day 20

Today my niece received an email from M
M was my student in the Czech republic.
Last year I'd begun an email pal program.
M and my niece are probably the last remaining email partners who continue to write each other.
My niece read me the note... and within it M said that she hoped I was well
and
Was I still in America?

I know that I am doing the right thing.
In some ways it is easy
and I am going back to school which I am very happy about...

But in another way... I really miss the Czech Republic and my life there.
I think Bubble does too.
there were so many parks in my city
and in most you can just let your dog roam free
There was freedom for me as well...

I've given up so much to do this
What am I changing in my life
What will my life be in the future?

M... I hope you are well too
I hope the C.R. is doing well

I hope this isnt the end for me

day 19 Evil hours

My sister and nieces visited today.
They bestow on me a gift of freedom!

Young niece wanted to feed grandpa and older niece wanted to talk with him.
All progressed nicely until about 4PM. 4PM is 7 hours after happy pill and 1 hour before happy pill. This is a bad time... an hour of the day which should have a bright neon sign reading BEWARE or CAUTION or DO NOT ENTER
In this hour he always decides he wants to get up and go... guess where?
You're right!
He wants to go to the bathroom... but of course since he can't walk...
he can't get up...
and hence..
he can't "go" to the bathroom.
After we take care of this problem (which usually involves some yelling... something like this:

Dad: Don't do that!"
Me: We have to take your pants off if you want to go to the bathroom."
Dad: Leave me alone!
Me: Do you have to go to the bathroom?"
Dad: Yes. I do.
Me: Then we have to take your pants off
Dad: Don't do that....

The kitchen is converted into a bathroom... my mom and I help him to stand (which he can do quite well now when he wants to and when he doesn't I have to hold his 180 pounds up...
Dad and I stand by the sink... mom takes the chair away... pulls down dad's pants... moves the portable toilet into position and then helps me to sit dad down...
all the while my dad is yelling that he can't do it (but the angrier he gets the more his own legs support him)
I am holding most of his weight saying "get the chair mom" like that moment in YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN when Gene Wilder is wedged in the revolving bookcase and mutters "Put the CANDLE back"
While dad sits on the toilet he is desperate and sometimes crying or yelling in pain.
Then its the whole thing all over again except in the opposite direction)

After the "bathroom horror show" There is the "Depressed hour" which involves dad telling everyone... including his 12 and 10 year old granddaughters... that he wants to die.

Then finally he takes another happy pill...
and 20 minutes later...
he is peaceful

This really sucks... this really is not easy... to watch him... to see him live a life... no to see him forced to exist in this way.
Sometimes (and if any of my family is reading this I apologize... I am only human and want to write down... document the truths of my experience)
sometimes... I think... what if I fed him too much food to quickly?
maybe he would choke?
would that be what he wanted? what he wants?
What if I became confused and gave him too many pills?
would that be what he wants?
What if I leave something dangerous... a knife... a gun.... poison in his reach
would he have enough conscious to see it
to know it
to use it?

What is my true role as his son? If my father says "kill me"
MY FATHER... do you understand?
if he asks me to do this?
what rules do I follow
society's? Do not kill him... keep him safe... keep feeding him happy pills
Dad's? Find a way to end it...
Mine? I don't even know what my wish truly is...

day 18

It's amazing how one day off can

heighten

the anxiety and difficulties of the next day on.

Thursday Tay was here. From wake up at 8AM to bed at 8PM she took care of everything. I was able to focus on my course... take a bath and read... eat when I was hungry... oh and sleep until 1030AM.
Today... no Tay... I woke up late... Dad punched and kicked... I broiled with anger... I forgot to do things... I couldn't study or produce any work... i was angry.

By about 4PM things began to calm down.
And although it ended a half horrible day
I really see...
it's actually better

It's not easy... but who wants easy?
Maybe if I had more time to devote to my course... i wouldn't devote so much time to my course?
Perhaps the true way to remain productive is to put yourself into a situation where you only have a little free time to be productive in because then I think... you make it productive.

What else can I write about? i don't want to be boring. I feel I should be telling yo more about the experience of caring for my father... but from diaper to diaper it doesn't change much.

