese. Delicious! My father actually does pretty well without teeth, still I had the sub cut into four sections and had them slice the tomatoes and lettuce very thin and small.
1:00pm Stop at Walgreens to fill the prescription for the antibiotic that dad will take after he has his teeth pulled. It is very important for individuals with heart conditions to take antibiotics after having any kind of oral work done to prevent infection. While I was in the pharmacy, I picked up another cervical collar for my dad so I could wash the one he was wearing. Also bought him a comb, latex gloves to change the gauze pads he will have in his mouth tomorrow, razor and shaving cream so he can shave tonight, and some fruit popsicles in anticipation of him wanting something cool in his mouth after surgery.
2:15pm Pulled into the garage and helped dad into his room. I hung up his coat while he took off his sneakers and socks. We went into the kitchen and I poured him a glass of water. We chatted for a few minutes and when the kids came home from school they visited with him while enjoying their afternoon snack. My son helped dad over to the recliner and elevated his legs. He pulled out a deck of cards and began showing him some new card tricks. I took the opportunity to throw a load of my own clothes into the washing machine, and sat down to pay some household bills and make a couple of phone calls to set up doctor and eye appointment for my father next week.
I remembered that a new practice opened up just minutes from the house and there was a good eye-doctor in the shopping center where I go for groceries. I was pleased to get those appointments out of the way. Dad still has his secondary insurance from New York but I am going to have to find other insurance because they will not cover him after 30 days (his type of insurance is only good in New York).
4:00pm Dad goes into his bedroom to watch the news and rest while I begin making dinner. I thought a nice pork roast would be nice. I had marinated it with ginger and pear juice, placed a few slits into the meat, and placed it a hot oven for a couple of hours. I made a couple of vegetable dishes, long grain rice, and then headed upstairs to visit with the kids before dinner.
6:15pm My husband gets dad and the kids set the table while I pull out the pork roast and slice it – oh it smelled so good, I couldn’t wait to sit down with a glass of white and enjoy my family’s company over a nice dinner.
Dinner has always been an important ritual in our home; we eat as a family every night, with little exception. It is our time to relax and share each other’s day. My father enjoys this part of the day very much because he was so lonely living by himself, the chatter and laughing puts a very big smile on his face. Warms my heart to see him so joyful and engaged. He has been depressed and fearful ever since the rehab staff told him he can't live alone anymore. I am going to see if I can set up some counseling sessions for him to help him during this difficult transition.
Friday – January 29, 2010
25 days after the accident
1 day in Colorado
10am: My father wakes up in good spirits, he slept very well. I am not surprised considering how late we got in last night. My children are off to school and my husband is sleeping (he works the night shift). So I make a light breakfast for my father, since I am not sure what kind of foods he likes, I give him a fresh fruit platter, cut small since he has only 4 teeth, two top canines and two bottom. He enjoys the fresh blueberries, strawberries, and bananas. Next, I give him 3 oz of yogurt and a cup of decaffeinated black coffee with a shortbread cookie.
11am: I set him up on the reclining chair by the front bay window so he can relax, get some sun, and read the morning paper, while I clean up the kitchen. He is close enough for me to see and talk too.
12 noon: He is tired, I help him back to bed and put on the television for him, and he watches a movie and falls back to sleep about 2pm.
2-4pm: I take this opportunity to empty his two suitcases and wash all of his clothes. Because he used a washboard to clean his clothes, most of them were so embedded with dirt and grime and so worn thin that they fell apart in the washing machine! One of his coats just shredded in the washing machine, I was shocked at the condition of these clothes.
4pm: My husband arrives home with the kids. It was a nice reunion for everyone, my father’s eyes lit up when he saw the kids and my husband. Fortunately, my husband and father get along very well. This would be especially difficult if that relaxation was not intact. The kids entertain my father while I begin getting an early dinner on the table for everyone.
5:15pm: We sit down to homemade meatballs and spaghetti. I know my father cannot eat this; I made him a bowl of homemade squash soup. I don’t want to push the food, let him eat slowly and regain his strength. Besides, I don’t know what kinds of foods he can tolerate, squash is easy on the digestive system and he enjoyed it.
6:30pm: My husband spends some time talking to my father while the kids and I clean the kitchen. I overhear my father say, “Are you sure I am not a burden to you?” My husband tells my father, “Nate you are part of the family, and never a burden, we are happy to help you, and glad you are here.” My father cries, he is depressed and scared, still confused, he asks my husband three times if he is a burden. Each time my husband reassures him that everything is fine and will be fine.
