Kids

I was given the nasty, brutish, and short treatment last night about 9 after I was absent most of the day enjoying a most wonderful, fun-filled, joyous day with the Girards. We explored the science museum in Syrause, viewed an I-Max film of the undersea world in Baja, CA, and drove by Onondaga Lake's Festival of Lights. What a contrast between Max and Esme who are very involved with learning and Dad who thinks he knows it all. The kids are soaking up new like sponges. Dad is trying to squeese out the last of his sponge.

Winter Fun

One of the winter gifts to Dad was a snowman outfit. Since the snow pretty much rained away he had to assume the role.

Pups

Andy and Heather Merrill brought their 6 puppies over to play. One held by Dad went to sleep and snuggled happily there while the rest were carried around the house by great grandson, Max, and great granddaughter, Esme Girard. A great time had by all.

A-OK

The medical doctor checked Dad out this morning. The regular, "See you in 6 months" always gives Dad encouragement. I asked the Dr. if it would be months or years yet and he said if he had to guess, he would say yes. Everything seems to be working on his body only not so fast or clear as before.

A Grand "Old" Time

Last night Dad's care-giver brought her 95 year old mother with her. She asked Dad if he liked horses. "Of course he likes horses." "What else do you like?" she asked. "I like women," he replied. With a wink she agreed that they would get along well. Three hours later, Almeda said that Dad had laughed for the whole time. He promptly went to sleep for 7 hours, and then another 3.

The next generation

The second day after Christmas. This is Dad with the four great-grandchildren, Max, Esme, Greta, Lincoln.

Ups and Downs

Dad speaks with authority and often with expletives. What is real or remembered dreams is left to us to decipher. He has been very nice the past days. Only in the middle of the night does he get short tempered, but he goes right back to sleep. It amazes me what he knows and does not know. He asked about a 62 year old that died that he read about in the paper. I explained how we knew him. Then he read me the headline that said not to get smashed on alcohol during the holidays. (As if there was some reason for concern). And then he asked for directions to the bathroom.

He will not ask for help. The main concern we have is that he may fall. One leg gives out sometimes. He thinks he can do something, but is not physically able. He reaches to pick up stuff on the floor. This is the reason we try to have someone around, expecially when he is trying to stand or sit. I think he understands this, but still he moves without warning or help. He knows that the roll-away chairs should be backed up against the wall when he tries to stand or sit. So sometimes the walker is put against the wall while he tries to stand from the chair. He will sit up on the bed and acts surprised when I show up. Apparently it is just coincidence that I also am alert at 3am. Only from the monitor would we know he was moving.

Planning is always on his mind. He put together a seating arrangement for the hunter's dinner party that is not even under consideration. He plans who will eat with Brenda on Friday night. Shall we get take-out or try one of the 23 places he likes to name. I suggested a computer so he could see pictures of your blogs, but he said, "I'll see them tomorrow."

Merry Christmas

After getting up and explaining all that we had to do today ( insurance business, move the barn, etc.,) we got to the bathroom. Dad got dressed for warmth and found the living room chair where the fog cleared in his brain. Pat got a great breakfast. And then the miracle happened. Sun broke through the window.

Thoughts

Thanks to the marvels of Pat's magic touch the computer took the secret password that I have been shouting at it for days. So the blogger is back. The winter scene outside Dad's window was a few days ago. Today it is warm and raining. The driveway has bare spots.

Dad was concerned about writing a check but his book was still in the toilet. (It takes until breakfast for his fog to slowly dissipate.) My thought for all of you who have seen your earthly wealth cut in half is to consider how close the money and other waste are connected. And focus on the important not the less relevant.

From "Jesus" by Deepak Chopa

Jesus said to find God. Not with our five senses but by "going beyond." Since God doesn't speak to us directly He is concealed by the thoughts that fill our minds and never stop speaking. So he suggests meditation that leads to silence that leads to being closer to God.

Our activities that bring accomplishment and a sense of joy have these qualities:

• Love and enthusiasm; Appreciate the beautiful as expressions of God's love coming our way through grace, not by chance or our hard work.


• Optimisim; We have many parts of our soul. Farm the good seeds and ignore the bad.


• A desire to reach a goal; When feeling resistance or obstacles - stop - wait for a higher consciousness to offer a solution.


• Focused attention; Don't let your ego or personal desires interfere. They are often driven by fear. Patience leads to transformation and quiets the ego.