Bubble became ill this night. She must have eaten something outside and she vomited about 8 times so far. I became frantic for her ... at the same time my mother called from the other room "KEVIN! your FATHER!"... because he was falling out of his chair... every time I repositioned him... the dog would then get sick again and it felt like every time I went to help Bubble... my father would begin to slide from his chair.

day 17

Too much schoolwork

Tanya is a new helper who we hired.
She ame today to watch Dad... she was fantastic
I spent the whole day working for my class
and forgot to blog! More tomorrow....

day 16

A strange thing happened to me this week.
Tuesday was the first day of my class.
A woman from the University called me and was working with me to show me how the online classroom was structured.
In doing so I began to feel strange... couldn't tell why.
Then she told me where the reading material was to be found. I looked and saw this:

Readings

Read Appendix A, the Glossary, & “Invitation to the Writer” in Imaginative Writing.
Read Ch. 1 & 6 of the text.
Read “Black Hair” by Gary Soto in the text.
Read “The Hawk in the Rain” by Ted Hughes in the text.
Read “Kong Looks Back on His Tryout with the Bears” by William Trowbridge in the text.
Read “Father” by Hilda Raz in the text.
Read “Story” by Lydia Davis in the text.
Read “The Language of Bees” by Barbara Hamby in the text.


Hey this isn't fiction before 1800!
and the woman said... "oh. You are right. It's not."
An error had occurred and somehow I was placed into the wrong class... ADVANCED creative writing.
EEEK
she told me she would fix it... but I thought for a moment and told her no. It is an upper level English course and it's credits advance me toward my goal. I will begin the Lit class in Nov... I thought... it's easier too!

Boy was I wrong. I have been doing nothing but reading... responding to questions and comments... taking notes... and caring for my father for 2 days. It is A LOT of work... But it i also good for me. It is forcing me to write... forcing me to come to terms with literary terms. Forcing me to understand the process of writing instead of just casually writing on my own.

i was inspired by something I read... I am not a poet but there was a small assignment to write a poem using.... how can I explain... they are metaphors but... ok


well here is what I wrote:


The plants my father planted grow
these are rhododendrums, daffodils, azaleas
the seeds within my fathers mind rot
these are memories and bits of knowledge
falling from him like autumn leaves
in their place rough brown branches remain
no bud-bringing spring will come
soon or late the branches will wither as well
and the bare trunk may stand
for a time
but after some catastrophe
an eastern storm with tremendous gales
a quake to shake the roots from their place
or even just years of insects and microbes eating it away
the trunk too will no longer remain
become a dust
to start a hill or a child or a new tree again

day 15 fun things

One of the most enjoyable parts of my day has become the "Hoyer Lifting"
this is a Hoyer Lift:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/ae/Hoyer_lift_rear.JPG

At first its an impossible contraption seemingly extremely dangerous and way to big to put in a bedroom.
However once you learn how to use it... it becomes
a fun experience for both the lifter and the liftee and way to big to put in a bedroom.
My dad loves it.

After breakfast (and a short nap which usually begins sometime during breakfast)
I maneuver dad so that he is lying properly atop the sling.
This is a piece of fabric shaped like a big I. The top of the I lays under his shoulders and the bottom beneath his knees.

Then two sets of chains are attached to both sides of the sling and then to the "hanger" hanging from the lift.

I then have to pump the handle and (here's the fun part)
Dad rises into the air... the sling becomes a seat and I roll the lift. My dad floats over the bed... and gently alights upon his wheelchair.

Not one complaint! In fact he loves it... has a lot of fun in the air. My mom and me are the nervous ones.

While being lifted today... he kept stretching out his feet and trying to tickle me with his toes... and after being placed on the chair he kissed my mom 4 times in rapid succession.

You see... there are some hidden joys here!

I began my first on line course today... Ill describe it more when I understand it better!

day 14 Strange Dreams

I woke in the night
during a dream

I told myself
'remember'...
"this dream'
'write'
'this dream'

today... I no longer remember the dream well
my father was there
lying in his bed
and I
I stood over him
this is a position although fairly new in life
now so well rehearsed it feels old
when we take our positions

In the dream
my father cried
deep passionate sobs
came from his soul
I stood above him
doing nothing
there was nothing I could do
only stand and watch
as the tears left him
he shrunk
becoming smaller and smaller
until he disappeared
and all I could do
was watch


Not such a subtle dream... huh?