7:30pm: We all watch a little television in my father’s room, he starts to fall asleep at 8:45pm so we kiss him goodnight and turn off the television.
25 days after the accident
1 day in Colorado
10am: My father wakes up in good spirits, he slept very well. I am not surprised considering how late we got in last night. My children are off to school and my husband is sleeping (he works the night shift). So I make a light breakfast for my father, since I am not sure what kind of foods he likes, I give him a fresh fruit platter, cut small since he has only 4 teeth, two top canines and two bottom. He enjoys the fresh blueberries, strawberries, and bananas. Next, I give him 3 oz of yogurt and a cup of decaffeinated black coffee with a shortbread cookie.
11am: I set him up on the reclining chair by the front bay window so he can relax, get some sun, and read the morning paper, while I clean up the kitchen. He is close enough for me to see and talk too.
12 noon: He is tired, I help him back to bed and put on the television for him, and he watches a movie and falls back to sleep about 2pm.
2-4pm: I take this opportunity to empty his two suitcases and wash all of his clothes. Because he used a washboard to clean his clothes, most of them were so embedded with dirt and grime and so worn thin that they fell apart in the washing machine! One of his coats just shredded in the washing machine, I was shocked at the condition of these clothes.
4pm: My husband arrives home with the kids. It was a nice reunion for everyone, my father’s eyes lit up when he saw the kids and my husband. Fortunately, my husband and father get along very well. This would be especially difficult if that relaxation was not intact. The kids entertain my father while I begin getting an early dinner on the table for everyone.
5:15pm: We sit down to homemade meatballs and spaghetti. I know my father cannot eat this; I made him a bowl of homemade squash soup. I don’t want to push the food, let him eat slowly and regain his strength. Besides, I don’t know what kinds of foods he can tolerate, squash is easy on the digestive system and he enjoyed it.
6:30pm: My husband spends some time talking to my father while the kids and I clean the kitchen. I overhear my father say, “Are you sure I am not a burden to you?” My husband tells my father, “Nate you are part of the family, and never a burden, we are happy to help you, and glad you are here.” My father cries, he is depressed and scared, still confused, he asks my husband three times if he is a burden. Each time my husband reassures him that everything is fine and will be fine.
7:30pm: We all watch a little television in my father’s room, he starts to fall asleep at 8:45pm so we kiss him goodnight and turn off the television.
Taking Care of Dad - My Journey as a Primary Caregiver
Tuesday January 5, 2010
while crossing the street on the way home from his daily 1 mile walk, dad is hit by a car. The young driver is speeding up to make the light and does not see dad in the crosswalk. Dad is admitted to the hospital in critical condition. He has a C-2 fracture of his cervical spine, a scalp hematoma, bruised left tibia bone, and various cuts, scrapes, and bruises. I will not be contacted until Friday!
Flashback:
I have been trying to get a hold of dad since Sunday. We speak several times during the week. Dad lives in Brooklyn, New York and I live in Northern Colorado. I worry about him living alone. He refuses to go into a retirement home and is not ready to move to Colorado to live with my family and me.
Wednesday January 6, 2010
I get a call from John, dad's super (he keeps an eye on dad for me) he has not seen dad in two days, but the television in his apartment has been on continuously. I mentioned that I too have not been able to get in touch with him. He does not have a key to the apartment,as the tenants are the only ones with keys.
Thursday January 7 2010
I contact Benny, one of my childhood best friends, who lives in Brooklyn to go check on dad. Benny and I have been talking me sending him a copy of dad's apartment key. I wish I had done so two months ago when we first spoke about it. It is now about 10pm EST, and we have no choice but to contact the police. The police want to breakdown the door, but I get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. I ask the police to wait another day so I can check the local hospitals.
Friday, January 8, 2010
3 days after the accident
The hospital contacts me to inform me of dad's accident. His injuries are serious but by some miracle, he is not paralyzed the neck fracture does not touch the spinal cord. He is going to be transferred this weekend to a rehabilitation facility (a nursing home) for several weeks. Dad is too confused to speak to me. The social worker at the hospital suggests that I wait until he is settled in at the nursing home.
Monday January 11, 2010
6 days after the accident
I have called the hospital all weekend to check on dad. He finally is transferred to the nursing home about 7pm.
Tuesday January 12, 2010
Finally I get to speak to someone - the social worker informs me that dad is in bad shape and although it looks like he is going to make it, a miracle really, he will not be able to go back to independent living. As both his medical and financial power of attorney, I am going to have to decide about placement for him.
