Kicking Tires

 The past couple months have led to more decline despite a stable test score at the neurologist.  Hair washing is sporadic and dressing has become interesting.  My dad has started wearing 2 dress shirts at a time or a golf shirt over a dress shirt.  He had an awful reaction of some sort on his face so he had to stop shaving for 2 weeks.  Never in my life have I seen him go even a day without shaving but he wore it well! After 2 weeks the dermatologist gave the go ahead to shave but my dad was hesitant.  I think he wasn't sure what to do but he did figure it out.  At least I think he did; several of the "Blue Girls" have taking a liking to him and help him more than we know.  They called me yesterday in a bit of a panic because they said my dad was worried that something had happened to me.  I could tell when I spoke with him that he was very worried and he started to cry when I said goodbye and I love you at the end of the conversation.  This same thing happened a couple weeks ago when Paul at the front desk asked me to make a trip over because he thought something had happened to Connor.  When I got there, he was anxiously waiting in the lobby and started to tear up when he saw me asking if everything was ok.  We spent some time sitting outside repeating that Connor was fine and at school.  Alzheimer's patients often get mean as their disease worsens but my dad just gets sweeter and more emotional.  I am not sure which is worse honestly.  My heart breaks every time he cries and I ask myself if I should bring him to live with us.  Then I hear my mom saying "it's too much stress for you" and I have the same worries.  I also do think he enjoys where he lives and likes seeing all kinds of people and having his own space.  I wish there was more to do for someone with dementia but we struggle finding those activities; especially in a Covid environment.  The frequent saying from my dad is "I'm just kicking tires" ....

Are we done yet? Quarantine 2020

I am sure so many people feel this way. COVID19 hit middle of March putting us on stay at home orders until this week. Dublin Retirement Village stopped allowing visitors during this time. Normally, I can gage how my dad is doing by looking at his apartment. I can no longer tell if he is having bladder leakage because someone else is doing the laundry or know if he has been rummaging.  Our dad has had more bad days than good during this quarantine. At times he has thought he was in meetings with Trump’s advisors for healthcare; maybe this is from the enormous amount of press conferences he has watched. Other times he has asked if I remember meetings with the doctors about mom and how he misses her. There have also been tears on some lonely days saying how much he misses me and the kids. My dad may not be the grandpa that gets his grandkids out all the time on fun adventures but the love he has for them is deep and constant. It’s a quiet, supportive love.  Much like the one I had growing up. It was a place of security and warmth. 

Shortly after quarantine started, I ordered Echo Shows for myself and my dad. The first couple weeks it went well and then he started playing with it too much. I guess all those things at Alexa pops on the screen saying “Alexa tell me the story of the Dewine press conference today” or “would you like to play sports trivia” were too tempting not to start pushing buttons on the unit. Which in turn, shut off the video component so I can no longer “drop in” on him. There is a very kind woman Sharon that has fixed it a couple times but I feel bad continually asking her. At one point, Kate and I were talking to him on the Echo but couldn’t see him. I spent 10 minutes trying to get him to push one simple button to turn on the video with no success. Kate said “let someone younger try”. I think she thought she could explain it more simply. She spent another 10 minutes trying but still no success. We got a good laugh out of it. Scott and I have struggled with whether he is better left at DRV or should be home with us. Whenever his routine is altered he gets more confused. He likes his confined space of his apartment but misses us. Is he exposed to less there than he would be with one of us? We don’t know. Anytime he has had to stay with Scott the day or night of a procedure, he wants to go home. Home to his apartment not stay at the home where he lived for 32 years. So the decision is a difficult one. For now, we are hoping restrictions lift soon and he can get back to the country club, grocery, etc.  Although I think he snuck in a few grocery trips. He can be sneaky 😊. 

Today, we are sitting at the urology procedure center waiting on Botox for the bladder. It’s a good day. Dad knew his birthday and drug allergies and looked well groomed other than his quarantine hair. It’s amazing how some days are better than others yet nothing changes each day to trigger a difference. I am thankful for the time just to sit with him. It wa a crazy morning of trying to work on a rental real estate deal and as soon as I was able to sit with him in the quiet of a prep room all my angst disappeared. He said to the nurse “isn’t she the sweetest?” and I thought “nothing like you Dad”.