I woke today feeling sick and very
deeply
tired

I gave my father his medication
a nurse came to wash him
and feed him breakfast

I took a hot bath
in the dark
and considered my dream

we all shed things as we move along
the past falls off us
as the future's wind blows
into us
we change
we grow or shrink
but there is always a thread
sometimes strong thick durable
sometimes thin breakable

my fathers thread has been shredded
the pieces of it
on the floor
some small
others long
but all just pieces... fragments

2 weeks

Dad is sleeping
its 2pm
he ate breakfast and then fell asleep again.
Not surprising since he calls out... screams... laughs... babbles... jitters and bangs all through the night.
I wake up at almost every disturbance so I don't sleep well
and when the day begins he falls asleep!
It is almost not fair...

I have pasted the course description for my class which begins on Tuesday...
I know it sounds boring! BUT... If I wanna teach it... I have to know it...
I am okay with the Chaucer and the Shakespeare and even the Pope, Defoe and Swift
but the rest! ugh

A little note on my dog Bubble.
She's part of the blog but I haven't really mentioned her much.
She seems to have adapted well to NJ.
She loves my Mom. Every night I can find her stretched out on the couch sleeping next to my Mom who is also stretched out on the couch sleeping. (would be symmetrical however Bubble doesn't snore!)
Her new loves are deer and wild turkey.
And of course she's still wild about squirrels.
NJ squirrels are nasty. They ignore dogs... wait for them to go crazy... run... and get inches away before they swiftly (but casually) zip up a tree... leaving a frustrated dog trying to climb or jump up the trunk. Then... (again casually... almost bored) they begin to chirp... really infuriating the dog who keeps trying with muscle and will to surge upward and kill.

ENG493 English Literature to 1800

Course Description
This course will survey major authors, ideologies, and historical contexts of English literature from medieval times until the 18th century. A diverse range of works, genres, movements, and cultural narratives will be explored.
Topics and Objectives
The Early Middle Ages
Identify the major authors and works.
Describe the literary trends and movements.
Examine how political, social, cultural, and philosophical changes in Europe influenced literature.
Middle English Literature
Identify the major authors and works.
Describe the literary trends and movements.
Examine how political, social, cultural, and philosophical changes in Europe influenced literature.
The 16th Century
Identify the major authors and works.
Describe the literary trends and movements.
Examine how political, social, cultural, and philosophical changes in Europe influenced literature.
The Early 17th Century
Identify the major authors and works.
Describe the literary trends and movements.
Examine how political, social, cultural, and philosophical changes in Europe influenced literature.
The Restoration and the 18th Century
Identify the major authors and works.
Describe the literary trends and movements.
Examine how political, social, cultural, and philosophical changes in Europe influenced literature.

day 13

My back hurts

today we hired someone who will start working for us every Thursday.
She'll come at 8 am
and work to 8 pm
She's a pro
worked with my Dad at the facility he left
she does it all
and well
she lives 5 minutes away (which is surprising... as you may know... if you've actually been as close to nothing as we are)

She visited us today and my Dad looked up at her, smiled.. and said
"Hi... Mom."
very interesting since she is a 30 year old black woman.
And my father is German white with Irish red hair...

I can't wait until next Thursday

2 updates
I have chosen English Lit to 1890
I decided I needed to brush up on lit in general before I start getting specific
In three weeks Ill be taking a second course
at which time Ill probably choose
African American Lit
or
American Bio

AND

I went o see Hereafter yesterday

It didn't suck
and it was a night out of my house which I really needed
but
it did disappoint me
to empty... to unbelievable
this was sooo.... Harry Potter
like so obvious magic that its not really magical

Day 12 Success!

After
many teaspoons of milk of magnesia
several liters of warm prune juice
another several liters of warm apple juice
constant sessions
on the toilet
hours of stomach massaging (by mom and me while he is ON the toilet)
sprinkles of bran flakes on almost all meals
broccoli
baked beans
dried prunes (or.. is it just prunes... because prunes are dried plums)
and
a LOT of pain... swearing... tears... yearning

Dad has had a successful bowel movement!
It's amazing how something like this
can feel
in this situation
as astounding
as overwhelming
as graduating university
or
climbing Mount Everest

I am serious
after it
I was sitting on the floor...
(its not easy... the lifting and the attention... the previously stated rubbing of the stomach... the listening to him complain and cry... the constant explanation that he is ON the toilet NOW and he can go NOW... the making certain that he doesn't try to get up... you'd be on the floor too)
I began to cry
really cry
tears and everything
for a bowel movement... it's crazy

Right now... as I write... trying to get this done before midnight... Dad talks to himself... he's having a sort of conversation with... someone? ... maybe God?

