Life with Dad

One REALLY Long Presidency

2005-11-28T19:36:00.000-06:00

Dad was having a flashback to the past--the way past.

"Roosevelt is president. Hoover used to be president. But now Roosevelt is president."

At dinner he asked us if we had a radio in the house. When I asked him why, he said that he wanted to find out what radio programs were on.

"We don't have a TV. TVs are too expensive. We listen to programs on the radio."

"We can't afford a TV. TVs cost too much."

He says as he sits in his chair 5 feet away from his TV...

Christopher Colunbus

2005-11-09T14:21:00.000-06:00

Dad was in a talkative mood today when I picked him up to take him to the dentist. In fact, he talked all through having his teeth cleaned--an interesting undertaking.

"Columbus was my father. He died yesterday."

"Columbus got tired of living, so he died."

"Columbus was my grandfather. No, he was my father."

"Columbus got tired of living in Texas, so he went to South America. He lived all over South America."

"When he got tired of living, he died. He died yesterday."

"Columbus lived all over America, then in Texas, and all over South America. He died in Texas."

"I am Spanish because Columbus was from Spain. They speak Spanish in South America."

"Columbus lived a long, long, long time. Then he got tired and died yesterday."

Money Matters

2005-11-01T20:07:00.000-06:00

Money is a common theme among individuals with dementia. This is especially true for Dad. He switches between thinking that he has no money at all and that we are stealing from him to thinking that he is extremely rich. Tonight he was rich.

"I'm the richest man in Texas, that is what I am."

"I'm THE richest man in Texas, I thank God for that."

"How much money do I have. None of your damn business."

"I'm the richest man in Texas. I have four children."

"Dr. Smith said I could feed all four of my children the same thing because I'm the richest man in Texas."

"I'm the richest man in Texas. I have millions and millions of dollars."

"I line my four kids up, two sets of twins, and kiss them good night every night because I love them very much."

"I have four kids because I'm the richest man in Texas."

"I have 100 million dollars, so I'm the richest man in Texas."

"I love my 8 children very much. I kiss them every night."

"I'm very tired because I'm the richest man in Texas."

Suprise for Bloomberg

2005-10-10T14:27:00.000-05:00

Dad's sister was born in 1906 and died in the early 1990s. After attending nursing school in California, she returned home to Texas and lived with her parents for the rest of their lives. This weekend, I learned some amazing things about her.

"My sister met a man and fell in love. Then they got married."

"The man my sister married became the mayor of New York City. He is now the mayor of New York City. That is where they live."

"My sister's picture is on the front page of the New York Times because she is married to the mayor of New York City."

"I saw my sister's picture on the front page of the Dallas Morning News because she is the wife of the mayor of New York City. She is a very beautiful woman."

"The mayor of New York City married my sister because she is so beautiful."

Age

2005-10-03T14:33:00.000-05:00

Dad has obsessed about his age for several years. Tonight he was talking about how old he was. After saying that he was very old and still quite young almost in the same breathe, he said, "I wish I knew how old I am."

I told him that he is 88.

His response: "Well, I'll be dad gummed. I had no idea I was that old!"

Finger Painting

2005-08-29T14:50:00.000-05:00

We have a new problem since Dad came home from skilled nursing. Dad is bowel incontinent. Just like our 2 year old grandson, Dad will say he is not dirty even if he is and will refuse to sit on the toilet to have a bowel movement. Lately, however, he has started something new. If he's dirty and we don't catch it right away, he digs in his diaper. I guess he's trying to get rid of it, but what he ends up doing is smearing poop everywhere. We euphemistically call it "fingerpainting."

Thursday afternoon, Dad fingerpainted himself and his leather
recliner. Last night, he fingerpainted his bed. For daytime
fingerpainting, my husband has come up with a solution for now. We
used a leather punch to punch some extra holes in Dad's belt and lock
it closed with a suitcase-sized lock. That way Dad can't get his
pants completely off, and we can catch him before he digs completely
in his diaper. Now if we could come up with a solution for pajamas.
I don't really want to sew belt loops on his pjs.

Australia

2005-06-27T14:37:00.000-05:00

Dad fell and broke the top of his femur yesterday. We had to call an ambulance to transport him to the emergency room where they decided he needed immediate surgery. Fortunately he was able to understand where he was and why he needed surgery. However, immediately after surgery, he had some interesting ideas:

"I need to go to Australia. They can fix broken bones in Australia."

"I broke a bone, so you need to take me to Australia. Australia is the only place where they can fix bones."

An Old Man

2005-04-11T20:45:00.000-05:00

Tonight, Dad was the "oldest living man in the United States."

Dad's brother "was the oldest living man in Texas." He was "one year older" than Dad. (he was really 9 years older)

When Dad's brother died, "they did a census" and Dad was the "oldest living man."

My mother is "the oldest living woman in the United States" because she is one year younger than Dad. (She is really 7 years younger.)

Bedtime Stories

2005-04-08T20:55:00.000-05:00

Putting my Dad to bed, my husband learned many interesting things:

"I am a black man" (repeated 2 times)

"No, I am a white man" (repeated 2 more times)

"I am a black man, and I bought your house in Oak Cliff."

"I lived in Chicago. It is very cold in Chicago."

"I retired with a pension and I moved to Dallas."

"It isn’t as cold in Texas. We have a Norther come through now and then, and then it gets warm again."

"I am a black man. My father was a black man."

"I moved back to the Congo. I worked in the factory in South Africa."

"Then I moved to the Congo. They have factories in the Congo. We are in the Congo. My father was a black man."

Eating Out

2005-04-07T20:46:00.000-05:00

I was out of town at a conference during eat-out night this week. My husband reported what happened. First, Dad talked so much that he kept talking while stuffing food in his mouth. It was especially interesting to hear him hum what he was saying while he drank his tea.

Interesting information about China:
They have freedom of religion and there is an Seventh Day Adventist church there.
The Chinese living in west China don't speak Chinese - they speak English.

Many interesting things about what he (whoever he is and what his name is) has done:

His name is his brother's name and he moved from Arkansas to South Africa.

There are no blacks in South Africa. They live in central Africa.
Blacks in the U.S. moved back to Africa because they liked the weather.

My husband alternately was Dad's father, Dad, his Brother, his brother-in-law and Dad's brother again.

When my husband asked Dad his name, Dad responded, "You know my name, so I don't have to repeat it."

Dad married my husband's sister(this is while my husband was Dad's brother), whom he loves very much.

His mother had his wife's name (or his wife was his mother, my husband couldn't figure it out).

He was recruited to South Africa, where he made a little money, quite a bit of money, a large amount of money, no quite a bit of money, and retired early with a pension.

Pension and retirement - 2 words never far from his mind or mouth!

South Africa is like East Texas and West Texas. It has monsoons. It rains quite a bit.

He moved to south Africa (I think he was his brother at this point of the evening) because his 2 kids moved to South Africa. He doesn't know why they moved to South Africa, they just did.

He went to SMU, which is walking distance from his house on the other side of the river (in Oak Cliff).

A black man paid his cash for his house in Oak Cliff.

Age

2005-04-05T18:49:00.000-05:00

We had another version of magically changing age tonight. Dad is currently 87, but this didn't make any difference in his musings. The most accurate age he got was 86, which is how old he said he was for about 1/2 hour.

For a while, Dad's parents were 101 and he was 86. His parents alternated between being alive at 101 and having lived to be 101, then died. His parents really lived to be 82. At one point, Dad's father was still alive, having retired at 101.

Dad got stuck on the age 101 for a while. He was 101 now and had just retired.

Then for a while, Dad was 65, having retired very wealthy at 65. The reason he was so wealthy was that he had been president of the company and made a lot of money. He invested the money he made in the stock market and become rich. He invested so well in the stock market that he continued to get enough dividends during the Depression to stay rich. He said that he made $3 1/2 million by investing at the "BOTTOM" (shouted) of the stock market. He used that money to buy a farm in East Texas, then struck oil on his farm.

Dad's father was an amazing man. Not only did he storm the beaches of Normandy and live to be 101, he never completed school, but still managed to be come a lawyer and was president of "the company" before Dad was.

More Family

2005-04-03T19:35:00.000-05:00

Tonight, Dad thought he was mother. He said that they had been married "30, no 40 years" and that they had had "five, ten, fifteen, twenty-five sons and one daughter." One of their sons had been trained up by Dad (as mother) and was now "President of the Company." I am the Vice Presidentof the company, and I work part time so I can take care of my kids. According to Dad, I am in my 20s. I have 2 kids, but I am pregnant with baby #3. My brother, who is now President of the company, is just a few years older than I am.

As mother speaking to himself, he talked about how they had fallen in love and that "you proposed to me, and I accepted."

This morning, Dad alternated between be a Russian Christian and a Russian businessman. In both cases, he had fled persecution in Russia and was now in America. He spoke about Communists persecuting Christians and taking everything away from businessmen.

Shades of Hamlet

2005-04-01T11:51:00.000-06:00

Last night, Dad was his father’s ghost. He was allowed to come back from the dead to tell us that he was in heaven. Dad repeated several times that he was a ghost. Dad’s speech is slurring so much of the time now that I can’t catch exactly what he is saying. All I can get is the repeated words and phrases. As his father’s ghost, he talked about the heathen. I’m not sure whether or not he said they were in heaven. He did talk about good outweighing bad, which is a Seventh Day Adventist doctrine.

At the restaurant, green beans and mashed potatoes were once again finger food. He did have better luck eating his chicken fried steak with his fork, dropping only a few pieces in his lap.

Family Matters

2005-03-29T20:15:00.000-06:00

Dad started losing his hearing before anything else went. He refused to wear hearing aids because they amplified the noise. However, the side affect was not only difficulty understanding, but Dad also couldn't recognize people by their voice. This was complicated by my daughter and me sounding very much alike.

That wasn't too bad until the macular degeneration set in. Visual clues as to people's identities became difficult. Then the dementia set in. He still knows his wife's name and calls for her regularly. He remembers the names of his children, siblings, and parents, but not his grandchildren. Right now, I don’t think he recognizes any of us. I’m not sure how much is his blindness and how much is the dementia. I think that in his mind, we should look like we did 30 years ago. He can’t connect how we look now with the way he remembers his family looking. The few times recently that he has recognized Mama, he has remarked on his surprise at her white hair.