• Enjoy bursts of fulfillment; When you see something beautiful, appreciate it. Give love. Be Generous. Don't withhold any good impulse.

And here is your test when you're finished.

1. Do you feel fulfilled and happy acting the way you did?
2. Was it easy for you?
3. Did it bring the right results?

Sometimes I pass these tests with Dad, but more often one or more get slighted.

Father, Son, and ?

Dad was full of orders this morning. Find the razor blade in his bed. Turn the heat up (it's only 75). Fish his checkbook out 0f the toilet tank. His idiot son flushed it already and probably lost it. Throw the covers over Marge so she doesn't get cold. Put a shirt on (me in a T-shirt dripping sweat) before you freeze. I think I have taken care of all his demands.

I Did It

He insisted on getting his own orange ready to eat.

Me Too

An article in Newsweek explores the idea that feelings may be contagious like the flu. The closer you are to the happy person and if they also feel close to you, the more likely you will pick up the feeling. The past few days have been very nice with Dad. His manners came back. When he is dependent acting then I feel generous with my care. But last night he was up twice at 11 and 2 and was very nasty. Very quickly I returned the shouting, swearing favor.

In my head I know that it is my turn in life to act like an adult. That's what I keep telling myself for the next 2 hours after such encounters. Then the anger seems to feed on itself. My muscles tense. What is left of my brain races along with other concerns. Comforting sleep is elusive.

Thanks be to the world's balance, he is happy this morning.

Breakfast Obituaries

Santa

NBA game until 11. Up at 4:30, then sneezing, coughing, wheezing until 5:30. Up in the chair to start worrying about the coming storm. Then read the obituaries while the toast gets cold. Shaved and ready for Santa. I mean Brenda. Today is Friday and she has been taking him out to dinner for 5 years. Now they tend to stay in and eat at home. But his anticipation is very much like mine was while waiting for Santa. If the storm prevents her arrival and the reindeer can't fly I expect great disappointment at the supper table tonight.

Wasn't it Karl Jung that postulated the "collective unconscious" Or was that Ryan's experience?

It is what it is.

Enough about sleep time and pills. Last night he got both the brain pill and two Tylenol PM. And then slept for 8 hours without dreaming. He was alert and ready to talk after a huge breakfast of bacon, fried egg, toast, coffee. Remember the generous trait - he placed a piece of bacon on my plate to be sure I got one. I tried to avoid one of the "talks" that all of our parents try for at some time. But I knew I should listen and encourage the discussion. A tape would reveal my weaknesses and fears, but I did my best.

"There is nothing after this life." " God put us here, but does not pay much attention to how we behave." "Stuff happens." "Not all of it is positive." We probably won't be aware of departed loved ones. "I can't see a reunion in the firebarn." "Jesus was seen across the road a few nights ago, but He didn't come over here." I suggested maybe he should have extended an invitation.

He wants a day of calling hours so people can come and reflect on what a nice guy he was or how he was not. He wants to be buried in Rodman next to Marge and Judy. Whenever he talks about them he tears up and that brings on heavy breathing. As if he is trying to restrain deep feelings. "There is a place there for Carl too, but probably he has other plans."

He reviewed the family history and our finances. His grandfather went to his stepmother's funeral to be sure the old SOB was really dead. He doesn't have much money, but he doesn't owe any either. Things are taken care of. But it is up to me to get his cadillac a good home.

Some stories are better left untold. It took weeks to get his car repaired enough to pass inspection. Every day he would look in the garage and bug me about checking on the repair progress. Finally we got it back and he was happy. While I was backing it in the garage, the door narrowed and took off the driver's side mirror. I didn't have the heart to tell him. Monday a new one gets put on while I take the car for a warm-up ride. This is a better untold story.

His morning "talk" which was about an hour and took in even more usually untold stories on various topics is probably one that we all should have sometime.

Dad with wit and grace

Inertia

It seems that when Dad is at rest he wants to stay that way. Perhaps it is just me looking differently, but once seated he will not get up until prompted. He slept from 9:30 until 6:30. He woke up and sat on the edge of the bed and mumbled nonsense until he got out that the radiator was leaking on his car and we should fix it. "Not right now, but when the time is right." Then he will sit there until I lift him towards the walker. Reports are that he seems asleep listening to music until he starts to sing along with the tune. Presented warm coffee he will leave it there until it needs another warm up. Yet he remembers some things. Pat bought flowers and candy for all his care-givers and he knows who gets which. He asked today about the project I was talking about doing yesterday. He thinks I should check in today so they know I'm all right.