"What do you want me to do?"
he asks
"Huh?"
"Who wants to do it?"
sigh... sigh... sigh
"YO!"
"I don't know"

I hope there is a whole fantasy world in there
I hope he sees vivd colors and flying lights
I hope even the pain and the fear that seems inherent in his words
are passionately felt
I hope that although in our world he has this disease
that in his world
he truly lives

and I hope that his bowels
remain constant

october 21st Day 11 changing personalities

There are only 5 minutes until the end of the day
est

I am really tired... again

the thing that struck me today
that I don't have enough time to explain well

is the changes in personality my father goes through
in a day

he starts out nasty
grumpy
mean

he becomes fearful
screams in pain when touched by a feather

he gets confused
muttering
and not understanding anything

he becomes anxious
feel the need to get up and move around
lashing out his arms and legs
trying to touch things with his toes

he gets quiet
and thoughtful?

and then he turns sweet
sings
laughs
makes meaningless jokes
with
excellent delivery
so they are funny anyway

that's my dad in a fday

october 20th Day 10 exhaust and utter exhaustion

Today an LPN came to the house and did 2 things
the first she told me
that
unfortunately
this disease
causes patients to become upset
lash out
kick
yell
The only way to stop it
is to keep
giving him his happy meds
I'd been trying to use them
only when it was impossible not to
The LPN said
use them every day every 8 hours
that's the reason for them
so now I have found something
which may make
the rest of the day easier
but may keep my dad
a little less aware

The 2nd thing she did was to unimpact him
this mean she went inside his anal tract
with her finger
and helped some
feces to come out.

he hated this
I mean... who wouldn't

but she did it.
She was SUPER NURSE
and although this was great
and he's been better all day

I am exhausted

When I was 30 years old
I did a 3 month tour of a show
every morning we woke up early
went to a school
set up the lights, set, costumes... etc
did our show
took down the lights, set... etc
drove to another school
repeated our actions there
then drove about a hundred miles to another town
checked in to a hotel
went to sleep
then woke up the next day and did it all again

after about 5 weeks of it
i remember
i felt more tired than
i had ever felt before

now I am tireder than that

october 19th Day 9 constipation

3 days with no bowel success
3 days of warm apple juice
milk of magnesia
stomach rubs

3 days of excruciating moments
while Dad sits on the pot
screaming that he has to go to the bathroom
but refuses to go
all he wants is to get up
to go to the bathroom
but that's where he is.

I have tried everything that every nurse has suggested.
Today I even gave him more
medicine for it...
he will probably explode tonight
but at least it will be over for a few days

I have decided that tonight
after he gets put in bed (he's been sleeping all day so I am sure he'll be up all night)
I am going to a movie

What should I see?

October 18th Day 9 Mom and Me

one of my very first memories (I was 3 years old)
my Mom sat me down on the hood of our green and brown station wagon (it had a pop-up seat in the wagon for 2 kids... the kind of seat that faces the rear window so you could watch all the places you've already passed receding into the distance... it was cool). I remember we were playing a simple rhyming game.
She said
"bed"
I said
"red!"
she said
"mat"
I said
"cat!"

you get it?

we all do these things... most of us probably have memories like that. As warm as the hood of the station wagon after baking in the sun for a few hours...

That's love I think... and when I think it... that's love too

so there we are
mom and me
warmed by the sun and the love
and that's how we've stayed
hardly ever a fight
hardly an angry word
mostly smiles
and laughter
and doing things together


well... there was that time
I had stopped going to church with her
and she was upset with me
and one day (I ... did you ever see the film... through a glass darkly by Bergman... I was that boy... at that time)
I said to her
"Can you really believe in some guy
up there
waiting for us to die
and then letting us sit around on a cloud
forever with no problems
everything okay
that's not true.'
and she became very angry with me (maybe the first time ever) and she said
"I know it Kevin. But that's not why I go to church."

and that was it....

we sulked separately
and then hugged each other

well... now we've reached a new obstacle
working together (or trying to work together)
to take care of my father is proving to be
one of the most painful and difficult experiences for the two of us
and our relationship.

dealing with this man who is my father
her husband
is difficult enough
but dealing with each other?

