Dad is still with us!

It has been a little over two years since dad came to live with us - he turns 92 in August.  He is doing extremely well, and me, not so well.  I am exhausted and in desperate need of a very long vacation.

When I brought dad out here two years ago I was told by the doctors that he probably wouldn't live very long.  He was so frail and sick.  I wanted to make him comfortable and to let him know that he was surrounded by family that cared about him.

I am a nurse - and I guess a pretty good one because dad is actually thriving.  Of course that is wonderful.  But the truth is I never would have brought him into my home if I knew it was going to be for the long haul.

So, now what do I do?  I can't bring myself to place him in a nursing home.  Dad never prepared for the possibility that he would spend his finally years in a nursing home.  He just assumed he would either die at home from old age or the hospital!  He also never thought he would live to be over 90 either! 

He is in a real pickle.  He can't afford one of the "good" nursing homes.  The best he can do at this point is placement in a state-run facility; and I wouldn't put a dog in one of those places!

I am stuck between a rock and a hard place.  My children and husband have been wonderful with the situation.  No one is overtly complaining, but I know how difficult the situation is.  I am happy to help my father, but who is going to help me? 

Now dad tells me that he wants to go on vacation with the family this summer.  Two years ago I took him to California to see his brother - they had not seen each other in over thirty years!   Dad doesn't even remember going to California!  All that effort and aggravation and he doesn't even remember going!!

Just the other day my son found dad crying in his bedroom.   Dad thought that I went on vacation and left him behind!   Is it unfair of me to not want to take him on another trip?  It was not easy - dad got confused and soiled his bed.  I was horrified and thought for sure that the hotel would charge me for the damage.  Thank goodness they didn't.

The family barely slept well during that trip because dad would get confused during the middle of the night and wander into the ajoining room and stand at the foot of my hotel bed.  He would literally stand there and just stare at us.  It felt like a bad horror movie!    The first night he did this I awoke to find him hovering over me and I let out this totally uninhibited scream.

Taking care of an elderly parent is worse than raising children.  We come into this world helpless and totally dependent on others for our care; while our elderly often find themselves in the same predicament, totally dependent on children or other caregivers.  Changing a child's diaper is one thing, changing a parent's diaper is a completely different and totally inappropriate experience.  Fortunately for me, dad is still able to perform his own personal care needs. 

Listen to me - if you get a phone call in the middle of the night to fly across the country and pick up your elderly parent, tell the person on the other end of the line that they got a wrong phone number!  Trust me, they won't put your parent out in the street.   It will buy you some time to sell off all of your possessions and leave the country! 

Only kidding - well, maybe halfway kidding...

Linda

Family Visits

I don't have a large family.  That being said, the family I do have is spread all over the country.  Last month we took my father to California to see his brother and his niece.  Earlier this month my niece came out to see her grandfather all the way from Connecticut.

My father wants so desperately to see his entire family before he dies. Yet I notice when he does have an opportunity to see a family member all he does is complain!  My poor niece was bombarded with trivial nonsense that was triggered when my father saw her!

My father has so many complex and convoluted issues that even he can't keep up with his own feelings.  Just the other day he said to me, "What is my eldest daughter's name?  However, ask him what his beef is with his eldest daughter, and he can't spit it out fast enough!  He remembers every dime he has given to people, and every fight or disagreement.  But ask him if he enjoyed the movie, he saw last night and he'll ask, "what movie?  We went to the movies last night?"

I love my family.  I know dad loves them as well.  Now if I can only get him to remember that the next time a family member visits.

The Greatest Day of All

Saturday May 29, 2010
144 days since accident
121 days in Colorado

It was a beautiful day today - the sun was shining, the temperature was mild, about 75 degrees, and my husband decided to wash our cars and his motorcycles. Dad heard all the noise outside and decided to sit on the front porch and watch Larry work.

I really don't know how it happened because I was not outside, but my father ended up on the back of Larry's Harley. Yes, you heard that correctly - my almost-90-year-old father was on the back of a motorcycle cruising around the neighborhood.

At first, I was shocked and speechless. Did my husband go mad? What possessed him to take such a risk? And darn it, why didn't he get pictures and video of the experience?

Look, of course I was freaking out at first, dad can barely walk, and here he is on the back of a motorcycle? Bottom-line, I trust my husband. If he felt it was safe than I am fine with it. I want my dad to have as many new experiences as he can tolerate.

At nearly 90, dad has barely lived at all. I don't know if this is due to the guilt he has over surviving the Holocaust, while his family did not. I suspect guilt was partly to blame, but I also think dad never had anyone in his life to expose him to different experiences. It also didn’t help that my father was, and still is, one of the cheapest men on the planet!

Ok,I really shouldn't be so hard on him - Dad was poor growing up and equally poor when he came to the U.S. Making $75.00 per week, dad worked as a tailor, in a sweatshop on Manhattan's lower eastside; mom didn't work; she was a homemaker and mother of four girls.

Even when dad had extra money, he never used it on himself. I think he was always afraid that he would need the money for a rainy day. I, on the other hand, believe that life is something to experience and not observe. And that is exactly what I plan to have my father do - I want him to be an active participant, and not some old guy sitting on a park bench watching the world go by.

During the last four months we have tried to make dad as comfortable and happy as can be. So far, he has enjoyed the comfort of modern clothing*, proper fitting shoes, cotton socks, and soft bedding. Dad has experienced IMAX, a 3D movie, bowling, the Body World exhibit, Planetarium, dinner playhouse, concert, and countless culinary experiences.