We went to Australia yesterday and were greeted on our return with scowls, curt remarks and angry swearing for the next two hours. This is our punishment for abandonment. But then a new record of 9:30-7:30 (10hrs.) At which time I was ordered to fill in the holes or put covers over them.

Partial learnings are fun. The roll away chairs in the kitchen are a danger if you try to stand, fail, and fall back. As the chair rolls backward you land on the floor on your back. Not a good landing. So he has been trained to push the chair back to the wall and then stand to the walker. Only part of this is remembered. He rolled the chair around to get the walker against the wall, then tried to stand with the roll-away chair open to the kitchen.

The bathroom is the place to do your meditations. But where is it now?

"Yes, I would like some hot coffee." Then the cup sits there as he stares at it getting cold.

"We have to pay the bills. When my checks come in we should look at the balance."

But my oatmeal cookies were praised as the best so he does know a lot.

94.75 years

Donepezil (doh-NEP-eh-zil)

Or in the $5 per pill stage, aricept. A tiny piece of dynamite smaller than a baby aspirin. A possible side effect listed is "loss of appetite." Yesterday Dad ate one fried egg, two slices of bacon, one plate sized pancake, coffee, and juice. Although there are days when he eats very little. Another effect is unusual dreams. Unlike some of his grandchildren apparently his dreams involve real people doing unusual, but possible things. Last night was a good long sleep night. Up only once at 3:30 and then at 8am. And he slept a large part of Sat. before. We cut up a large cow the first part of the evening. A rich guy wanted a 99" steak so we had to piece on to both ends to get the required length. Later there were 5 women who had to be organized into the Cadillac. He drove but was having trouble negotiating a narrow space so he had me take over the wheel. He told these stories in more detail, but in the past tense realizing that they were dreams.

Careful Care is my advice for the future. Watchful interest. If you are the custodian and have the persons wishes as your concern, then do whatever you can to provide the necessities of comfort with whatever you have available to the best of your compromised abilities. Discuss this now. But things change so fast that what we are doing is not what you will do. Probably only 2% of what I am saying will apply to your life. Medicines change, circumstances vary, and we all want some things that are particular to us. Dad does not like the looks of a nursing home or senior citizen project. I have seen people wait in line to get such a clean place to live. Few have concerns about the actual care given in a nursing home. It is always how sad it is to see others slumped in wheelchairs. Six months ago we had money saved. Today we have 40% less. A few months ago I would listen to Dad's comments and try to respond. This morning he had about 10 suggestions that I could barely listen to. There is a bare space of wall between the oil painting and the TV that he thinks needs an 18" wide dark wood strip to provide continuity. I want to live at camp, drink more, die in the woods sitting under a tree. Pat does not. Compromises have to be made. Good Luck

Confounders

Like I said, there is no logic or reasoning and why don't I just learn to accept. In Guidance school they said we should just accept that the person was feeling sad and offer our support. It was not important why they were feeling sad. Sad was what counted. Last night I returned to the Tylenol PM after the NBA game at 10pm. He slept soundly until 6:30am. A new record. So logically it was the two pills, right? And the pills have usually confused him and caused dreaming. No dreams and fairly clear headed this morning. Oh, and the confounder? That was a pill that I supposedly gave him but found later all soggy in his clothes. Was it the aspirin from the morning or the brain pill from the evening before. And I wonder if any of them make any difference in his behavior.

Correlation does not mean causation

Or does it? I did not pass out the Tylenol PM last night to see what effect it might bring. So to bed at 8. Up at 11:30, 1:30, 2:50, and 6am. No pattern to the time intervals, but more frequent walks to the bathroom. And the only comments were rational. "Good Morning"; "I think I would like a shower"; "Thanks for getting the new TV it was a good choice and I will tell Pat so in the morning." When asked if we had any adventures in his dreams he said not last night. So no sleep and no dreaming the first night without Tylenol PM. I think there is a connection.

The TV has LSD in it and I think that is what made him happy.

March 22, 2008

Irregular Patterns

The rash is back. Yesterday it was a 12' strip above his waist on the back. Then it disappeared during the day. Last night there were measle-like spots up to his neck. It itches, comes and goes and looks very mean when it appears. Almost worse than nurses with blue eyes coming from the toilet.