Last night, though was really strange. Dad decided that he was his older brother, Martin. My husband alternated between being my grandfather, William, and my dad. As Martin, Dad said that he worked for Dallas Title. (Dad did. His brother Martin was a farmer and a broom-maker) Dallas Title had forced him to move to New York when they opened a branch there. Dad (as Martin) still lived in New York with his sister and parents. That is when my husband became William.

Table Manners

2005-03-24T20:13:00.000-06:00

Tonight for eat out night, not only were green beans and chicken fried steak finger foods, so was mashed potatoes. Have you ever tried to eat mashed potatoes with your fingers? Ah, steak house manners.

My Scary Husband

2005-03-21T20:09:00.000-06:00

Tonight when it was time to put Dad to bed, my husband opened Dad's door from inside the room. Dad saw the light shining through the doorway and said,

"Where is that man? That man comes through the door. That is what he does."

My husband stepped through the door as he was putting on the latex gloves to change Dad's diaper. Dad saw my husband's hand raised slightly and said,

"That man has a gun! That is what he has!"

Then he realized his mistake

"He doesn't have a gun. That is true of him."

You Win Some, You Lose Some

2005-03-20T18:25:00.000-06:00

Win:
I was right about leaving the dishes on the table until Dad gets up. I've done that now for 5 meals in a row, and no complaints about being hungry and not getting enough food at the meal. I guess he has to see the empty dishes to realize that he has eaten.

Lose:
Yesterday at 4:30, Dad started asking for milk. We are trying to cut down on the amount of milk he drinks because he is diabetic and over weight. We gave him some water instead. Dad complained loudly. He said that he didn't want the water. We told him that dinner was coming soon, and he could have milk then. He still complained.

He said that he didn't want the water and that he was going to pour it out. He said there wasn't anywhere in the family room to pour the water out, so he was going to pour it on the floor. When we heard that, we took the water away.

I guess we weren't fast enough. When we put him to bed last night, we found a puddle of water on the tile, and it had run across the floor along the grout.

Another Whine Topic

2005-03-19T18:07:00.000-06:00

I'd completely forgotten about this whine topic (repression, I guess), but this afternoon Dad has been whining about his nose. We live in allergy central. Dad is on prescription antihistimines, and he is unable to figure out how to use nose sprays (or he can't coordinate the spray with inhaling). So, there isn't anything I can do for him.

"I can't breathe out of one side of my nose. That is what I cannot do."

"One side of my nose is stopped up. That is what it is."

"I need some nose spray. That is what I need." (Even though when we have given it to him in the past, it doesn't do any good because he can't use it correctly.)

Even worse, he digs in his nose with his finger. Sometimes he digs so much that he gives himself a nosebleed. Then he insists he needs to go to the emergency room.

Not a pleasant sight or topic of conversation at dinner.

Sex Education (according to Dad)

2005-03-18T20:50:00.000-06:00

"People in America want to have children. That is what they do."

"They have sex if they want to have children. That is what they do."

"I had sex with my wife. That is what I did."

"We had several children. That is true of us."

"Most people want to have two children. That is what they want."

"If they want to have more children, say they have 2 boys and want to have a girl, they keep having sex so they can have a girl. That is true of them."

"If they want to keep having sex but don't want any more children, they use a thing called a rubber. That is what they do."

Whining, Part 3,479,416

2005-03-18T12:34:00.000-06:00

Dad has been whining all day long about being hungry. I have fed him as much or more than he gets when the home health care aide feeds him. For breakfast, he had 2 eggs, sausage, a banana, a cup of coffee, and a glass of water. For lunch, he had a tuna fish salad sandwich, a bowl of walnuts, a sugar-free fudge bar, a glass of milk, and a glass of water. This was more than my very physically active husband ate for both meals. Dad fussed about still being hungry after each meal. I asked Mom, and she said that he does fuss when the aide feeds him.

I figured out what the problem is. I don't like a dirty table, and I can't stand used dishes sitting around. As Dad finishes with something (banana skin, plate, bowl, etc.) I remove it from the table. The table is clean when Dad gets up to go back to his chair. Since he can't SEE the food dishes he just used, he can't REMEMBER what he ate!

So, I have a choice--an unappetizing table or a whiny Dad.

That's Why They Call It Second Childhood

2005-03-17T06:59:00.000-06:00

Dad has worn diapers for several years. He is eating more and more with his fingers instead of silverware. Meat, salad, and green beans are now finger food more often than not. He wears a bib. We joke that our 2 year old grandson has better table manners. However, we made a major discovery this morning.

When my son was small, if his fingers got food on them while he was eating, he wouldn't use a napkin. He would wipe his hands on the underside of the table. This left disgusting food smears under the table. This morning while cleaning up the table, we discovered that Dad is doing the SAME THING!

The Door

2005-03-14T19:36:00.000-06:00

We are still locking Dad's door to keep him from going in to his room, undressing without help, and smearing poop all over the place.

Tonight, when my husband unlocked the door at 7:30 to put him to bed, Dad said, "The door is open. How the hell did that happen!"

Sadness

2005-03-13T21:45:00.000-06:00

“I am sad. That is true of me.”

“I want to be happy. That is what I want to be.”

Dad said this over and over tonight. I was feeling really bad about it and finally went to ask him what was making him sad.

“I just got married the other day, and they won’t let me sleep with my wife. My door is locked and I can’t get to my bed to sleep with my wife.”

“I love my wife to distraction. That is what I do. I want to have sex with my wife. That is true of me.”

Couldn’t help him here…

Paper

2005-03-12T15:37:00.000-06:00

Today Dad had a fascination with paper. First he talked about how paper was made.

“They make paper out of wood pulp. That is what they do.”

“I don’t know the process for how they make the paper. That is what I do not know.”

“When the paper comes out it is *LARGE* rolls. That is what it is.”
(Every time Dad said large, he shouted and just about scared me out of my skin. He repeated this about the large rolls over and over for nearly an hour.)

“That is how they make paper in America. That is what they do. It is also how they make paper in China and Russia. That is true of them.”

After more than an hour of this, shouting “LARGE” every few minutes, Dad changed to newspapers and newspaper delivery.

“The boys throw the paper. That is true of them.”

“They know how to throw the paper on the porch. That is what the boys do.”

“Sometimes they throw it on the roof. Then they have to get a ladder and get it down. That is what they do.”

“New houses in America do not have porches now. That is true of them. So the boys throw the paper *HARD* and hit the front door. That is what the boys do.”

“Everyone in America lives in their own house. That is what they do. Because there are so many houses, the yards are small. That is true of them. The small yards make it easier to look for your paper. That is what they do. You know where to look for your paper because your yard is so small. That is true of it.”

“The paper boy has grown up. That is true of him. The paper boy is now a man. That is what he is.”

(I’m not sure who he was referring to here. My brother threw the paper for a while as a teenager.)

Recognition

2005-03-11T07:49:00.000-06:00

Dad is having a hard time recognizing people. I don't know if this is because of his increasing dementia or his progressive blindness due to macular degeneration and cataracts. Dad still knows the names of his wife and children, and he calls for Mama by name when he needs something. However, he no longer seems able to attach the names to the person standing in the room with him.

Last night, he was in a fantasy world about his family. I don't know if he believed what he was saying, or he was having wishful thinking.

"My son is retired. That is what he is." (My brother is 47 and no where close to retirement.)

"My son made lots of money. That is what he did. He could retire any time he wanted. That is what he could do." (My brother only wishes.)

"My son bought the lot next door. He built his house there. That is what he did." (My brother lives 3 hours away. He has not lived close to my parents since he graduated from medical school.)

"When we built our house, we bought a big lot. That is what we did. The lot was big enought for my daughter to have her own lot. That is what it was. My daughter built her house on our lot. That is what she did." (My parents have never bought a lot or built a house. Dad's parents did, at least once if not more. My husband and I have never had our own house built, but we did have a major building project to add on and remodel our existing house so Mama and Dad could move in.)

Clothes

2005-03-06T16:17:00.000-06:00

In the middle of the afternoon, Dad went into his bedroom and took off all his clothes. I just happened to walk in just as he was taking off his diaper. I asked him what he was doing, and he said that he needed to get clothes on. I pointed out to him that he was fully dressed and took off perfectly good clothes. He couldn't explain what he was doing or why.

Bits and Pieces

2005-03-04T16:09:00.000-06:00

"I am putting on my sleeping suit. That is what I am doing."

My husband said that he was putting on his pajamas.

"My pajamas are a sleeping suit. That is what they are."

Dad was very unhappy about being put to bed.

"Why are you are putting my foot in a trap?" (about the multipodus boot to help his pressure sore heal)

"I love my wife to distraction. That is what I do."

"I just got married yesterday. That is what I did."

"I want to sleep with my wife because I love her to distraction. That is true of me."

"I want to have sex with my wife. We just got married yesterday. That is what we did."

"Why are you forcing me to sleep in this bed? I just got married yesterday, and I want to sleep with my wife."

My Amazing Grandfather

2005-03-01T18:28:00.000-06:00

My grandfather was born in 1883. At D-Day, he was 61 years old. Here is Dad’s dinner discussion about him:

“He stormed the beach at Normandy. That is what my father did.”

“He is a rather old man now. That is what he is.”

“He is a grandfather now. That is what my father is.”

“My father preaches to my kids about storming the beaches of Normandy.”

“He preaches about Normandy. That is true of him.”

“My father is a rather old man. I can’t get him to shut up. That is what I cannot do.”

“He preaches to my kids about storming the beaches of Normandy. That is what my father does.”

“I can’t get him to shut up. That is what I cannot do.”

“He never gets tired of preaching about storming the beaches of Normandy. He brings it up now and then.”

“My father did storm the beaches of Normandy. He was there. He never shuts up about storming the beaches of Normandy.”

“So he was there. That’s what my father was.”

“He was actually there. He stormed the beaches of Normandy. So he preaches to my kids and I can’t tell him to shut up about it.”

My Husband Is a Communist

2005-02-24T06:16:00.000-06:00

Dad said so. He call my husband a communist for making him wear the multipodus boot that protects his heel where the pressure sore is. That stated Dad talking about communism and capitalism.

"Russia became communist all at once. The people didn't like it. They resisted communism because it was forced on them." "Communism is being forced on me. I'm jailed in this bed and forced to wear that thing on my foot."

"China became communist slowly. That is what they did." "Because they became communist slowly, they accepted communism."

"Much of Europe is communist. That is what it is." "The Americas are not communist. That is what they are."

"I want to be a capitalist. I like capitalism. That is what I do."