We have never been so angry as we are now
never yelled so much
never became so frustrated and walked away so many times because we just couldn't handle the situation.

I hope it makes us stronger
I refuse to let it destroy us
I still love her as much
as that day in the driveway
with the sun on the green hood
in 1971

october 17th Day 8 Uncle Charlie

I sat in my father's room
for one hour
I was watching him
and he
only noticing me every so often
continually tried to get out of his hospital bed

It looked almost like a buster keaton skit

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2K9ZeBe-HA

It would be funny
if it weren't my Dad
weren't happening in our house

Tonight... as he tries to unbed himself (It is... listening to it... almost as noble and impossible of an undertaking as Frodo's journey with the ring) he calls out for his cousin Charlie.

"Charlie!" he keeps yelling. "Charlie!"

His feet constantly looking for a way through the metal guards on the sides of the bed.

"No. I can't... can't do it... oh no... no... HELP... Charlie! CHARLIE!... how do you do this... oh no... this is terrible... oh I just want to choke.... please... pleeeease.... dear god.... Charlie! What? how do I? ... where is he? Who? (bang bang bang his hand rattles the metal guard bang bang bang) can't get up.... I have to go to the bathroom.... can't... I just want to die...."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Just to clarify
he says, "I have to go to the bathroom." and when we take him there....
he doesn't go
he tries to stand up
he wants to get off the toilet...
I make him stay there for 10 ... 15 minutes...
nothing
So we bring him back to bed... or his chair... and he says...
a half hour later
"I have to go to the bathroom

It is now 7:12 pm
he has been doing this since about 3:45

obviously he doesn't have to go to the bathroom as bad as he says

He wears a diaper
we tried a bed pan...
nothing appeases him
nothing makes him stop

I must sit here and write these words as I SIT HERE AND LISTEN TO HIM

"Hey! (whistles) hey! I have to go to the bathroom..."
over and over....
over and over...
over and over...


XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


When he actually does go to the bathroom
in his diaper
it is a .... relief
I can clean him
call it sick
but
i love to clean him....
I don't care how smelly
how black and smearing and thick or juicy or horribly splattered or runny and loose it is
if it is on his legs and back and penis
if it is (and has been on occasion) on his hands and face
inside his nails
On the sheets... the mattress cover
the wall
the floor
my arms
my favorite orange Old Navy sweatshirt
I DON'T CARE
I just want to clean it up
when its cleaned he.... stops
he closes his eyes
he sleeps

october 16th Day 7 not knowing

How many times do you take someone to the toilet
(actually lift him from a chair and onto a toilet)
when he say's "I have to go to the bathroom"
when he never goes to the bathroom
on the toilet?

If it was simple.... comfortable
I would put him on the toilet every time he asked.
If he were like... bubble sized
there would be no problem

but he ways 180 pounds
and often tries to hit me
when I am helplifting him up

and then while sitting on the toilet
and saying
"I have to go to the bathroom"
again and again and again
but not going to the bathroom
(18 minutes last time)
and at the same time
complaining about how uncomfortable it is
and trying to stand up on his own

Do you just let him wait
until he goes to the toilet in his diapers?

Do you attempt every time to sit him on the pot

do you maybe ... like the lottery... choose the moments when he would most likely succeed
when you think its the luckiest time?


What do you do!!!!

october 15th Day 6 Dark Angels

Playing monopoly with my nieces
while my father stared into the darkness of his room
occasionally calling out
or having a conversation with no one
or crying

It was late
dark
and hearts were dark too
a sort of morose feeling swept over the house

as the dice rolled
I began to feel flashback
to days in University
when I smoked marijuana
and time flattened out
time no longer linked itself in seconds
but one moment joined another
2 hours further into the night
segments came and went and connections made these bridges across the darkness

That's how the game felt to me
I was highly aware of every move
but not with my focus
but with the peripheral vision of my mind

at the same time
I was connected to my father
and the fear that he would call out in need
and that I'd have to answer the call

and a deep exhaustion lay on me

last night was terrible
from 4am onward
my father experienced horrible things
so horrible that
when my mother and I tried to help him
he lashed out at us
a gentle hand on his shoulder
became the firey touch of a dark angel
our concerned looks
terrible angry leers
from hideous heavenly faces

our words of encouragement
seemed to him
acid spit from churning lungs

no matter what we did
turned to evil.

