The sooner we get the hell out of here the better!
I was sitting here computering and I heard an alarm go off. It was hard to figure out where it was coming from. It almost sounded like it was coming from down the street. I went into the house but it wasn't ours. Then I headed next door. Bingo.
I could smell smoke as I approached Dad's back door. He was trying to make a phone call. I went in and opened his oven. He was heating up a bowl of food on the top rack using the broiler. I turned it off and then looked for the alarm. I didn't remember that Jim had installed one in the kitchen. I just remembered there was one in the hallway. Oh, man! Those alarms are omnipresent! You really can't tell where the sound is coming from. I finally found it on the wall above the phone. I had a hard time getting it off the wall and ended up knocking it off and sending the batteries flying. Cripes!
Dad kept trying to help. I had to keep telling him to stay away from the oven. He actually almost reached in to touch the heating element! He was trying to tell me what had happened and couldn't find the right word so he reached for the still-glowing element. Of course he acts like it's no big deal. I told him he shouldn't be using the oven. I just remembered, I should check his lower oven. Once we found cans of Coke stored in there.
His alarm is supposed to be connected to ours but it didn't go off this time. I'd better check our batteries.
When I went to his house his car lights were on. Talk about surreal. The car lights are on, there's an alarm screaming and I smell smoke. Cue the Psycho violins. Anyway, I don't know what's going on with the car. He said that Drew had been working on it. Maybe he's trying to run the battery down so Dad can't drive it. Now that the alarm was taken care of Dad turned his attention to the car.
I had had some lasagna for dinner so I came home and put some in a bowl for Dad. When I took it back over I took him into the bathroom for evening meds. I tried to get him to eat but he wanted to mess with the car. He called just now asking if I had keys. I lied and told him I didn't.
(A bit later. I just had a wonderful, long conversation with Michele.)
Dad called again and said he's giving up on the car. I guess he talked to Drew. Whew! I'm so glad we'll be finished with this soon. I've been getting more and more concerned about Dad living on his own. I think it's going to end at just the right time. He seems to be more willing to go along with the move, even though he gripes about being kept out of the loop. He'll have the right kind of care in the right kind of place. He'll eat better and he'll have more social interaction.
And, yes, it'll be better for me. We've been here for four and a half years. I never thought I'd be doing this! When we moved back here our plan was so different. I think we got Dad's AD diagnosis about 6 months after we got here. Everything changed then. We became caregivers. We were dealing with depression (mine and Jim's). We started a business that never went anywhere, partly because of Dad's situation. We just got so bogged down. Then things started to get better for a couple months. Then we lost Jim. This has been the weirdest fuckin' year of my life! The girls and I have been dealing with our loss and working on building this new life all while living next door to Dad, who has been losing his mind at an accelerated rate.
Another huge life change is looming. I hope this is it for a while. I'd like to cruise for a few years, ok?
16 comments:
Once you get into your own
house and can sit back in your rocking chair and go "PHUCKING PHEW!" you'll be all right. That's going to work out, it'll just take time.
KC was telling me last night how nice assisted living places are (compared to nursing homes, where she works), but that very few people can afford them. Your dad is lucky. He's got the money for that, and he's ambulatory so an assisted living will take him. I wonder if they have like, keys for the stove, or some way to block it so he can't turn it on. If there isn't a stove like that, we should invent it.
Maybe they just cook everything somewhere else and deliver it.
Man, you did live through a Stephen King novel last night, didn't you? Thank god for the smoke alarm that worked.
--dean
P.S. Four and a half years? It seems like only half that time.
--dean
I know. It's amazing how fast it's all gone by.
At first Dad will be in a small apartment with a kitchen. But he'll be getting his meals in the cafeteria so he'll have no reason to cook. Actually, I don't know how it all works. Maybe he won't have a kitchen. I hope he only has a kitchenette with a fridge and a microwave but no stove.
Puh, I'm getting a cold.
I can't remember, is the place you're having him go to, a Alzheimers assisted living place? Or is it just an assisted living place? He sounds like he needs to be in a special care unit now.
Dean, most of the assisted living places I've visited do not have stoves, they sometimes have refrigerator space but no stove. Everyone goes to a central dining room to eat all their meals. One place I went to had a stove/oven in a family type room where they had cooking "class" that was always supervised.
Donita, a new house is on the horizon, peaceful and quiet, it will be like cruise control!
We're probably going to put him in that new place just behind Our Lady. They have an Alzheimer's unit with a big ol' fence around it. He won't need that until he starts wandering. At first he can start off in one of their apartments.