I was told that we had to get the boys organized to finish the raking and then pay them today. Two hours later he is wondering when we get the fish dinners. Last Friday we got take outs and ate at home. Since he hopes every day is Friday so we can have a party, he has mentioned the dinner a number of times already today.

Each bedtime he takes an "amercit" pill to slow the digression. And we added two Tylenol PM to help regulate the sleep. Almost a month now and I can't find any pattern. After an NBA game last night where he told me about one of the players who wasn't doing well but got traded and is now a star he went to sleep about 10pm. Up at 2:30. Then slept until 8am. So 41/2 hours and then 51/2. Often the first sleep is closer to 6 hrs. Perhaps instead of my old linear cause and effect thinking I should become more familiar with chaos theory.

Punishment and Praise

I was yelled at and berated for not being around until 6pm. I explained that this was what we had been doing for the past forever but then came a few hours of silent treatment and curt responses to my attempts at conversation. He must have got it out of his system because after an early bed time he slept for nearly 8 hours.

When he awoke he was reluctant to put a shirt on because he said he still had feces all over him. Someplace on Tug Hill in a parking lot with the music playing he was being watched by other men because he was covered. I came to his rescue, took him to a shed and hosed him off. Two hours later after watching tv, taking two pills etc. he wanted me to follow him to the bathroom so he could clean his hands and eyes of the remaining mess. Still not quite awake.

Shortly after the teeth brushing and hand washing we sat at the kitchen table. I mentioned that we had quite a night in his dreams. He seemed to then realize that it was a dream. He said I'm not sure if it was heaven or hell, but he had asked Mitch Berry (recently deceased) to point me out in the crowd to come to his aid.

I like being the hero even in such a story.

Thankful

I was reminded from France to be thankful for the good things. Then we took a road trip today and Pat read our new president's similar sentiments. And it has been a good day. Sunday was long and boring and very cold. Dad went to bed at 8. Up at 2, 5, 6:30. No stories, just a friendly good morning each time and quickly back to bed. The last time I put a shirt and sweater on him thinking it was tv time but when I returned he had laid back down and caught another 1/2 hour of rest. He seldom moves while sleeping always on his right side. He ate an egg, toast, coffee, and two bacon after only snacking the past days. Meg was feeding him cookies when we left this morning. Heather just reported that they are watching animal planet and having a good time. Yes, I am thankful.

A good night. Asleep at 8. Up at 2am, 6am, and 7:30. No stories so apparently he was sleeping well. Left to fall into bed by himself he will be sideways. I put my right hand on his shoulder and lift legs with my left. Remember the high school physics fulcrum demo?

Things for you to do today: Make a legal will so the world knows who gets what when you are done with it. A health proxy gives someone the horrible position of being able to choose whether your leg should come off in the event you can not choose for yourself. A DNR tells the rescue squad that you think you have had enough so please don't plug me in to life support so that then my health proxy has to make that horrible decision. Other wise they have to do everything they can to keep you going. And the latest that I am not sure about yet. When the neighbors called 911 for advice the local ambulance squad had to be dispatched. Everyone knew that she does not want to be hospitalized, but if she had been unconscious then I think a DNR would have to be shown the ambulance people to prevent them from doing their all. And all of this legal stuff should be shown and available to your loved ones for use when the emergency occurs.

Dad does not fight me quite as much as time goes on. But there is his way of doing things for the past 94 years and other ways. Never mind that my way is more efficient. We must stand up to pull the shorts on, sit down, than stand up for the pants. Impossible to do both in one sitting.

The shower is a whole story line of its own. Too hot, too cold, no towel, wrong soap, three scratches on the left shoulder, etc. He insisted on putting a "little dab will do ya" of brillcream on his three clean hairs. The little dab being about the size of a softball. When I combed it back for him, he took the comb to fluff out the sides a bit.

Meg is making cookies today so he should have a good time smelling the goodies.

Factual Physiology

Factual physiology is the science of not figuring out what we don't know anyway about people and their bodies. I used to watch kids for long periods of time to try to figure out why they acted the way they do. Sometimes they would even offer up a clue. It's always on a gym day that the child screams they don't like school, etc. At first I took Dad at his word and tried to see a pattern or cause. At various times he has experienced an itchy rash around where his waist used to be, a pain in his abdomen, a tooth ache, hip pain, back pain, etc. Even his MD says these things come and go. And that's a fact.