I finally get to speak to dad. He is very confused, keeps repeating himself, I find that I continually have to reorient him to what happened, where he is, who I am, etc. Come to find out that the hematoma is in that part of the brain where memory is stored. Dad may never regain his memory or be able to retrieve any. I am so scared for him.
Wednesday January 13 - 20, 2010
9th day after the accident and more
During the next week, I check in on dad three times per day, speaking to the social worker, doctor, and nursing staff daily as well. Each time I speak to dad, he sounds scared and confused. Tells me that they won't let him out of bed, he must wait for someone to walk with him to meals or they bring the tray to him in bed when they are short staff to walk with him. He is crying all the time, begging me to get him out of the nursing home.
The doctor and social confirm, what I already suspect, that dad can no longer live independently. I must decide now about placement. I ask dad what he wants to do - nursing home or come to live with me. He wants neither - and continues to hold onto hopes of going home.
Later that day,I receive a phone call from a(home health)social worker, who has been following dad for months. She was worried about dad because he missed their last two appointments. I filled her in on his situation and she generously offered to speak to dad to help him during this transition.
In the meantime, I have to start making plans to go to New York and put dad's affairs in order. I will have no help in closing his apartment, rerouting his mail, closing his bank accounts, terminating the utility bills, contacting his doctors, getting current prescriptions, etc. How the heck am I going to do this without any help? A major concern is also brewing in my own household. I have no one to take my two kids,Joey 15 and Jessica 14 to school or stay with them while my husband works(the night-shift).
I struggle with so much right now. I know dad never wanted to go into a nursing home. He won't even try to see the positive in this situation - that at 89 he managed to live independently all this time, and the accident did not leave him paralyzed. Nope, I suspect he is going to fight me all the way.
My other concern is a serious one - will dad get the proper care in a nursing home? He has a broken neck and must wear a hard collar for the rest of his life. He is too old to risk surgery. As it is, the staff is struggling with dad now; he keeps breaking his collar, during his attempts to remove it. He is on his fifth collar and the doctor has asked me to convince him to leave the collar in place. So already, I am worried sick that before I even get out there dad is going to sever his spinal cord.
Wednesday January 20, 2010
16 days after the accident
The consensus, after speaking to the doctor, social worker, and the home health social worker, is to bring dad to Colorado to live with us, at least while he is recuperating. After that we will see. I just can't think that far ahead.
I immediately make all the arrangements to fly into New York on January 25 (overnight flight,)and return home with dad on January 28(late evening). Yes, that is right, I have only a little over 3 days to close dad's apartment and take care of all his financial and other related things.
There are several problems, first is my health. I have severe lower back problems and a condition called Mixed Connective Tissue Disease. I would not be able to handle two layovers each way. Frankly, I don't know if I am going to be able to handle one flight. Although I am in remission, I have residual problems from the illness.
Larry wants to come with me but he has to stay behind to take care of the kids. Well his boss will only give him the 25th to 28th off, which is the other reason why my trip has to be so short. We decide that I will take one of the kids with me to help me. Jessica is eager to go and I think it would be good for her and me as well to have this time together.
I just made the reservations online and paid for the tickets. the cheapest tickets I could find put us on non-refundable, non-change tickets. So the plans are made - there is no looking back now...
At the age of 89, my dad has lived independently and alone, since the death of my mother back in 1970. No longer able to go back home my husband and I made the decision to bring dad home with us to Colorado to live with our family. It is going to be a difficult journey for all of us. My dad came to this country in 1949 and has lived in Brooklyn, New York for the last 40 years.
while crossing the street on the way home from his daily 1 mile walk, dad is hit by a car. The young driver is speeding up to make the light and does not see dad in the crosswalk. Dad is admitted to the hospital in critical condition. He has a C-2 fracture of his cervical spine, a scalp hematoma, bruised left tibia bone, and various cuts, scrapes, and bruises. I will not be contacted until Friday!
Flashback:
I have been trying to get a hold of dad since Sunday. We speak several times during the week. Dad lives in Brooklyn, New York and I live in Northern Colorado. I worry about him living alone. He refuses to go into a retirement home and is not ready to move to Colorado to live with my family and me.
Wednesday January 6, 2010
I get a call from John, dad's super (he keeps an eye on dad for me) he has not seen dad in two days, but the television in his apartment has been on continuously. I mentioned that I too have not been able to get in touch with him. He does not have a key to the apartment,as the tenants are the only ones with keys.