Sad Question

2005-02-23T06:28:00.000-06:00

After spending 2 hours yesterday talking about his love for Mama, Dad asked my a sad question while waiting in the doctor's office:

"Is my wife still alive?"

He had been with Mama not 15 minutes earlier. She decided not to come with us to the doctor because it is hard on me to deal with getting Dad's wheelchair and Mom's walker in and out of the car by myself.

Marriage Part 3

2005-02-22T19:27:00.000-06:00

Dad is of the generation that never expressed feelings. When I was growing up, I don't ever remember hearing him say, "I love you" to my mother. In the past 6 months, he has talked more about love than he has for the previous 86 years.

"I fell in love with my wife. That is what I did. And she fell in love with me. That is what she did."

"We fell in love with each other. We wanted to get married in a hurry. That is what we did."

(I don't know the exact chronology, but some time after Mama and Dad met, Mama went away for several months to complete her degree at Columbia University in New York. This extended separation did not constitute "getting married in a hurry.")

"We waited until we were married to have sex. That is what we did."

"I still love my wife with all my heart. That is what I do. And my wife still loves me. She tells me 'I love you'."

"We've been married a long time. That is true of us."

Religion

2005-02-21T20:04:00.000-06:00

Background: Dad's family was Seventh Day Adventist. Mom's family was Methodist. Dad never went to any church in my lifetime, not even to see his children sing in the choir or preform in church plays. I have only known him to go to church for his parents' funerals when I was 9 years old, my wedding, my brother's wedding, and my daughter's wedding. As far as I can tell, these are the only times he was in church since his own wedding a First Methodist Church in Dallas in 1951.

"I was raised Seventh Day Adventist. That is what I was."

"I went to Sabbath School. That is what I did."

"I loved Sabbath School. This is true of me."

"When I was in England, I went to Sabbath School every week. That is what I did." (note: this was never any part of his World War II stories, so I don't know if this is accurate or not)

"I got tired of going to church alone. That is what I did. So I went to church with everyone else on Sunday. That is what I did."

"When I went to church on Sunday, I started working on Saturdays. This is true of me."

"When I lived in Keene, I went to Sabbath School. That is what I did."

"When I moved to Dallas, everyone went to church on Sunday. That is what they did."

"I didn't like being the only one to go to Sabbath School in Dallas. This is true of me."

"My wife raised my daughter to be a Methodist. This was true of her."

"My wife and my daughter wanted me to convert. That is what they did."

"So I converted to be a Methodist. This is true of me."

"I went to church every Sunday to make my wife and daughter happy. That is what I did."

"I joined the Sunday School. This is true of me."

"Since I had never joined the Adventist Church, they turned their backs on me. That is what they did."

"The preacher wanted me to convert to Methodist, so I did. This is true of me."

"I became a Methodist and went to Southern Methodist University. That is what I did." (going to SMU was accurate)

Spitting Part 4

2005-02-19T13:46:00.000-06:00

I talked about Dad's habit of spitting here, here, and here. It hasn't stopped being a problem; I just thought talking about it was getting boring.

I have since learned from the Lewy Body Caregivers group, that problems with spitting are not uncommon with dementia and are related to swallowing problems called dysphagia where small amounts of food and drink get into Dad's lungs. This causes his lungs to create excess phlegm that he coughs up and spits.

I think we are getting somewhere with Dad about where he spits. He has been fussed at by every adult in the house and put in "time out" without TV. What we would like him to do is to spit into a tissue and throw the tissue away. What Dad did this morning was to pick up the trashcan next to his chair and spit in it. That wouldn't have been too bad except a string of spit formed between the trashcan and his mouth. He used his hand to wipe the spit from his mouth, then wiped his hand on the furniture.

Two steps forward and one step back.

Russia

2005-02-18T06:04:00.000-06:00

After Dad went to bed last night he became a Russian, or rather a Soviet.

"Here in Russia, we teach the atheistic religion. That is what we teach."

"There is no God. There is no God on earth. There is no God in heaven. There is no God off the earth."

"That is what we teach in Russia. We teach atheisim as a religion."

"There is no God in heaven. There is no heaven. There never was a heaven. Not in heaven or on earth. That is what we teach in Russia."

Digestion

2005-02-17T19:05:00.000-06:00

Since tonight is Thursday, it's eat-out night. Dad had his usual--chicken fried steak, green beans, and mashed potatoes. Like always, he felt that he had to clean his plate. I guess he ate too much:

"My stomach is very full. That is what it is."

"I will go to sleep tonight. That is what I want to do. I will sleep all night. That is what I will do."

"My digestive system will work tonight while I am asleeep. That is what it will do."

"My stomach is very full now. That is what it is. But I will digest my food while I am asleep. That is what I will do."

"When I wake up in the morning my stomach will be empty. That is what it will be."

"I will eat breakfast in the morning. That is what I will do."

Conversation with Dad

2005-02-16T18:50:00.000-06:00

I wouldn't say Dad is lazy, but when he was a young man, his mother had to tell him to "put that book down and get a job." She had to threaten to throw him out of the house if he didn't do something besides sit around and read. He's been like that ever since. Ok, I would say he is lazy.
Today:
"I'm barely alive, that is what I am."

My response--You don't have to be. Get out of your chair and DO something, and you'll be more alive.

I guess the child really does become the parent.

Plateaus and Valleys

2005-02-14T19:29:00.000-06:00

Dad seems to plateau--stay the same--for a long time, then he takes a sudden downhill turn. He is in a downhill phase right now.

For a while now, Dad has occasionally started to undress in the family room when he thought we were taking too long to put him to bed. Tonight for the first time Dad undressed BEFORE dinner. He took off his suspenders and pants, unbuttoned his shirt, and removed it. He left his clothes in a pile in Mama's chair. Then he came to the table wearing only his undershirt, diaper, and leg wraps with his plastic pants around his knees. I guess it was a good thing he shuffles because he couldn't have walked without tripping on his plastic pants.

I re-dressed him and let him come back to the table. I had already put the salads on the table, so he started eating on his before dinner was ready. Now for as long as I can remember, Dad has liked bacon bits (imitation) on his salad. Tonight, he decided that they were too hard to chew and spit them out. He left them in a nasty pile on the table next to his salad bowl.
Dad likes to wash his food down with milk or tea. Because of his fluid retention problems and his chronic congestive heart failure, we have to limit the amount he drinks. Tonight, before he even started eating his food, he picked up his milk glass and drained most of it before I could stop him. Then, since he didn't have much milk, he had a harder time eating his dinner.

He used his fingers to eat almost everything tonight, including salad and English peas. The only piece of silverware he consistantly used tonight was his spoon for his pudding. I guess as long as it is just family, it doesn't really matter. At least he is faster eating with his fingers instead of trying to use a fork and carrying an empty fork to his mouth.

Words of Wisdom

2005-02-06T19:30:00.000-06:00

Bits from Dad over the past week:

"I like my tongue. That is what I do." "I use my tongue to talk. That is what I do." "If I didn't have my tongue, I couldn't talk. That is what I could not do."

"I am not Chinese. That is what I am not." "I am an American. That is what I am."

"I have an overabundace of facial hair. That is what I have."

"I am a cranky old man. That is what I am." "If I grew a beard, I could be a cranky grandfather. That is what I could be."

"I will live a long time. That is what I will do." "My parents lived to be over 100 years old. That is what they did." "I will live to be over 100 years old. That is what I will do."

Pressure Sores

2005-02-05T19:30:00.000-06:00

Since Dad is very sedentary, he is prone to pressure sores. For years, the sores have been on his backside because not only did he sit in a chair all day (refusing any kind of exercise or activity), he sat all night sleeping in his chair. We have been able to keep them under control by using hosptial-grade diapers that keep him drier and special skin cream for early-stage pressure sores.

Very shortly after we started making Dad sleep in the bed, a pressure sore began developing on his heel. We used the cream that works for his sores on his backside and put a pillow under his calves to lift his heels off the bed. Although Dad doesn't move any more than he has to, he was able to get the pillow out from under his legs. His heels were down on the bed, and he developed a serious pressure sore. We took him to his regular doctor who referrerd him to a wound specialist.

The wound specialist prescribed several things, including compression bandages for both legs. We had been putting surgical socks on Dad, but that wasn't enough. Since my mother-in-law has for years put a pillow next to her feet to keep the pressure of the covers off her feet, we wanted to try that too to see if that would help also. My husband built a cage to lift the blankets just off his feet.

All was going pretty well, just taking more time to get him up in the morning and in bed at night, until yesterday morning. When my husband came downstairs at 5:30 a.m. (our usual time), a wave of poop smell hit him. In the night, Dad had thrown off all the covers, undressed himself from the waist down, and ripped off the compression bandages. Poop was everywhere. It took my husband over an hour to get him cleaned up.

Obviously Dad can move around a lot more than he usually does when he really wants to...

You Can't Win for Losing

2005-01-31T19:31:00.000-06:00

Since we started locking Dad's bedroom door after dinner, he has been fussing, but at least he hasn't been going into his room, stripping, and spreading poop everywhere. However, Saturday night while we were out walking the dog, Dad sat in the family room and stripped down to his undershirt, diaper, and socks--all by 6:45.

So, last night we had a church business meeting that started at 7:30. Rather than make Dad sit whining until 9:00, my husband got Dad ready for bed at 7:00--about the time he had been fussing and undressing. When Dad was all ready for bed, he whined plantively, "Do I have to go to bed now?"

We let him sit up in his pajamas in the family room watching TV and went to the business meeting. When we got home at 8:45, he STILL didn't want to go to bed. It was nearly 9:30 before he wanted to go to bed.

I guess he wants to get READY for bed at 6:45 but not go to bed.

Floating Age

2005-01-29T19:32:00.000-06:00

Background: Dad is 87. He retired at the age of 70. All of this was one steady stream of talk while rocking back and forth.

"I am 80 years old. That's what I am."

"Everyone in my family lived to be 80 years old. I am 80 years old, so I won't live much longer."
"I retired at 80, and I get a US government pension. That is what I do."

"I have lived a long time. That is what I have done. I am 75 years old. I retired at 70. That is what I did. Since my family all lived to 80, I won't live much longer."

"I am 70 years old, I just retired. That is what I did. Now I get a pension."

"I am 72 years old. I retired just a couple of years ago. I went in to them and told them I wanted to retire and to give me a pension, so that is what they did."

"I am 80 years old. That is what I am. I have lived a long time. That is what I have done. I won't live to be much older, that is what I will not do."

