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
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Saturday, October 30, 2010
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...
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...
Friday, October 29, 2010
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.
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....
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....
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
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
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
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
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!
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!
Monday, October 25, 2010
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
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
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