Thursday January 7 2010
I contact Benny, one of my childhood best friends, who lives in Brooklyn to go check on dad. Benny and I have been talking me sending him a copy of dad's apartment key. I wish I had done so two months ago when we first spoke about it. It is now about 10pm EST, and we have no choice but to contact the police. The police want to breakdown the door, but I get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. I ask the police to wait another day so I can check the local hospitals.
Friday, January 8, 2010
3 days after the accident
The hospital contacts me to inform me of dad's accident. His injuries are serious but by some miracle, he is not paralyzed the neck fracture does not touch the spinal cord. He is going to be transferred this weekend to a rehabilitation facility (a nursing home) for several weeks. Dad is too confused to speak to me. The social worker at the hospital suggests that I wait until he is settled in at the nursing home.
Monday January 11, 2010
6 days after the accident
I have called the hospital all weekend to check on dad. He finally is transferred to the nursing home about 7pm.
Tuesday January 12, 2010
Finally I get to speak to someone - the social worker informs me that dad is in bad shape and although it looks like he is going to make it, a miracle really, he will not be able to go back to independent living. As both his medical and financial power of attorney, I am going to have to decide about placement for him.
I finally get to speak to dad. He is very confused, keeps repeating himself, I find that I continually have to reorient him to what happened, where he is, who I am, etc. Come to find out that the hematoma is in that part of the brain where memory is stored. Dad may never regain his memory or be able to retrieve any. I am so scared for him.
Wednesday January 13 - 20, 2010
9th day after the accident and more
During the next week, I check in on dad three times per day, speaking to the social worker, doctor, and nursing staff daily as well. Each time I speak to dad, he sounds scared and confused. Tells me that they won't let him out of bed, he must wait for someone to walk with him to meals or they bring the tray to him in bed when they are short staff to walk with him. He is crying all the time, begging me to get him out of the nursing home.
The doctor and social confirm, what I already suspect, that dad can no longer live independently. I must decide now about placement. I ask dad what he wants to do - nursing home or come to live with me. He wants neither - and continues to hold onto hopes of going home.
Later that day,I receive a phone call from a(home health)social worker, who has been following dad for months. She was worried about dad because he missed their last two appointments. I filled her in on his situation and she generously offered to speak to dad to help him during this transition.
In the meantime, I have to start making plans to go to New York and put dad's affairs in order. I will have no help in closing his apartment, rerouting his mail, closing his bank accounts, terminating the utility bills, contacting his doctors, getting current prescriptions, etc. How the heck am I going to do this without any help? A major concern is also brewing in my own household. I have no one to take my two kids,Joey 15 and Jessica 14 to school or stay with them while my husband works(the night-shift).
I struggle with so much right now. I know dad never wanted to go into a nursing home. He won't even try to see the positive in this situation - that at 89 he managed to live independently all this time, and the accident did not leave him paralyzed. Nope, I suspect he is going to fight me all the way.
My other concern is a serious one - will dad get the proper care in a nursing home? He has a broken neck and must wear a hard collar for the rest of his life. He is too old to risk surgery. As it is, the staff is struggling with dad now; he keeps breaking his collar, during his attempts to remove it. He is on his fifth collar and the doctor has asked me to convince him to leave the collar in place. So already, I am worried sick that before I even get out there dad is going to sever his spinal cord.
Wednesday January 20, 2010
16 days after the accident
The consensus, after speaking to the doctor, social worker, and the home health social worker, is to bring dad to Colorado to live with us, at least while he is recuperating. After that we will see. I just can't think that far ahead.
I immediately make all the arrangements to fly into New York on January 25 (overnight flight,)and return home with dad on January 28(late evening). Yes, that is right, I have only a little over 3 days to close dad's apartment and take care of all his financial and other related things.
There are several problems, first is my health. I have severe lower back problems and a condition called Mixed Connective Tissue Disease. I would not be able to handle two layovers each way. Frankly, I don't know if I am going to be able to handle one flight. Although I am in remission, I have residual problems from the illness.
Larry wants to come with me but he has to stay behind to take care of the kids. Well his boss will only give him the 25th to 28th off, which is the other reason why my trip has to be so short. We decide that I will take one of the kids with me to help me. Jessica is eager to go and I think it would be good for her and me as well to have this time together.
I just made the reservations online and paid for the tickets. the cheapest tickets I could find put us on non-refundable, non-change tickets. So the plans are made - there is no looking back now...
At the age of 89, my dad has lived independently and alone, since the death of my mother back in 1970. No longer able to go back home my husband and I made the decision to bring dad home with us to Colorado to live with our family. It is going to be a difficult journey for all of us. My dad came to this country in 1949 and has lived in Brooklyn, New York for the last 40 years.
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