"I am 73 years old. I retired last year. That is what I did. Now I am retired and I don't have to go to work."

Cold Hands

2005-01-25T19:33:00.000-06:00

"My hands are cold. That is true of them."

"I'm not guilty of any crime. My hands are cold."

"It's cold outside, so that's why my hands are cold."

"My hands are cold, but I'm not gulity of any crime."

"I've never committed any crime. That's true of me."

Logic?

Doors

2005-01-24T19:33:00.000-06:00

Dad has an obsession about doors. He has been whining bitterly about being locked out of his room ever since we started preventing him from going to bed at 6:15 p.m.

Once he is IN bed, he has to have the door left open to get "fresh air." His room is well ventilated, and it gets much warmer when the door is shut. We can't move around in the kitchen without disturbing him. Since he goes to bed at 7:30, this would seriously limit us if we didn't ignore him and go on using the kitchen as we need. We leave the door slightly ajar and go on about our business. On especially cold nights, we try to close the door more because the sliding glass door just outside his bedroom causes the adjoining room to get cold.

Tonight Dad was unusually concerned about his door being left open.

"I need the door open. That is what I need."

"If the door is open, I can get fresh air. That is what I can get."

"I need lots of fresh air. That is what I need."

"If I don't get fresh air, I will die. That is what I will do."

"The door needs to be left open for fresh air. Three people have died in that room because they did not get fresh air. That is what they did."

(His room is part of the addition. He is the only person to ever sleep in it.)

Well, THAT Didn't Happen

2005-01-21T19:34:00.000-06:00

There is an article in Tuesday's New York Times about weight loss being a common problem for people with Alzheimer's beginning in middle age before any symptoms of dementia appear.

Dad never had that problem. He is carrying 175 pounds on his very small-boned 5'8" frame with a 42" waist. This is an improvment from his greatest weight of over 200 pounds before we started restricting his diet. Unlike many elderly who quit eating, Dad is always ready to eat and often whines about not being fed. He will keep eating as long as there is food that he likes in front of him. (He won't eat anything that requires more than 2 or 3 chews per bite--too much work). There are also a few spicy dishes I occasionally prepare that he doesn't like. I bet he is an "over-taster" since he has always preferred bland foods.

Mama as Santa Claus?

2005-01-19T19:35:00.000-06:00

"It's cold outside. It's very cold. That is what it is."

"It's dark outside. That is what it is."

"My wife said she would deliver all the presents tonight. That's what she will do."

"It will be hard work to deliver all the presents, but my wife said she would do it. That is what she will do."

Grrrrrr

2005-01-18T19:38:00.000-06:00

Most things Dad does I can laugh at--eating with his fingers, wild stories about his grandfather dying of shame from cutting his beard, being the last of the Romanovs. I can even ignore it when he does "looky, looky" with a mouth full of food by not looking his direction during dinner. But there are a couple of things that really get under my skin: shuffling and whining. I guess they bother me so much because neither was tolerated when I was growing up.

Shuffling: I intellectually know that Dad has Parkinson's and that it has affected his ability to walk. However, I can't keep from cringing when he shuffles his feet as he walks. Some days are worse than others.

Whining: Dad's done a lot of that in the last 2 days. Yesterday he was whining about not getting enough to eat. This was within an hour after having a large hot lunch. He is at least 30 pounds over weight and has Type 2 diabetes. We can't let him stuff himself. He already has a hard enough time getting his bulk out of the chair without adding to it. Dad is never full. He will keep eating as long as there is food in front of him. Limiting the amount of food he is served is the only way to prevent him from literally eating himself to death.
His other whine topic is going to bed. He was whining tonight that the door to his room was locked.

"Please, please, please unlock the door." (at 6:40)

We tell him he can't go to bed that early (we let him go to bed at 7:30. Since he doesn't get up until 8:00, he spends over 12 hours a day in bed)

"What's wrong with going to bed at 6:30?"

--You'll be up in the middle of the night waking everyone else up.

No response.

Lost

2005-01-16T19:40:00.000-06:00

Dad finished dinner and asked, "Where do I go from here?"

For years, even long before he moved in with us, even before Alzheimer's, Dad sat in his recliner in front of the TV, walked to the dinner table, and walked back to his recliner where he sat until bedtime. He can see his recliner and TV from his chair at the dinner table.

When we go out, Dad has to follow some one or he gets lost. He also gets confused coming in the back door. But tonight was the first time he was confused within sight of his recliner.

Oh, my.

China

2005-01-15T19:40:00.000-06:00

"They don't have enough food in China. That's what they don't have."

"They feel hunger pains in China because they don't have enough food. That's what they do."

"They are having a depression in China. When there is a depression, people don't have enough money to buy food. Then they feel hunger pains. That's what they do."

"America sent food to China. That's what we did."

"So the people of China had food, and they didn't have any more hunger pains. That's what they did."

"But China ate up all the food we sent. That's what they did. Now they have hunger pains. That's what they have."

"There are a lot of people in China. That's what they have."

"The US can't grow enough food to feed all the people in the US and all the people in China. That's what they cannot do."

"China has a lot of people, so they cannot grow enough food for all the people. That's what they cannot do. So the people feel hunger pains. That's what they do."

"They have lots of people in China, and they all want more food.If they had fewer people in China, they would have enough food. That's what they would do."

"We use birth control in America. That's what we do. So we have enough food in America. That's what we have. No one feels hunger pains in America. That's what we do not do."

"They'll use birth control in China. That's what they will do. They'll use birth control so they won't be hungry. That's what they will do."

Locks

2005-01-14T20:01:00.000-06:00

Dad was putting himself to bed at random hours, sometimes as early as 5:45. The problem with Dad undressing himself is that he gets pee and poop all over his room. In order to prevent it, one of us had to be glued to Dad's side. We couldn't even run a quick errand or walk the dog before putting Dad to bed. So, we bought a typical bathroom door lock to keep him from causing problems. We can go through the ajoining bathroom to lock and unlock it, but that's further than Dad would ever consider walking.

Dad greatly resents being locked out of his room.

"I'm locked out of my own bedroom. That's what I do not like."

"I'm left locked out of my own room, shivering in the rain." (He was inside, and it wasn't raining.)

"I'm going to get sick, shivering in the rain, locked out of my own room."

"I'm going to get old-monia, not pnuemonia."

"There is nothing new about the monia I'm going to get from being locked out of my room."

"I'm going to die of old-monia," he says making himself cough.

Children and Civics

2005-01-03T20:02:00.000-06:00

"We had 2 children; tha's what we had."

"We are raising them the best we can because we love them. That's what we do."

"We are raising them to become righteous citizens of the United States. That's what we are doing because we love the United States."

"They will soon be old enough to vote; that's what they will be."

"We are teaching them the right way to vote. They will be righteous voters; that's what they will be."

"We cannot tell them which way to vote. That's what we cannot do."

"We will make righteous citizens of them. They are citizens of the United States; that's what they are."

"They will vote for a righteous cause; that's what they will do. So they will pick out a righteous cause; that's what they do."

"They will think before they vote; that's what they will do."

Bed

2005-01-02T20:03:00.000-06:00

Well, Dad slept all night in bed for the first time in several years. He complained for over 2 hours, but he is physically to the point where he can't get up by himself. So, all he could do is complain.

"I don't know why I am in this bed. This is not a comfortable bed. The bed has lumps."

(The last bed he slept in had a matress that was nearly 30 years old and was a cheap matress in the first place.)

He didn't say anything about being in the bed this morning. We'll see what he says tonight. We are hoping that if we force him in to bed that he will forget that he ever slept in a chair.

He has already forgotten that he lived in a house back door to my house for 8 years. He remembers that he lived in Dallas. Sometimes he thinks he is still there and sometimes he doesn't know where he is. So, we think he'll forget about refusing to sleep in the bed.

Falling

2005-01-01T20:03:00.000-06:00

Dad has been falling on occasion when he stands up. It's as if his knees just give way and he melts to the floor. Last night he must have tried to get up after we went to bed. Since he sleeps in a recliner (straight up without the foot rest), he crumpled to the floor next to the chair. We have a hospital bed for him, but he refuses to use it. He must have hit his head against the guard rail of the bed because he got an abrasion on his forehead. Fortunately, my daughter and her family were still up and in the kitchen. They heard him cursing, checked on him, and got my husband up. Dad was shaken but otherwise fine.

My husband said he's not going to give Dad a choice about sleeping in the bed any longer. He wants to be able to put the guard rails up so Dad can't try to get up. I wish him luck. It will be interesting tonight.

Marriage

2004-12-31T20:43:00.000-06:00

"I love my wife very much. That's what I do."
"Is my wife still alive? That's what I want to know."

(I explain to him that he ate breakfast with her this morning and lunch with her less than an hour ago.)

"So my wife is still alive. That's what she is. I had breakfast with her, that's what I did. I had lunch with her, that's what I did. I will have dinner with her, that's what I will do."
"How old is she? That's what I want to know."

(I explain that she is 80)

"I love my wife very much. That's what I do. We are very old. That's what we are. We are very old, but we are still alive. That's what we are."
"So I've gotten old; that's what I've done." "My wife has gotten old; that's what she has done."
"She is my wife. and I love her very much. That's what I still do."
"We had 2 kids, that's what we did."
"So I live in Dallas, that's what I still do."

(He moved away from Dallas 9 years ago)

"I love my wife very much, that's what I still do. So I miss her very much, that's what I do."

(miss her? she's been away from him less than an hour and is taking a nap in her room)

Water in China

2004-12-28T20:59:00.000-06:00

As a lawyer, Dad dealt almost exclusively with land and property rights. This included easements, right-of-way, mineral rights, and of course important in Texas, water rights. I think this background somehow connected in Dad's mind to the news stories this week about the tsunami in Asia and my Chinese son-in-law being in the house for Christmas to come up with the following story:

"There is lots of water in China. That's what there is."

"They have floods in China because there is so much water in China. That's true of them."
"Russia does not have enough water. That is true of them."

"They can't pump the water up hill from China to Russia. That is what they cannot do.""Although there is lots of water in China, they can't pump it up hill to Russia. That is true of them."

And so on for the next hour and a half...

Bodily Fluids

2004-12-27T21:00:00.000-06:00

Years ago, a friend of ours (male) made the statement, "Babies are a series of uncontrolled openings." As we are learning, this is just as true of individuals with Alzheimer’s. Oh, we were long prepared for incontinence. That started 19 years ago when Dad had surgery for prostate cancer. We just weren't prepared for the other things.