Im going to try to write tis better tomorrow.
I have to try again
because my nieces are going to sleep in the room with the computer

October 14th Day 5 4 nurses

NJ has a special system to help families
who are in our situation
This "help" consists of
4 (all of which are nurses subbing for other nurses all of which who will not be here next time) nurses
who arrive(all at different times and twice blocking each other in the driveway)
all of which who ask all the same questions
have various (sometimes conflicting) advice to give
and spend very little time with the patient at all.
One of the nurses was so patronizing...
I asked her about getting dad a swallowing test
"Does he aspirate?"
She said this with a sort of clipped diction... like a "i am using a medical word"
I looked at her confused and said
"I don't really know what you mean."
"It's simple. If he is aspirating than he probably can't have a swallow test...."
I thought... NO. What does aspirate mean. I was an actor... and yes, an english teacher... but never in the health field.
so when she left I looked aspirate up


http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/aspirate

I should have told her (and would have if I'd known. "Oh yes, he aspirates every time he says h elp me!

a sort of social worker today told us all we already knew and told us even more ...
while she told us more I was trying to tell her that we'd already been to a lawyer and a health advocate and we'd already looked into all the programs that she'd mentioned and most could not help us... but she wouldn't let me. She continued to speak and say a whole lot of needless words.

There was a home health aid who came. She was supposed to be here for 2 hours but stayed only an hour after my father spit at her twice.

"Oh no no no... I don't get spat at. I'm sorry but I just don't get spat at" and then she left.

This world is crazy... these jobs are crazy... I mean these women actually get paid. They exhausted me more than my father has...

He was a devil today too. He spat at me several times... kicked and punched me... wouldn't let me clean or change him
My back hurts... my inner kevin hurts
I cried and yelled at my mother
I don't think Im even writing well anymore
i am lost
and it's only been 5 days

October 13th Day 4

Could you imagine not having a bowel movement for four days?
Do you think maybe you'd get really nasty...
refuse to eat...
throw food on the floor
say "No!" and cry like a baby
stay awake all night and sleep all morning
try to punch your family members...

I think maybe yea... If Ive gone maybe even 24 hours without one
I may mimic some of the above mentioned personality traits...

Its amazing how my father has lost almost everything that was specifically him
but he retains everything that makes him human

October 12th Day 3

I am so tired.

I woke up this morning and I found myself alone in the house with my father.
He lay in his be and everything was wet from his urine (adult diapers are far from perfect things0
I cleaned him up and changed him
fed him breakfast
gave him medication and
got him into his chair

the morning glided by smoothly.

Lunch was pretty good as well...

but as the day progressed...

at one point this evening he punched me.
I reacted in a terrible way...
I grabbed his arms and folded them on his chest (I wasn't hurting him physically just not letting him punch me anymore)
but I also yelled
more like screamed
"don't you ever f**ing do that again."
he became very quiet...
stopped trying to hit me...
it felt awful... but actually worked. He calmed down.

Do you think it's wrong?
To use this sort of angry bullishness?
Does the end justify the means?

he hardly slept last night
didn't take any naps today
and now he is in his bed
in the dark
having a discussion
with ... who knows who

I am exhausted
i mean really
I was barely able to make food for myself today
I can't even do little things like walk my dog
or write this blog

without a feeling of...
anxiousness?

October 11th Day 2

I feel like my last 10 posts have been vapid and boring!

And here I am after the first full day of being with my father and my head is empty.
There was no time to think whether I would be good or bad
I just went from one thing to the next
medication
breakfast
dad has freak out session complete with punching and kicking and telling me that I am an ass... a son of a bitch... and a chicken (this one made me laugh)
more medication
get out of bed and into chair
visiting nurse arrives for an hour session with me giving me tips and instructions
lunch for dad
more medication
wheel dad into den to watch TV
talk to dad and make him feel comfortable (his mood changed about every 20 minutes... I am not kidding... he is happy and then I walk out of the room to get him some water and he looks at me and says "Who are you? you... idiot... get me out of here" then he starts to cry... then he talks about nothing... makes a joke... laughs.... I am taking care of about 30 different people.
Bubble meets dad (I kept her outside most of the morning (she kept trying to jump on his lap to lick his face
Dad needs the toilet
fight with a too narrow hallway and a too big chair (chair wins... scraping the wall and catching my foot between it and a door for about 5 minutes... dad chose this moment to have his "you are trying to kill me!" personality running.
Put dad on the toilet (horrible experience)
Make dinner for dad
feed dad
more medication
TV room again
Dad needs toilet again
put dad on toilet (much better experience although at neither session did dad actually produce anything)
Put dad in bed
more medication
clean dad up for the night
More medication! (I swear ... there are 12 pills he takes (some of them 2 or 3 times daily)
Dad goes to sleep (but I actually still can hear him now. He's woken up and is having a conversation with the radio.