Remember the walker and how he leans forward. Well, he also leads with his (usually right) side. If you are looking for a pattern here, forget it. It could as easily be with his left. Interestingly his grandfather walked determinedly sideways. And Dad says with his head down and scowling.

Lately he is easily out of breath. That causes a heavy chest movement and wheezing. Walking more than a few steps will do it. Working himself into what one grandchild terms a "huffy" will also bring it on.

Yesterday I could not find my hat. Pat is fond of picking things up and stowing them out of sight. So I grabbed a hat from the drawer. When I came in from blowing out the driveway Dad grinned and said I saw your mother doing the snowblowing.

We were all challenged by trying to best the 5th grader with Jeff Foxworthy. Dad did a three step calculation in his head to get the answer of 168. He knew the lightest noble gas was helium. The state south of Iowa (I forget) and that Pisaro has Lima, Peru named after him, and that Copenhagen is the capital of Denmark. When the show was over he headed for the bathroom and couldn't find it.

A new record of 8 uninterrupted hours was set last night. I am afraid that since we have a lady with him today that he seems not to like that we may pay with bad behavior tonight. But there I go again trying to gather enough clues to predict his behavior.

Life

They say that ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny. And I have read that we lose our senses in the reverse order that we get them. But who has such a list? Did you hear before you saw things? Does babbling count as talking? Who kept score and where did Mom put it? Or do these skills come in spurts or in a very short time window? Or is it a crock anyway?

At 3am Dad had cut a slice of ham to fry for breakfast. The rest of the ham was right there at the foot of the bed. Help yourself.

At 7am he was cleaning up the barn that had collapsed. A friend was helping him remove the tin. Pat put a shirt, sweater, shorts on him as he sat on the bed. When she went to get more clothes he lay down and went back to sleep to 8. He was still talking about the barn and said that Pat was a good worker and she probably had it cleaned up by now.

He speaks with such authority that if you were just listening in you would be looking for what he is talking about. He seems to believe in the reality of his thoughts and does not mention them later in the day when the brain clears a bit.

His right side was affected by the stroke years ago. He now walks with a lean to the right and that is the leg that gives out occassionaly. He asked me to catch him when he falls as he leaned with both elbows on the sink. We follow close behind as he walks. A walker is meant to be walked in. Stand between the handles so you can use your arms for support. Of course since he walks bent forward the walker is way out in front so if he falls the walker will be pushed away as he goes down.

He spent a day with Meg picking out cards for all of you. Today Pat is helping seal them.

Today was Christmas. He would not let Meg decorate the porch lights yesterday because Sara always did that and she was coming today. He seemed disappointed when Pat said he had to wait three weeks.

Work

Todays efforts have tired me out. We had a great night. Dad dosed in the chair and occassionaly commented on what we should be doing next. I drank beer, modeled polar bears ice dancing, and read the best Science and Nature writings of 2008. He went to bed at 9 and did not stir until 5am. The longest stretch ever of solid sleep.

At 5 he authoritatively explained that the road had flooded in the valley and we had to figure out a way to get it cleared. At 7 when he got up again there was a client who couldn't remember having paid the insurance bill and we had to get the receipts and figure that all out. (Man, am I ever glad to be away from that. Dancing bear models are more satisfying.)

Yesterday he did not eat much. Today he wanted a fried egg, toast, coffee. And there are all those cards ready to be mailed. Someone had to get stamps. I tried to stall him till tomorrow so Pat can include checks. And that is another thing. If he could find his checkbook he would try to balance the numbers. I explained that I had it hidden just so he would not play with the numbers.

And best of all after all this work, he asked about the neighbor's health across the road. Remember Mom's brain prevented her from feeling for others. Dad on the other hand will tear up telling a story and at appropriate tales.

Meg has taken over Dad's work load while I cleaned two driveways of last night's snow. Another road trip to the drug store, and then back to the art fun.

Life is Like the Weather

Life is like the weather. Sometimes we can predict and see it coming. Other times lightning comes out of nowhere. This afternoon we can see west to a very black sky. It is predictable that somewhere nearby, maybe here, there will be a storm. We know we are going to get older and weaker in some ways, but are not sure exactly how it will happen.

Dad has not eaten much today. He says his stomach is off. There are no symptoms. When I delivered Florida oranges from the school a while ago he wanted to try one. By the time the car was unloaded, he had eaten half of it.