Spitting: an ongoing problem. (background) Dad has a special cup that his THE cup for water. It's an insulated mug from my brother's medical school. It's just the right size and shape for holding with unsteady hands. The handle just fits his grip. We've fussed at Dad so much for spitting on the floor, that I think he is TRYING to be better. Yesterday morning when I was refilling his cup, I noticed that he had spit IN the cup. Overcoming my evil impulse to make him drink his own spit, I washed the cup before I filled it. This morning, Dad had spit ON the cup. The handle was covered. When I unsuspectingly picked it up by the handle...

Drool: For Mom's birthday, the day after Christmas, we had a big family dinner of barbecue. Dad had to have his face wiped more often than my 23 month old grandson. Barbecue sauce everywhere...

Pee: It's easiest to changed Dad's diapers in his bedroom because he can sit on a protective pad during the process. I chose commercial-grade indoor/outdoor carpet for his room because I knew it would get gross. I guess I underestimated how gross (more below). In dressing him in the mornings, my husband would strip Dad while he was sitting on the bed and walk him to the shower. The down side was that getting comfortable seemed to trigger peeing. Dad would pee across the floor while walking to the shower. My husband solved this for a while by using the dirty clothes to catch any dribbles. When the volume got too great, my husband resorted to leaving the diaper on until Dad reached the bathroom (with tile floor--easier to clean).

Poo. For the past several years, we could put Dad on the toilet morning and evening as his clothes were changed and he could move his bowels. Wiping was another story, but at least the clean up was limited. Recently, he got less predictable and would have bowel movements in his diaper. Yep, an adult sitting on poop is just as messy to clean up as a baby sitting in it. It goes everywhere. This morning, Dad did something new. My husband had cleaned up the morning load, showered Dad, and dried him off. On the way back to the bedroom to dress, Dad let go with another load--all over the carpet. Keeping him from walking in it was a challenge in itself. I guess diapers are going to have to be put on in the bathroom as well as taken off there. I hope this isn't a new trend and just is a result of 2 days of large holiday meals.

Ghosts of Christmases Past

2004-12-26T21:02:00.000-06:00

In our family, it has traditionally been the older members who get up first on Christmas morning. I have always had to wake up my children. The last several years that Dad and Mom lived in their houses back door to mine (connected by a gate and a sidewalk), Dad has been the first one ready for opening the presents. He would come knocking on our back door at the first sign of daylight--even before Mom was up. Some years, he didn't even bother to dress--came over in pajamas, bathrobe, and slippers. He wasn't as excited about getting things as he was about seeing the grandkids opening their presents.

This year, even when we were gathered around the tree opening presents, I don't think Christmas registered with Dad. He opened his presents only with prompting.

Christmas was sort of empty this year...

Christmas Surprise

2004-12-25T21:02:00.000-06:00

8:20 a.m.

Standing totally naked at his bedroom door:

"Where is that man(my husband) that helps with the hard stuff?"
Now if we could just get him to call for help BEFORE he takes everything off...

Spitting Again

2004-12-24T06:44:00.000-06:00

We've almost given up the war against spitting. It's gotten so bad that we pick our battles. One of the lines is when Dad spits so much that the slimes the entertainment center 4 feet away from his chair. My son called me at work one day saying that the home health aide was treating Dad like a child. Dad was spitting, and the aide had turned off the TV. She wouldn't let him watch again until he quit spitting. We had given her the Ok to try to see if it would curb the spitting. Not much luck.

Sometimes we can get him to spit into a tissue. However, what he does with the used tissue is a whole other problem. He was spitting into his napkin at the table and leaving it for the person who cleared the table to pick up his digusting mess. We're trying to get him to put it into a bag hanging on the back of the chair. Limited success.

Used tissues sometimes make it into the trashcan sitting next to his chair in the living area. Most of the time, they just fall around the can.

"They fall on the floor. That's what they do." As if he has no control over where he drops them.
Tonight, my usually patient husband lost it. He staying home with Dad while the rest of us went to the Christmas Eve service. While my husband was emptying the dishwasher, Dad started spitting on the floor. My husband ended up fussing at Dad just like Dad was a small child. Sometimes that is the only way to get through.

But you feel so bad--treating an "adult" like a toddler. We have to realize that in many ways, Dad is a toddler. The hardest part is that instead of learning from experience, it seems to get worse.

Noticing Things

2004-12-22T06:45:00.000-06:00

I didn't think Dad was even noticing that his great-grandson was in the house. However, my daughter told me that she was sitting alone at the table with Dad when he pointed to the highchair and asked, "Where's that baby that always sits here?" At that point, the "baby" (now nearly 2 years old) had only been in the house for 3 days--not even close to always.

My daughter explained where the baby was and who the baby was, reminding him who she was. Dad's comment was that he didn't even know she was married. My daughter reminded him that he had been to the wedding. He responded, "Well, then, I guess you are married and it's OK for you to have a baby."

Chaos

2004-12-21T06:46:00.000-06:00

Last night we were all sitting around the table for dinner. The toddler was in his highchair right next to Dad. Dad didn't even notice. He was too busy making up a story about World War II.

The truth: Dad was 24 when Pearl Harbor was bombed. He didn't volunteer; he waited to be called up in the draft. His family was from a denomination that didn't believe in fighting or killing, but still served in the military. There are medical corpmen from his church that have earned the Medal of Honor. So, with this background, Dad was given a clerical position and sent to England. That was the highlight of his life. He told the same WWII stories over, and over, and over until my brother and I could recite them along with him. Now, all memory of this time seems to be gone.

Dad's version: "I registered for the draft, but they never called me up. They said they forgot to call me up. They admitted it was there fault. I never served in the army. Now I'm too old to serve in the army. They don't want me now. It was their fault that they forgot to call me up. They admitted that they were to blame."

Dad was so worried about being "forgotton" in the draft than he didn't even notice the chaos going on around him. The toddler right next to him was making a total mess with the spaghetti Alfredo. Everyone was talking at once. All Dad cared about was his "lack of service."

(8+4+3)*2 = Insanity

2004-12-20T06:47:00.000-06:00

For the next 2 weeks, we will have eight people from four generations plus three dogs at our house. The oldest and youngest wear diapers and eat with their fingers. Two of the three dogs are still puppies and chew.

Dad seems almost totally unaware of all the insanity. He has talked to my daughter, but we're not sure he knows who she is. He hasn't even said anything about his 2 year old great grandson. Last August when they visited, he made regular comments. I'm not sure if his increasing blindness is making him unaware or if he is just overwhelmed.

I'll try to listen closely and see how he interprets all the people...

Really Short Term Memory

2004-12-19T06:48:00.000-06:00

My husband got Dad up, gave him his shower, and dressed him. Dad came to the table where he had his usual breakfast of a banana, toast, egg, and coffee. He had just finished and I had not even put his dishes in the dishwasher yet when Dad asked where his breakfast was. I asked him what he meant.

"I need my grits and milk."

Dad has not eaten grits for breakfast in the 53 years he has been married. I told him what he had just eaten.

"Well, I guess I'm not hungry then."

My Brother

2004-12-18T06:48:00.000-06:00

Dad seems to obsess about my brother. He is a doctor in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. He and his wife have 2 elementary school-age childern with very busy social schedules. This means they don't get down to see us very often. So...Dad talks about them endlessly. Or, rather, he talks about my brother endlessly.

About a week after my brother's last visit, Dad decided that he would never see my brother again. He started crying and saying, " He's gone. He won't come again. And that's it." "He left and that is true of him."

Later, Dad decided that there was a problem because I was here, but my brother wasn't. He decided that my brother must somehow be neglected and/or abused. This was during the period that Dad thought that he was in his 40s. Even though I explained to him that he was 87, his childern were grown, and my brother had childern of his own, Dad was still convinced that my brother was being mistreated.

Last night, Dad was talking about my brother's name. His first name was chosen long before he was born because we have a long-standing family tradition of naming boys after their grandfathers. My mother told us years ago that my brother's middle name was one of her favorite names. She had wanted to give that name to her son even before my parents met.

Dad was saying "I had to name my son all of a sudden." (as if he didn't have 9 months warning). "I had to name my son, so I named him." "And that's his name today. That is true of him."

Bedtime and Poop

2004-12-17T06:49:00.000-06:00

Instead of telling anyone that he needs to be changed, when Dad is poopie, he decides to put himself to bed. This includes pulling his diaper off and getting poop everywhere--on the floor, on his bed, on his hands, and on anything he touches. My husband was only half joking when he talked about getting a buzzer that will signal us any time he goes into his bedroom.

screaming in frustration...

Changes

2004-12-16T06:51:00.000-06:00

Until recently, Dad always recognized me. I'm not sure if his current problem is due to the Alzheimer's or to his increasing blindness. His vision has deteriorated so much that he has trouble reading newspaper headlines. At meals, he can't find the food on his plate unless it is dark food on a white plate. Even then, he can't tell if there is food left or just juice. We say that "nanoscale" is the level to which Dad scrapes the pudding out of his bowl. He has such a sweet tooth that he keeps trying for "just one more taste" long after the bowl is empty.

Last night after Dad went to bed, I had to go into his room to get some towels. Before, he either called me by name and said hello, or if it was too dark to see, he would ask who it was. Last night, he thought I was his sister (who has been dead 15 years--he went to her funeral and administered her estate). This wouldn't be too far off except I'm about 5 inches taller and 75 pounds lighter than she was. There is no way to confuse our profiles. She was even heavy as a teenager.

Oh, well...

Topics I Can't Listen To

2004-12-14T07:27:00.000-06:00

Most of the things Dad talks about are at least sadly funny. However, he has two topics that I just can't listen to.

The first is about his sex life. Now I know that most of what he says is made up from whole cloth, just like his other things. However, it makes me want to put my fingers in my ears and go "blah, blah, blah" so I can't hear him. Too much information...

The other topic that gets next to me is when he talks about his parents deaths. His mother died December 22, 1964 and his father died two weeks later. Dad was at their bedsides both times. In fact, my grandmother died at my house. That was before the days of hospice programs. Everyone knew MamaGrandee was dying of bladder cancer, and the doctors could do nothing more for her. Since Mom and my aunt (Dad's sister) were both R.N.s, they took turns caring for her. They rented a hospital bed and other equipment and put her in my brother's bedroom. He had to share the room with me for a couple of weeks before she died.