I hope my father remains healthy long enough for my family to show him what it feels like to be part of a close, fun-loving, great family, who loves him. Everyone needs love, even dads who were not the greatest fathers in the world.

I am so grateful to have had this opportunity to get to know my father because now I can finally let go of all the pain, anger, and resentment of my childhood.




*recall in a much earlier post that dad used to hand wash all his clothing using a washboard! His clothing was about 40 years old and so thin that they actually fell apart in the washing machine, in my house.

Finding the Humor in Life

Friday May 28, 2010
143 days since accident
120 days in Colorado

Today the temperature hit 97.5 degrees! My father comes out of his bedroom wearing an undershirt, a long sleeve shirt over that, and then long pants with heavy knee-hi socks. I took one look at him, and like a mother sending her child back to her room to put something more appropriate on, I escorted him back to his closet to find something lighter to put on.

How should I put this? My father dresses as if he just got off the boat at Ellis Island back in 1949! When I was a child, I used to get so embarrassed when he would attend a school function. Remember the leisure suit of the 1970's? Well dad had one in lime green. He also wore bold striped pants with an equally loud (clash) shirt.

One of the first things I did when dad moved to Colorado was to take him clothing shopping. You should have seen him today! He had on a pair of dark green walking shorts a pleasant and smart looking green and blue print polo shirt and we finished it off with a pair of TEVA sandals (and no sox!)

My father looked like a younger man of 65 (remember he is nearing 90!). We drove the kids to the local family fun center for a day of laser tag, miniature golf, bumper cars, and the like and topped it off with ice-cream sundaes at Baskin & Robbins! All had a fun day!

After dinner, I figured dad would be exhausted, since he was up for the entire day. However, he wanted to watch a little television. Joey put on a movie for him and I went upstairs to finish some last minute paperwork. About fifteen minutes later, I hear dad calling my name. Joey, ran downstairs (he is faster than I am) to check on his grandfather.

A few minutes later Joey comes upstairs with a huge grin on his face. This conversation transpired between Joey(J) and his grandfather(GF):

J: Is everything ok, grandpa? Do you need something?
GF: There is a German picture on television!
J: Is that good or bad?
GF: I don't know.
J: (sitting on a chair watching the program for a few minutes) So what do you think grandpa?
GF: This is Ausweitz, where I was in the Holocaust. I thought your mother would like to come down and see this maybe we will see me there.
J: (confused for a moment and he then realized that his grandfather thinks that the movie is a documentary and that the people were real and not portrayed by actors). Grandpa, make sure you call mom or me, if you happen to see yourself or someone you remember from that time!
GF: Ok!

Oh the joys of being old and hmmm, confused?

The Dentures Last Bite

Friday May 7 2010
122 days since accident
99 days in Colorado

It has been three months since dad received his dentures and I finally got up the nerve to request a refund. It was obvious to me that the dentist was not going to claim defeat, and my dad, although he constantly complained about the dentures while at home, would become indecisive while at the dentist office.

Upon arrival, the receptionist immediately took dad to one of the patient rooms. I was surprised because I thought they would just hand dad his refund check and send us on our way. Instead, the dentist came in and asked dad what he wanted to do about the dentures. Dad looked up at the dentist and said, “I don’t know what I want myself.” Not very good at concealing my emotions, I must have shot my dad a dirty look because he sat up in the chair and said, “It is my mouth, you stay out of it!”

Maybe I was wrong to get so upset, but I confronted both the dentist and dad. I told the dentist that he should have instructed dad weeks ago, that he would not do any further adjustments until dad agreed to wear the dentures, as instructed, for a full week. I then turned to dad and said he should not agree to wear the dentures when he knows that he won’t (wear them).

Dad looked at the dentist and said he would promise to wear the dentures for a full week and wanted to give it one more chance. In agreement, the dentist wanted dad for a couple of hours to try a different approach to reducing the movement and placement of the appliances. I really didn’t have two hours to sit in the waiting room and asked if I could leave dad while I ran a couple of errands and picked up the kids at school.

I received a telephone call about two hours later – evidentially, the dentist tightened the bottom partial too much and when he pushed it down onto dad’s two remaining teeth, it hit a nerve or something and my dad cried out in horrific pain. He closed his mouth and refused to allow the dentist to do anything further. The dentist actually wanted me to come back and convince dad to open his mouth; when I arrived my dad was waiting for me and told me he was done with this dentist and the dentures. I signed the release papers, gathered up dad and his belongings, and high-tailed it out of there!

My father was furious not at himself, but at me for not standing up to the dentist, and refused to speak to me for the rest of the day. Two days later, he announced that his bottom tooth was cracked and he wanted me to call the dentist to pull the tooth! I must have called three or four dentists and each one was more expensive than the last. Embarrassed, I had no choice but to call the original dentist, the receptionist was very kind and explained that they would not be able to do the extraction because the teeth in question are canines. Generally, canines are the last to fall out and in dad’s case; they were anchored well into the bone requiring surgery to remove. Fortunately, they had a referral of an oral surgeon and gave me dad’s x-rays, and I was able to make an appointment for next Friday.

Video: Bowling Grandpa get a Spare!

In this video you will see my husband showing dad how to bowl (at 89, dad has never gone bowling. Dad throws the ball and knocks down 9 pins. I stopped video-taping assuming dad would get a gutter-ball - with everyone in amazement, dad actually makes the spare!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8s_HkaER5Z4

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!

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.

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.