When I showed him the local journal with the geese picture on the front page he seemed genuinely proud. Made me feel good.

I think he may be feeling poorly about the downhill slide of our neighbor who is not expected to linger much.

Stages in a Relationship

These notes are for you, not me. My education emphasised that it helps to share so that you and others know that you are not alone. We all go through this. And in the process you can get help with what you see as a unique problem, but in fact has common alternatives with simple solutions. I also realize that you have had experience with dying and death that I have not. So some of this may be cathartic, but I have Pat and CC for comfort and prefer to see these notes as possible help or alternatives for you someday.

I have thought that Dad was on the way out many times. Yet he recovers. But he recovers a little bit less each time. He may live another 94 years, but in many ways he will not be the same as we have known him. There are some common medical givens for all of us, but each seems to be unique in other ways. Part of my notes are how Dad seems unique to me, yet what I am learning about the common given medical facts.

For instance a couple goes through stages in a relationship. (Introduction, getting to know you, sharing, friends, etc, then ending) and groups go through the same stages. This was my masters paper at the Univ. of Roch. This is a "fact" and how it plays out in life imay be unique each time.

The fact is that there are many diseases not curable, but the pain relievers are available.

A few days ago I showed off the coming snow sculpture models to Marge Hanson across the road. She has chosen not to be treated by Chemicals or surgery. She walked into the kitchen and was very gracious. They had been to Frankenmuth after retirement on a bus trip. But Marge is taking pain medicine. Today she passed out and is resting. Perhaps the pain medicine contributed to the stroke/dizzy spell or whatever. Things can change rapidly.

As a personal aside I think I will never show any art again. I took a painting to show Elmer Hanson while he was bed-ridden. He also praised the art and encouraged the artist. And that day died. I couldn't help remembering that today while lifting his wife into the same bed only days after receiving similar paise.

Dad can be angry and hostile and then apologetic about his behavior. It is like he has no control, but later can reason about it. Pat was patient with him last night and went over his possible gifts for the coming season. This morning he mentioned to Meg how Pat had helped him sort things out. That bit of memory alone is a minor miracle.

In the night he insisted on a heating pad on his sore side. I promised it, tucked him back in bed, and he went to sleep.

Note: Plugging the heating pad in the same wall socket interfers with the monitor. So this morning after he got in his chair I offered the pad. In return for my thoughtfulness I was hollered at and learned a new word besides. So had he forgot about the "pain", or wasn't there any anyway, or had it gone away?

Adult Once, Child Twice

They say we are an adult once and a child twice. And as we all know we can not mention something casually around the children. Lately Pat and I have noticed that Dad's TV has a solid black line on peoples' faces. Since the TV is our old Zenith it may be going soon. Also it is fun to watch the adds to see if the $600 model is going lower in price. So last night while we settled in for another NBA game he asked when the delivery men were coming. He had waited all day and no one had showed. I asked what delivery. The new TV of course. Not only had he jumped to the conclusion that a new one was coming, but it had a whole story around it. It was a gift from him to us for Christmas.

And children are unpredictable. One never knows what to expect next. So last night's surprise was listening to full sentences about 3am. "Which one of the three do you think?" "I would pick that one." He never raised his head from the pillow, but the words to about 6 sentences were very clear. This is a first as far as I know.

There is no one moment when I realized that Dad was not the omniscient, omnipotent, being that I always knew. But now we take what he says with caution. It may be true. Or it may be remembered. Or totally made up from new chemical brain connections. "It's freezing in here." as he sits naked on the side of the bed in a 75F house. So he puts on a sweatshirt and 10 minutes later is wrestling to remove all the weight.

But for sure it is in his nature to be generous, hard working, and to like kids. This morning at 5am.he told me that we had been traveling and came across some children building a workbench to sell lemonade. They were struggling so we stopped to help. With 20 penny nails we built it strong for their future. Now wasn't that kind of us?

A few days ago he awoke and pointed out that he had been making butter and it was spread out on the bed. Could we please get some waxed paper and cover it up.

One day he had been alphabetizing folders and had dropped an envelope. I had to find it and return it to the proper file.

He is concerned today with the news that the Rutland Community center building is being given to someone to take down. They had meetings and dances there. And last night the Tylerville church building collapsed under the weight of snow. His sister's family were married there and he and I had painted the inside 50+ years ago.

A great night last night. A solid 7 hour sleep. The longest in memory.