Monday night Dad asked about why he hadn't seen his parents in a long time. Mom explained to him that they were dead and had been dead for 40 years. Dad said that no one had told him they were dead, and no one told him about their funerals. He started crying (which I had seen only once before in my life) and saying that he loved them very much and that he missed them. It really got next to me, especially since I don't think he ever told his parents that he loved them. It's tragic that 40 years after their death he could finally say out loud that he loved his parents.

"Curiouser and curiouser!" cried Alice (Alice In Wonderland)

2004-12-12T07:27:00.000-06:00

Either my Dad is Lewis Carroll or my grandmother followed the White Rabbit down a hole...

My grandmother's side of the family is small. Even the ones of "average" size have small bones. Little Papa was really little and Big Mama was at most average size. Their children, especially the girls, were 5 feet or less. My grandfather, on the other hand, was close to if not above 6 feet tall. So, my grandparents had a difference in height of about 1 foot.

Last night Dad decided that this difference in height must have bothered my grandfather.

"My mother grew two inches in height to make my father happy. My father wanted her to be taller, so she grew two inches. It made my father happy that my mother grew two inches."

However, this magical growth wasn't without complications.

"My mother went to the bank to cash a check but the bank didn't recognize her. She had grown two inches in height, and the bank didn't know who she was. The bank told her she had to lose those two inches if she wanted the bank to recognize her."

"My mother lost two inches in height, and the bank was very happy. They said that they now recognized her as Mrs. Willam T. P--- and that they would always recognize her as Mrs. William T. P---. The bank recognizes people by their height, and that as long as she stayed the same height, they would recognize her as Mrs. William T. P---."

This went on for over 3 hours....

By the end, I was expecting to see a white rabbit with a pocket watch worrying about being late.

Beards

2004-12-10T07:30:00.000-06:00

For quite some time, Dad has been very concerned about beards. I'm not sure why, but I'm guessing that my husband's full beard plays a role. Dad never in his life had much of a beard. Even in his 40s it was thin and blond. I never saw him with a 5 o'clock shadow. Dad's caregiver shaves him every morning. However, he has an electric shaver next to his chair in the family room that he runs over his face 3 or 5 times a day. I wonder if he just likes the sound and the vibration. He asks regularly if we can see a beard.

Dad's maternal grandfather was a small man, just over 5 feet tall, with a beard to the middle of his chest. Everyone called him "Little Papa" because he was small. His wife was several inches taller and out-weighed him by 40 pounds. She was called "Big Mama." They lived on a farm in East Texas. Big Mama died before Little Papa. He couldn't keep up the farm by himself, so the farm was sold and Little Papa lived the rest of his life rotating among his 12 children. This much of the story I'm pretty sure of. The story Dad added last night was probably pure fiction:

"Little Papa came to live with us in Dallas. It is illegal to have a beard in Dallas. They made it against the law to have a beard because it can be used as a disguise." "When Little Papa came to live with us in Dallas, they made him shave off his beard." "Little Papa didn't like having to shave his beard because he had one all of his life." "Little Papa had to shave his beard becasue they were outlawed in Dallas." "Little Papa died shortly after they made him shave his beard. I guess he died of shame because they made him shave his beard."

After Dad got tired of talking about Little Papa dying of shame because they made him shave his beard, he created another story about Dallas laws and beards.

"They made me grow a beard in Dallas. They took my picture with a beard. Then I shaved it off." "They took everyone's picture with and without a beard do they couldn't use the beard as a disguise." "They made me grow a beard so they could take my picture." "As soon as they took my picture, I shaved my beard and haven't had one since." "Everyone had their picture taken with a beard."

Kind of hard on the women. How did they grow beards?

Too Much Information

2004-12-09T07:32:00.000-06:00

Periodically, Dad starts talking about his sex life. Given the accuracy of some of his other statements (last of the Romanovs, being Egyptian), there is no telling what, if anything, he says is true. Still, I'd just as soon not hear it at all.

Last night, in addition to talking about sex, he was upset that he wasn't sleeping with Mom.

"I'm a married man. I shouldn't have to sleep alone. I should sleep with my wife."

Now Dad has slept sitting up in a chair for several years. When Mom and Dad still lived in their house, Dad slept in his recliner in the family room. This was a problem because he fussed if anyone walked through the room after he "went to bed" or if anyone turned on a light in the kitchen. There was no way to get from the bedrooms to the rest of the house except through the family room, so he was frequently upset.

I knew this wouldn't work when he moved in with us, so we bought him a second recliner to put in his bedroom. However, he still has to have a separate bedroom from Mom because he turns on the light at random times during the night and talks endlessly if he wakes up.

When he was complaining about sleeping alone, I told him that as long as he slept in a chair instead of a bed, he couldn't sleep with anyone. He never really understood that.

Holiday Traditions

2004-12-08T07:33:00.000-06:00

Every year since I can remember, Dad and I have gone out shopping the day after Thanksgiving for Mom's Christmas and birthday presents.

We had a traditional Thanksgiving this year with turkey and all the trimmings. I used the china and silver, even though only 5 of us were home. We talked about Thanksgiving and Dad watched the Macy's parade and the traditional football games. However, for the first time ever, Dad didn't mention shopping. Since walking is difficult, I just took care of getting the presents for him. Now, I almost (repeat almost) wish I hadn't.

Last night after dinner, Dad asked what the date was. When I told him, he immediately thought of Christmas and Mom's birthday and wanted to get her presents. I told him they were taken care of, and I think he understood.

Girls

2004-11-30T07:29:00.000-06:00

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, we were in the car going out to dinner (to a restaurant that serves Chicken Fried Steak, of course). We were going on Tuesday because we wouldn't be going out for Thanksgiving. While we were in the car, Dad asked us to take him some where he could meet some girls.

"I need to meet some girls."

I asked why he needed to meet some girls.

"I need to marry a girl."

Rather than say my instant response of "As opposed to a boy?" I asked him why he needed to marry a girl.

"My parents told me to marry a girl."

My husband asked him when his parents told him that.

"A couple of days ago."

I reminded him that he has been married 53 years to Mom.

"In that case, I don't need to marry a girl."

Bedtime

2004-11-17T07:34:00.000-06:00

Getting Mom and Dad to bed every night puts restrictions on what we can do in the evenings. It's not too bad for me because Mom doesn't go to bed until 9:00. If I'm a little bit late, she will wait for me or go to bed without a shower.

Dad, on the other hand, likes to go to bed around 8:00--right in the middle of the eveing. That wouldn't be so bad if he was consistent. However, he is as random on bedtime as he his on meal times. He may start heading to bed as early as 6:45 or as late as 8:30 if no one stops him. If he puts himself to bed, he doesn't get his medications, he isn't cleaned up, and he usually doesn't put on a diaper. So, we try to get him to let my husband help him. Mom can also help him, but it is hard on her.

Last night around 7:00, my husband needed to get something from his office. With good traffic, it's about a 25 minute round trip, so he was expecting to be home in plenty of time to put Dad to bed. Just in case, my husband told Dad not to go to bed until he got home.

The whole time my husband was gone, Dad kept saying,
"I can't go to bed until he gets home."

"They told me not to go to bed, and I don't know why." "I have to wait to go to be until he gets home."

"No one told me why I have to wait. They must have told someone else, but they didn't tell me."

"They told the whole world why I have to wait to go to be, but they didn't tell me."

"I have to wait until he gets home toI go to bed."

When my husband came home, he immediately went to Dad and told him he could go to bed. Dad kept repeating that he couldn't go to bed until my husband got home. My husband protested that he was home, but Dad wasn't buying it. He was told not to go to bed, and by gum, he wasn't going to bed. My husband finally had to nearly force him to go to bed.

After Dad went to bed, he kept talking. This time it was about girls:

"I fell in love with every girl I met." "I never met a girl I didn't fall in love with." "I wanted to marry every girl I met."

Meals again

2004-10-24T07:37:00.000-05:00

Dad got up very late on Saturday, so he didn't eat breakfast until 9:00. Because his breakfast was so late, I didn't give him lunch until 1:00. My husband had gone to a football game with some friends, and I knew he would probably be late getting home, so I was planning a late dinner. I wasn't too worried because Dad had eaten lunch at 1 and Mom had eaten at 1:30.

Well, that didn't stop Dad. At 5:00, he came in and sat at the table, expecting to be fed. To add to the confusion, my son who was home from college was eating a pizza. Dad thought it was totally unfair that my son got to eat a pizza and I wouldn't fed him dinner. I explained to Dad that

a. The pizza was my son's lunch since he kept college student hours

b. He had eaten a late lunch himself

c. My husband wasn't home from the game yet, so I wasn't ready to cook dinner.

I finally convinced Dad that waiting in his chair in the TV room was much more comfortable than waiting at the table.

Spitting Revisited

2004-10-20T07:38:00.000-05:00

After being pretty good for a week, Dad started spitting again yesterday. Mom tried to shame him into stopping by asking him what his mother would have said if he had spit on the floor at her house. He said, "She wouldn't like it." At least he knew it wasn't appropriate. However, he spent the rest of the day mourning his mother. She's been dead 40 years.

At least Dad remembered his mother was dead. Just the other night, he was talking about his mother.

"I haven't seen my mother in a long time. I think she still lives in Dallas. I wish I could go to Dallas to see my mother. She likes to live in Dallas. She has lived in Dallas most of her life. If I had a car, I could drive to Dallas to see my mother. I think my mother would like to see me. It's been a long time since I have seen my mother." and on and on and on.

I felt bad breaking the news to him that his mother was dead. I told him that she died 40 years ago in 1964. He responded, "She must have died young because I'm not very old." I reminded him that she was 82 years old when she died and that he is currently 87. He practiced that information over and over adding, "My mother is dead. I'm never going to see her again because she is dead. She's been dead 40 years. I guess that's why I haven't seen her in a long time."

Nose Bleeds

2004-10-11T07:39:00.000-05:00

Dad has always had allergies. They make his nose itch and get stopped up. For the past 10 years or so, he will periodically dig in his nose until he makes it bleed. Then, he won't pinch his nose to make it stop. Even worse, when a clot does form, he doesn't like the feel of it, picks it off, and starts the nose bleed up again. At least this time he didn't try to demand that we take him to the emergency room.

Spit score

Draw--Dad *tried* to spit in the trashcan and almost made it. When my husband picked up the trash can to empty it...