Yes, I'm looking forward to that house and sitting back in my rocking chair. I want to paint the walls and putter around in my yard. Jim and I used to garden but I haven't done it here. We had ideas for what we wanted to do but Dad wouldn't let us touch anything. At the new house I can scratch around in the dirt and even rip stuff out if that's what I want to do.
At times during this last year I've felt like I've been trying to hang onto sanity. I've got one more big push before I can settle into that rocking chair.
I'd be prepared to see him start wandering as soon as he gets in there...simply because he's going to not understand this new place IS his home.
Something we didn't anticipate with the MIL. The draw to her "home" is still with her and unfortunately I don't think she ever feels where she is living is her home but someone elses home or facility. She still talks about going home and if she had the mobility I think she'd try and she's in her right mind.
Does this place have a daycare for assessment purposes? The reason I ask is if you find pretty quickly that he needs more help because of the strangeness of the new place (strangers coming into his apt, things being in different places, etc) you might end up having to move him a second time into the unit.
I think we all underestimate how the elderly react in totally new environments. Simply because their ability to analyse isn't what we're used to seeing.
vivage--well it makes a lot of sense not to give alzheimer's patients stoves. My co-worker has a place in mind for her dad that has a kitchenette, but he still has his wits, he just can't take care of his big house anymore. I suppose the amenities will be tailored to the circumstances.
I really don't think he's ready to be in the AD unit just yet. I think my sibs would agree with me on that one. If we have to move him twice then so be it. I think it'll be easier for him if he's able to be with people who are still pretty with it. If we throw him in right away with the AD people he'll know it and that would be devastating. We're trying to make this as easy for him as we possibly can. He can't live with the dribblers right off the bat. He'll think we've put him away.
And yes, more care will be needed as the disease progresses. They're totally set up for that.
And as far as wanting to go home, there won't be any home to go back to. This hill is going to be knocked down pronto.
I'm off to Michaels!
It's a good thing we're all so Gat dahmn well-adjusted!
Is our smoke detector even hooked up? Last I checked all that was on the ceiling was the plastic base for it.
Heh! Gee, I wonder where it is?
Ain't we the safety team?
The way you describe his decline soon he won't remember there isn't a home to go to.
And I'm not saying you should put him in with the dribblers, I'm saying you should have him assessed by more objective people in a strange setting.
And sheesh, the MIL thought/thinks everyone she lives with is a dribbler except her. She truly believes she does not have anything in common with those "old people". And no matter how much we tell her, she still thinks we've done this to her, not for her own welfare but for some other nefarious reason.
Well, I think David is pretty objective. But assessing him in a strange setting is a good point.
Wouldn't it be great if someone not connected with the family would sit Jean down and talk to her and tell her that her situation is largely her fault? That she'll NEVER be able to live in her own home on her own? That her kids are doing the best they can and she should be ashamed of the way she's treated them? Wouldn't you love to be within earshot if that happened? Sometimes I get pretty mad at her. Forgive me, I've had a big ol' glass of Agavero. Hey! I'll call her right now!
"Hey, Jean! This is Donita! Slush, slush, slur, slur..."
Hee, hee!
Did ya call her? LOL.
She's difficult because she's in denial and deep down wants the kids to have her live with them.
Overall, I think it's the loss of control that drives all of this behaviour and thats how and why she tries to manipulate to get some control.
Your dads situation is slightly different because he gets violent (whether it's verbal or physical) when he can't control either his kids or the situation because of his lack of cognative abilities. AND he's also in denial about his Alz. But what I do think will be the same is the unfamiliar setting will cause depression and stress and anxiety.
THe other thing I think is the same is the optimistic view we children of the elderly have of moving them from homes they've lived in for decades. We all thought she'd make an easier transition. It's been very, very difficult; my rose colored glasses about that are quite scratched up.
Oh I know this is going to be difficult for him. But he's losing it so fast that I don't think he'll fight it for long. It might even make things a little easier since here he's king of his castle. But no matter what, it's going to get pretty bad for him. Every once in a while I get glimpses into that future. Right now he still has mostly good days.
I think the contrast between our parental tyrants is so interesting. Our situations are so different but the affect is pretty much the same. You guys have the Parkinson's mom and we have the Alzheimer's dad. You guys are dealing with her stubborness and lack of mobility, we're dealing with a confused man who wigs out sometimes. Jean is almost deaf, Dad's hearing is perfect. Neither of them appreciates what their kids are going through to try to help them and look out for their best interests. Jeff and I used to joke about having them get together. Now that thought is pretty scary!
OMG, that would be enough to put us all in therapy.
In a lot of ways I'm lucky, my MIL isn't my mom so I don't have the same levels of guilt or child history with her. I mean I love her but she's never been a mother figure to me. Nor has she ever tried to be a mother figure to me, more like a friend or peer despite our age difference.
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