Meg and Heather

We try to keep him amused during the day. His two women, Meg Noll, 50ish 10-3 and Heather Merrill, 40ish 3-6 play music and talk. He seems to relax with Meg and try to entertain Heather. The nights are broken into about 2 hour shifts where he wakes up, gets up to the side of the bed, then decides he has to go the bathroom. The Norwegian cow bell that dangles from his walker and just happens to be near the bed where he can't get up without moving it alerts me even if the baby monitor has not already.

So the first medicine we introduced was Tylenol pm to try to get a night's rest. Again there is no pattern or predictabily. The longest we manage so far is 6 hours. A few nights ago he was watching an NBA game. He knew who was playing and some of the guys names and wanted to see how the game ended. It was already 10:30 and I was dragging, but he then slept until 5am. The next morning he remembered who played and who won.

Of course what we want is a knockout pill for 8 hours and then wake refreshed. Sort of how a normal nights sleep works. And of course there is no such thing. As my Dr. pointed out, whenever you take any medicine (man made poison) there are side effects. For instance a prescribed sleep medicine might make Dad more drousy during the day too. And the medicine's magic effect is cummulative. One beer tastes great. Ten is not so good. And thirdly, the medicine may have unknown effects when taken with other medicines. Don't mix beer and whiskey on the same night.

He seems to have dreams and mostly he is working. Getting the snowmobile fixed. Buying a shiny red car. Sorting files into alphabetical order. Smoothing the pile of sheets on the bed. He will point to the bed and get hostile with me if I am not finding the envelope that he lost. Usually I can get away with telling him I found it and all is well. We have ended up in a shouting match in the wee-wee hours. The next day he would apoligize for being so angry.

So no new sleep helpers, but I understand the zombies in nursing homes.

Aging

This past summer Dad fell a few times. Once straight down on his nose. He could not get his arms under himself to get up and if Brenda had not been there he would have been found there in the morning. The last time he fell from the chair in the driveway. This was when we were leaving him alone for short periods and he was still much more mobile. So that is my current concern to not let him fall or at least have someone there when he does.

The Dr. thought out loud like this: He may have fainted because his heart skipped and the oxygen to his brain was interrupted. But because of his age we can't operate. He may have a brain problem but again we can't operate. So we are left with the quess that his mind is going due to aging. He thinks he can stand up and run, but his body is not responding and he falls

Yesterday he was complaining about the lady that was due to care for him that day. She is older and doesn't play sweet-talk like the other two care givers. He said, "If it is my time to die, I will do it whether she is here or not." I agreed, but explained that I would prefer he die in peace dreaming of sex and snowmobiling rather than in pain on the floor.

Over the past few years there have been a number of times when I was sure he was all done and was on the downhill side of life. After the broken nose he complained of pain in his side for weeks. He was not very active and looked bad. But he came back. However, each episode seems to take away a small something. Perhaps not identifiable at the time, but looking back, his total abilities are very much fewer now than a year ago.

This natural aging process takes time and is gradual, but persistently downhill. The Dr. gave a pill to help the chemical brain processes, but explained that the process is not going to change, it just may take a bit longer. And the behavior is erratic and not a straight line progression. In fact it sometimes takes giant steps.

A few weeks ago he went to Fort Drum (one of the largest Army bases) with Heather in her truck to pick up Andy who is in the Army. The guard leaned into the truck and asked, "How are you Mr. Merrill?" So now there is a story for Dad to tell. The three of them went to a restaurant where his pants fell down on the way in. Andy grabbed his belt and hoisted the pants and him. A second story to tell. When I showed up about 6pm the three of them were retelling the stories. Dad was telling jokes and making plays on words. You would have seen him as he was about 30 years ago. When they left about 7pm he retired to his chair. I exacted a promise to stay there while I went out in the garage.

About three minutes later I found him pulling the covers back on his bed. I explained the hour and said it was not bedtime. He yelled, cursed and called me names and explained that he was looking for a place to take a piss. So five hours of being lucid and suddenly he can't find the bathroom.

My Father, Your Grandfather

I plan to write you four grandchildren fairly regularly about my father, your grandfather. Partly this is because I am trained to teach. What he is experiencing is not new, but as with most developmental stages we think we are the only one while it is happening. Think of the growing stages of children. This end of life stage is like that. We all go through it somehow.

I will put the subject as Dad each time so that you can read my missives or not.