Egypt

2004-10-10T07:40:00.000-05:00

Egypt is a recurring theme for Dad, both ancient and modern. Sometimes, he is an Egyptian, other times he is an outsider. Lately, he has been a part of the army that occupied Egypt during World War II. He talks about going out into the Egyptian desert and finding an isolated group of people that are neither Islamic nor Christian. These people "worship stolen idols. That's true of them." What these idols are and who they were stolen from, he never says. He just keeps repeating:

"They worship stolen idols. That's what they do. They worship stolen idols. That's true of them."

Apparently both the Moslems and Christians hate them. These people are afraid of the Egyptians that live along the Nile and feel the need to hide from them.

It isn't clear whether Dad thinks he is part of the British army or part of the American army. He seems to change randomly. The stolen idols are the only consistent part of the story.

Spit score
Me 2
Dad 0

Spit Report

2004-10-09T07:41:00.000-05:00

Me 1
Dad 0
No spit around his chair this morning.

Spitting

2004-10-08T07:42:00.000-05:00

Dad has always spit. One of my grossest childhood memories is of one of our lo-o-o-o-o-ong car trips. Dad would roll down the car window, spit, and roll it back up. This was before electric windows were common. On this particular trip, Dad was getting tired from the long drive. He thought he had rolled down the window, so he turned his head and spit. He hadn't rolled down the window...

With this as a background, Dad had something of a base for telling my husband that he had "always spit on the floor." Even though he practiced spitting in the trashcan that night, the lesson didn't stick. We've had to clean the floor around his chair fairly often. Now it is getting to be an everyday thing. I tried fussing at him again tonight. The last time I checked on him, he was holding the trashcan and spitting into it. I guess we'll know in the morning if it made any difference.

Chicken Fried Steak and Queso?

2004-10-07T07:49:00.000-05:00

Dad will eat anything at a restaurant as long as it is chicken fried steak. His table manners are only slightly better than my 20 month old grandson. Dad spills more than my grandson (unless my grandson is trying to feed his puppies). Eating utensils are only approximations. Food can be picked up with a fork or spoon, then pulled off with fingers and stuffed in the mouth. Alternately, food can be picked up with fingers and be placed on a fork for tranport to the mouth. Or, as a third option, the fingers can work with the fork all the way from the plate to the mouth.

Tonight, Dad was eating chicken fried steak with his fingers and french fries with a fork. I guess the french fries were easier to stab. We were eating at one of the few Mexican restaurants in town that serves chicken fried steak also. While we were waiting for the food, Dad was dipping chips in queso (his own because of double dipping). When the meal came and my husband had cut up his meat, Dad proceeded to pick up the chicken fried steak, dip it in queso and eat it. It must not have been too bad because he repeated it several times.

Crisis Averted

2004-10-05T07:49:00.000-05:00

"One side of my nose is blocked up. I don't know what to do."

"One side of my nose is blocked. I can't breathe out of one side of my nose."

"I can't breathe out of one side and I don't know what to do."

"Can someone help me?"

My husband coached him through using nose spray. It took 2 or 3 times, but they were apparently successful. He was able to eat dinner with no further problems.

Geography and Water

2004-10-02T07:50:00.000-05:00

Dad has always been interested in geography. Travel books were among his favorites as a child.

"I've never been to Africa. This is true of me."

"My daughter has never been to Africa. This is true of her."

My brother went to live in Arkansas. He never went to Africa. That was true of him."

"The Sahara is a desert in Africa. It takes up most of Africa. I've never been to Africa."

"The Sahara does not get much rain. They don't have enough rain to grow crops. That is true of them."

"The Amazon gets too much rain. The Amazon is not a desert. It gets too much rain to grow crops. That is true of it."

"Texas has dry areas. West Texas is dry. It is hard to grow crops in West Texas. New Mexico doesn't get much rain either. Arizona is a desert. They can't grow crops in Arizona."

"East Texas gets plenty of rain. There are lots of rivers in East Texas. They can have agriculture there."

I guess all this talk about deserts and rain made Dad thirsty. He came to the table, put on his bib, and started talking about water.

"I don't smoke. I have never smoked. That is why I am thirsty. I need to drink water because I never smoked."

"I have never smoked and I don't want to smoke. That is true of me. That is why I drink water. I need water to drink."

"I don't get enough to drink. I need water because I don't smoke."

???

Breakfast fun

2004-09-26T07:52:00.000-05:00

My husband helps Dad get up, showered, and dressed on weekend mornings. This morning, my husband got Dad to the breakfast table, prepared his coffee (3 spoonfuls of decaf, sugar and fat-free French Vanilla with a spoonful of sweetner--ugh), helped him with his banana, and prompted him to take his morning meds.

I had assumed my husband had also poured milk on Dad's cereal. Bad assumption. When Dad realized that there wasn't any milk on his cereal, he dropped his pills in it and started pouring his coffee over it. Cheerios and way too sweet fake coffee--yum. I caught him before he had poured very much, fished out his pills, and poured the milk. He ate the Cheerios with diluted fake coffee and milk. What does this tell you about the effect Alzheimer's has on taste?

Meatloaf

2004-09-22T07:53:00.000-05:00

Did you know that meatloaf is finger food? It is when Dad eats it.

Weight

2004-09-20T07:54:00.000-05:00

I've been concerned for some time about Dad's weight. He is less than 5'8" and weighs more than 175 pounds. I've enlisted the aid of the home care attendent to reduce his calorie intake since getting him to exercise is impossible. Of course, anytime we aren't around, Mom sabotages the effort by giving him whatever he wants.

I haven't said anything about weight in front of Dad, but last night he was talking about it.

"I am over weight, but I'm not obese."

"I have lots of blubber."

Comments like these, with no mention of doing anything about it. I wonder where this idea came from.

Why is it

2004-09-19T19:00:00.000-05:00

that Dad remembers to put his bib on for breakfast and non-meal times, but doesn't for lunch and dinner? When he comes to the table at random times--2:00 in the morning, 3:00 in the afternoon--he always puts on his bib. His bib stays on the back of his chair. At lunch and dinner, if I'm not fast enough, I have to get him off his bib so I can put it on. He never, ever forgets at breakfast. What's up with that?

Lucid (sort of) Evening

2004-09-18T19:01:00.000-05:00

At dinner Thursday (out to eat night), I was talking to Mom about when my husband would be home from his autumn backpacking trip. Dad asked who we were talking about. I explained to him, but I'm not sure he really understood. My husband had been gone a week, and Dad hadn't even mentioned him. He ususally asks where my husband is (that man, or the man who sits there, or the man who helps me) within a day or two of his absence.

However, Dad did ask where he had gone. I said he was backpacking in Montana. Dad remembered some of the geography of Montana and asked if he were backpacking in the mountains or on the plains. Dad then said that he had just driven through Montana without really stopping to see anything. I reminded him that he had been to Glacier National Park in Montana. Dad remembered that it was on the US Canada border.

He then said, "If I remember correctly, I've been in all 50 states." I confirmed that he had. He then said wistfully, "I don't remember much about Hawaii." (remember, he has said that he doesn't know why Hawaii hasn't become a state yet--see July 19) Since Mom and Dad went to Hawaii after I left home, I couldn't tell him anything about his trip. I think he wanted to be reminded. Mom's strokes have gotten her speech areas, so she couldn't tell him either.

Too sad...

Confusion reigns

2004-09-16T19:01:00.000-05:00

Dad obviously hasn't been able to keep up with days of the week for some time. Now Mom is getting confused. We've been eating out on Thursdays for several years. This week, when I came home Tuesday evening, Mom had gotten Dad ready to go out to eat in his special "out to eat" clothes--a white shirt without any stains, clean pants, dress socks, and shoes instead of house slippers. I had no sooner gotten in the door when Dad started heading out. I tried to explain to him that it was Tuesday, not Thursday, and we were eating at home. Dad eventually turned around, sat at the table, and wondered why I couldn't produce dinner instantly after coming in from work. I don't think he ever understood about it being the wrong day.

Oh, well.

Voting

2004-09-13T19:02:00.000-05:00

I guess all of the news on TV about the upcoming presidential election has impacted Dad. He's been talking about voting.

"I'd sell my vote, if I could."

"I don't know who to sell my vote to, but I would sell it if I could."

I have no idea where this came from.

Bedtime stories

2004-09-08T19:03:00.000-05:00

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, will you let me go to sleep?"

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, if I close my eyes will you let me go to sleep?"

Followed by:

My husband: "Why did you spit on the floor?"

Answer: "I didn't have anywhere else to spit."

My husband shows him the trashcan next to his chair and tells him that he can spit in there--or swallow it.

A few minutes later: "I don't have to spit on the floor. I can spit on the thing. All my life I've spit on the floor."

My husband: "I've known you over 30 years, and you've never spit on the floor."

Later, we hear Dad practicing spitting in the trashcan. "I don't have to spit on the floor. I can spit in the can."

Over, and over, and over--he's going to be dehydrated by morning.

Middle of the Night Madness

2004-08-16T19:10:00.000-05:00

Dad's understanding of time of day is weak at best. In the past, he used daylight to gauge when to go to bed and when to get up. This meant that he was going to bed very early in the winter and getting up extremely early in the summer. However, it was at least approximately correct.

Lately, Dad has not even been able to use these clues. This has resulted in some strange and annoying incidents. He will randomly decide it's bed time any time after 6:30. This means that any time we need/want to go out in the evening, we'll run the risk of Dad going to bed too early and either not preparing properly (diaper, medication, etc.) or putting a burden on Mom that she has a hard time with. On another day, he may decide it's NOT bedtime and resist being made ready for bed. These are irritating events but not really problematic.

The problem comes when he decides to get up at 1:30 a.m. We have a huge triple sliding glass door in Dad's living area and a large window with only light filtering curtains in his bedroom. There is no reason for him not to be able to see that it isn't daylight. However, twice while my daughter was visiting, he decided that it was morning and that he needed to get up. Now my daughter had brought her two 1/2 lab puppies with her. To keep them from barking at night, we locked them in the utility room. Both times Dad got up, he let the puppies into the house. Now first of all, they are labs which means they chew. They chew EVERYTHING--sprinkler systems, lawn furniture, air conditioning insulation, you name it. Second, since they are puppies, they are only partially house broken. Fortunately, I heard the puppies both times and got them before anything happened, but it was a narrow escape.

The really puzzling thing is why Dad let them inside in the first place. He doesn't ever go into the utility room unless he is on the way to the car. So, the need to go into the room where they were isn't a reason. Furthermore, he doesn't even LIKE dogs. (see July 5)

T'is a puzzlement.

