day 40

Dad is sitting in the wheelchair
mom stands behind him
I am in front of him
the toilet is on my left
I am getting ready to help him stand
and then Mom will remove his pants
I will turn with him
and sit him on the toilet

sounds simple, right?

Dad... sit up
yeah okay I
Dad sit up

and he doesn't. He holds his arms tightly to his sides like ice impacted car door
you pull and pull but
you can't separate it

so I have to force my arm under his
and around to his back
I have to sit him up myself
with my mother pushing him from behind
all the time he is using his feet
pushing against the floor
trying to lock himself in the chair
and doing a pretty good job

we pry him away from the chairs back
my fingers inching along
my arms sqeezing through
then when I feel I have a good enough hold
I calmly say
"Okay Dad. Now we are going to stand up"
"NO!"
1
NO!
2
DONT
3
and its like an ambush
I suddenly use all my strength and hike him up
he screams
his legs (which can stand)
limply hang.
I am holding him like a set of weights
which I cant lift properly
he is almost on the floor
the inches of which I would have to turn him if he were standing
become miles as i DRAG him
arms flailing
legs limp
in the meantime my mom is trying to pull down his pants
she cant
she's on the floor herself
pulling at him
making it heavier
because with his body
he's fighting her too
NOooOOooooOOOOOoOooo
sounds like he's dying... like we are raping him... like he's Captain Kirk and an alien race is taking his soul from his body.
finally the pants are down
I then have to
with I swear the last little bit of strength I have
heist him up like a sack
and slap him on the toilet seat.
In which he screams more
then he sits there
40 minutes today
occaisionally in pain
Is he trying to go?
does the seat feel cold?
Is the back of the toilet digging into his shoulder?

we don't know
40 minutes later we lift him
there is nothing there
nothing
after days of miracle laxatives
stool softeners
prune juice

nothing

then we have to repeat the process backwords
this time he is more prepared
and as we go he uses his body weight
to try and fling himself away from me
you know like when a little child runs to you
you catch him with your arms
and then the kid throws his weight backwards
and tries to swing
well dad is 180 pounds

As I put him into the chair
pain rolling up and down my back
my heart racing
my food ready to be vomitted
dissyness
he says
"I don't want YOU" and hits me
I gave him my middle finger
right in his face
and I said
"FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. I don't want you either!"
and I left him there
with my mother
he was not in the chair properly
he was half off it
and it felt good that he was uncomfortable
I thought... he deserves to feel uncomfortable
my back was screaming at me
my head pounding
I lay down in his hospital bed
I took off my glasses
and I started to cry

in the words of Sally Field
Steel Magnolias 1989

"Why. why? WHY?!"