October 10th 2010 Day 1

We went to meet the transportation service at the care facility.
They would be in charge of transporting Dad home.
We got there an hour early so that we could clean out his room... retrieve his medication... say goodbye... etc.
To our surprise... no one at the facility knew he was leaving today.
I had to nice-fight with the head nurse to get his meds.
She actually told me that I had to come back monday to get them... however half of them are pills he is supposed to take at night which means he would miss an evening worth of pills
I nice-freaked and she backed down... we have his medicine.

He is MUCH better at home. My sister stopped by and he knew all three of us... had nothing but smiles on his face... ate his dinner... talked a lot (some of it not babbling!) and is now sleeping and snoring
I can hear his heavy breathing coming from the bedroom next to mine.

harder than I expected:
a. lifting him out of his chair into his bed
b. making him comfortable in his chair
c. remembering the order of things to make my life easier (i was constantly repeating steps because I would... for example (that's for all my Czech students) put his pants on without putting on a diaper first... or turn out the lights and let him fall asleep before giving him his medicine.
But Dad was a trooper... he accepted my idiocy without complaint.

I really think he knows that he is home
and
I think he's happy about it
inexperienced son or no

The Night Before

Things have finally fallen into place.
There is a hospital bed waiting quietly in my Dad's room.
There is something called a Hoyer lift taking up space in the living room.
(Its a big medal thing on wheels with a sling. You wrap the sling around the patient... attach it to the lift... crank the lift... and it raises the patient out of the bed and onto a chair... sort of like those games you can play at the boardwalk when you try to push the buttons and use a crane to catch an MP3 player or a stuffed moose and move it to the dispenser to win a prize... although the Hoyer lift is much safer...)
There are 2 wheel chairs as well... a common one and a reclining one.
We have bed pads (pieces of sturdy fabric which lie on the bed... you can use them to turn the patient to the right or the left... or to slide the patient further up the bed)
there are mouth swabs to clean his mouth
several creams and ointments for his skin
a new set of wash clothes for cleaning up
and even
some leftover pasta from tonights meal that we plan to puree and serve to my dad
tomorrow.
He arrives tomorrow at about 4pm
After tomorrow I plan on posting every day however
the posts may be quite short.
The real reason for the blog begins tomorrow.

I feel strange... there has been so much limbo
so many delays
I have almost no feeling about it

I know my life will change
and I know that I can't really predict
how it will go

I hope I can do it

delay decay

Maybe you've noticed that I haven't written for a few days.
Maybe not... dont really know how many people are reading this.
Doesn't matter.
I think there are several reasons for my blogneglect
bloglect
1 is a rediscovery of the 14 cycles of America's Next Top Model with Tyra Banks
It's ridiculous but I can't stop watching.
Elyse from season 1 enthralled me
now I am hooked on season 2
I feel this is relevant to my blog because
its part of something called
reverse culture shock.
since returning to the US
and not having much to do (but actually being exhausted by what I have been doing... I'll explain in a moment)
has made me vulnerable to
the HUGE
culture machine of the United States
sometimes I find myself sitting next to my mother
watching Dr Phil Tuesdays
when he talks to 7 women
who have problems with their relationships
I think... this is stupid... vapid... waste of time... and then the credits appear
and another program comes on.

all of this is happening because
bum bum bummmmm
my father has not yet returned home.
Which may be another reason that I haven't written a blog
because I am slightly embarrassed.
The problem is insurance companies
lost faxes
Doctors facing fraud charges
and so on and son on
like that shampoo commercial where the girls
go through mitosis
until finally there re about 100 faces on the screen saying
and they tell two friends... and they tell two friends... and so on and so on and so on...
That is the mitosis of problems we have been experiencing here.
I really want my dad to come home
and I want to start this
but in this delay
I am sort of.... decaying