A Voice from the Distance

2004-08-14T19:12:00.000-05:00

Plaintively, "Don't pee on the carpet, please."

a few moments later...

Deep sigh, "Too late."

Dad's Views of My Husband

2004-08-13T19:13:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, Dad knows who my husband is. Other times he is "that man who helps me" or just "that man." My husband has worked for the university since 1980. Dad has been on campus and seen where he works many, many times. He's never understood what my hsuband did, but that's not surprising since he never has had a clue (even pre-Alzheimer's) what computers do or what kinds of people work on them. However, he has come up with some interesting things that he thinks is "true of him:"

Once, my husband was briefly the last of the Romanovs (See July 9).

Another time, he was an investment banker who had gotten very rich and who had advised Dad on his investments. (I wish)

Recently, he was a former Dallas Cowboy football player. (note--my husband has a runner/cyclist build. He is 5'10" and weighs about 145 lbs. I don't think he would last 5 minutes on the field with professional football players.)

My husband and my brother have the same name. That has caused minor confusion over the past 34 years, but we usually know which one we are talking about. However, it is really confusing Dad. Sometimes when he remembers my husband's name, he think my husband is his son and that I am his daughter-in-law.

It's getting really interesting....

News Flash

2004-08-03T19:16:00.000-05:00

According to Dad, the last of the Romanovs now lives in Houston. In the continuing saga of Dad's fascination with the Romanovs, he created a new chapter:

The son of the last of the Romanovs was born in England. As an adult, he moved to New York City. There, he aquired a lot of land and got very rich. However, New York has a large inheritance tax, so he sold his land in New York City and bought land in downtown Houston. He chose Houston because Texas doesn't have any inheritance tax. The land in Houston became very valuable. He sold most of the land in downtown Houston and became very rich.

Somehow the story got muddy here and I couldn't follow it. Dad says he is the grandson of the son of the last of the Romanovs. However, something happened to all the money he made because he is now very poor. (See July 20 about being rich and poor)

Visit from Granddaughter and Great-Grandson

2004-08-01T19:18:00.000-05:00

My daughter and her 18 month old son came for a visit. This has prompted several funny comments from Dad.

The morning after they arrived, Dad was asking who the girl and baby were. Mom explained that the girl is his granddaughter and the baby is his great-grandson. He asked if she was married. Mom told him that he had gone to the wedding and showed him a picture. He said, "I don't remember giving her permission to get married." (as if she needed permission from a grandparent)

Then Dad asked if his son was married. Mom answered yes. Dad said he didn't remember the wedding. Mom told him he went to the wedding in Florida. (My sister-in-law's family lives in Florida. She hasn't lived there in more than 15 years. They live in Fort Worth.)

I didn't know about this conversation. Out of the blue at dinner that nignt, Dad pops up with, "My son wants me to move to Florida. I don't want to live in Florida." I asked him why he thought my brother wanted him to move to Florida. He said because that's where he got married. I told him the wedding was in Florida, but his son lived in Fort Worth. He said, "Good, because I don't want to live in Florida." (note--Dad and my brother have never gotten along. The LAST thing my brother would want would be to have Dad live near/with him.)

My husband took my daughter and her son to Dallas for a convention. After they had been gone 4 days, Dad finally notices that my husband (who puts him to bed every night and dresses him most mornings) is gone. At dinner, he points to my husband's chair and asks where "that man" is.

Babies and Family

2004-07-26T06:22:00.000-05:00

Usually, Dad knows who I am, and he often knows my husband. But the other day, he was very confused about our stage in life. He was saying that I had "snuck around behind his back and gotten pregnant some how." (We've been married more than 29 years.) And now "there is a baby walking around the house. That is true of it." "I didn't know white babies could walk like that." (What did he expect, that they fly?)

Another time Dad said, "My daughter married a banker. That is true of her." (My husband is a network manager at a university.) "Her husband makes good money so she can afford to stay home and take care of me. That is true of them." (I've worked full time since 1986 and part time before that.)

Napkins

2004-07-25T06:15:00.000-05:00

Dad has a funny view of the purpose of napkins. Unlike the rest of us, he does not put them in his lap, except at restaurants. Nor are they used for wiping his face unless he is specifically prompted and coached. No, the role of a napkin is to blow your nose on it at the end of every meal. Sometimes they are for spitting into also. Then, after his nose has been blown on it, the napkin can be used for wiping up the many things dropped on the table around his plate. Needless to say, I pick up all napkins with the greatest of caution.

Update: Mom has trained Dad to put his napkins in a plastic grocery bag that hangs on the back of my chair. It's kind of gross to have that right behind me while I eat, but it is better than picking them up. We change the bags frequently.

Getting Dressed

2004-07-24T06:17:00.000-05:00

Dad's ability to dress himself is spotty. He can't put on his diaper because of the tape tabs. (The pull-up adult diapers have to be changed WAY too often, and it's not worth the battle.) He can't put on his own socks and shoes because his feet are seriously swollen, and he doesn't have the strength to pull hard enough. He can handle buttons and snaps if you wait long enough. He never figured out that you could fasten the back of the suspenders, put on the pants, and pull the suspenders over your shoulder. So, my husband helps him dress/undress most days.

Gathering everything that is needed to dress Dad takes time. Sometimes Dad ends up sitting for just a few seconds without any clothes on, which he DOES NOT like. One night when my husband had to get the cream to dress his bedsores from the other room, Dad complained, "I am a naked man. I am a very naked man. That is true of me." This morning while my husband was helping him dry off from his shower he said, "I'm as naked as a jay bird. That is true of me." (What does he expect, to take his shower with his clothes on?)

Strange Night

2004-07-23T06:18:00.000-05:00

Dad was in a strange mood yesterday. It was eat-out night, and he loves eating out. Eating is one of his major hobbies. Or maybe his only hobby. Anyway Mom had dressed him in his special eat-out clothes--clothes with no stains or food stuck to them. This is usually his signal that it is eat-out night. Most of the time, he is waiting eargerly for us to come home so we can go eat. I have even found him waiting at the door for me to come. However, last night when I turned off his TV and told him it was time to go he said, "Go where?" I explained that we were going to eat out. He responded, "Why?" I explained that he had to come if he wanted to eat dinner.

Once we got to the restaurant, he immediately pulled out his billfold and asked us to find the credit card he needed to pay with. We found it for him and he took it out and set it on the table like he was ready to pay. Even before we ordered! This is more evidence that he doesn't have normal sensations of hungry and full. When he eats out, he orders one thing and one thing only--chicken fried steak. Some nights he orders for himself, but last night he didn't even acknowledge the waitress. We cut his food for him because 1) his Parkinson's keeps him from gripping the knife and bearing down and 2) even when he could cut his food, he cut it into giant pieces. He would stuff a huge piece in his mouth, chew only once or twice (he doesn't like chewing) and try to wash it down with tea. Needless to say, he choked a lot. His response to choking was to stuff more food and drink into his mouth while he was still coughing. Not a pretty sight. Since we've been cutting his food into reasonable sizes, most of the choking has stopped.

Last night, this worked against us. Instead of eating the reasonable size pieces of meat, he tried to chase the tiny bits of crust with his fork around his plate. In an effort to get us out of the restaurant before midnight, my husband got a second fork, loaded it with a reasonable amount of food, and handed it to him. Dad finished his meal trading off forks.

Leaving the restaurant, Dad tried to get into every car we passed. I drive a small, red car. He usually only tries to get in to red cars, but last night he didn't care. He just wanted to get into the CLOSEST car so he didn't have to walk any further.

Then, in the night, he woke up at 1:00 and got into the shower. We don't know why he felt the need to shower in the middle of the night. Fortunately (I guess) we slept through it, but poor Mom didn't.

Sigh

Birds

2004-07-21T06:19:00.000-05:00

Mom has been an avid birder (not bird watcher) most of her adult life. Later in life, Dad attempted to bird with her in an effort to share an interest . However, he was not willing to walk the miles though unpleasant brush to really engage in serious birding. His efforts evolved to watching the birds in the feeder in the back yard--as long as someone else filled the feeder. Mom used to fill feeders until she got too frail and unstable to walk on uneven ground.

When we moved Mom and Dad in, we brought over there birdfeeders. In addition to ours, we have a forest of feeders. However, between our busy schedules and the very wet spring we had, we haven't been really faithful in keeping them full. Here's Dad's response one day when he was feeling poor (see yesterday's entry).

"The birds are fussing because they are hungry. There is no food in their feeder. That is true of it." "We don't have any birdseed because we don't have enough money to buy any. That is true of us." "My wife will be angry at me for not feeding the birds, but I can't feed the birds because I am too poor to buy the birdseed. That is true of me." "If my wife gets mad at me, she might not feed me. And I *like* to eat. That is true of me." "If my wife won't feed me, I'll be hungry. Then I'll be in a pickle."

Money

2004-07-20T06:20:00.000-05:00

Dad used to be very good with money matters. His company did profit sharing rather than having a retirement plan. This worked out very well for my parents. First, because his company, which had been in business more than 60 years, went bankrupt shortly after Dad retire. Second, Dad invested this profit sharing very well.

However, for the last several years, Dad has been very confused about money matters. I took over bill paying when Dad paid the utility company using a check from a closed bank account and couldn't understand why they wouldn't let him pay with another check. During his "mean" stage of Alzheimer’s, he accused me (and others) of stealing from him and threatened to call the police. Now, he vacillates between thinking he is very poor and very rich. Examples:

"We only have my social security to live on. My wife never worked. That is true of us." (Mom worked as a school nurse for more than 20 years.) "We don't even have enough money to buy our food. That is true of us." "It is so cold in the house (78 degrees) because we don't have enough money to pay to turn on the heat (in July in Texas)."

"We have more than a million dollars (not true). I invested in the stock market very well (true). That is true of us." "We owned land in downtown Dallas, but we sold it when it became worth a lot of money. Then we went to live in Oak Cliff. That was true of us." (This might be something of a childhood memory. He did live in Oak Cliff a couple of times as a boy and then again as a young man.) "We made a lot of money off our land in downtown Dallas." (He also may be confusing the money he made from his aunt's estate. She owned a lot of land in downtown Houston. However, it was split among so many nieces and nephews that no one got a huge amount.)

He asks me regularly if he pays income tax. Even when I show him his finacial records, he immediately swings between believing he is rich or he is poor.