Time Flies

My college mate, Per, is visiting from Norway. He brought a letter that Dad wrote to him about 46 years ago inviting him to come to Rodman for the holidays. It was signed also by Mom, but Dad did the writing. Apparently Mom also wrote an invitation to Karin. Dad seems happy to see Per and is entertaining him with jokes and tales. Maybe all he needs to live forever is an appreciative audience.
Per and I were up till about midnight at camp when there was a loud crash. Dad had somehow moved a dresser and fell to the floor. The dresser is about all that Pat and I can move together and it was pushed up to the bed to prevent his falling. About 2 hours later when he was trying to get up he thought to give me a call. The blood stopped flowing from his arm and near his eye pretty quickly, but today he walks a bit stiffly.
Pat has been feeding us pretty fancy meals and always gives Dad his bacon, eggs, toast, jam. Here he is this morning waiting for the goodies.

Tuesday, like all others

Since I have given up trying to reason why I will just try to be descriptive. Dad seems to be slipping. He described a problem that I was to get on immediately. I tried to put him off until he was fully awake. About 3pm I asked him about it and he explained what I should be doing to correct the situation. Still mixing reality with the dream. I'm glad it was an imaginary problem. The papers we needed were thrown in the toilet which was locked in the safe.
Yesterday, Erika Ebeling, was singing to him and she forget the words to "Clementine." Dad provided the next verse.
I waited two days this past weekend to catch him lucid so we could have the son-father talk and never found a moment when I thought it possible.
He has been more abusive verbally lately. More swearing, more putting people down for what they are doing, more loud talking, just more negative all around. Not pleasant to be his caregiver.
He still tries to be kind to the sleeping caregiver by silencing his bell as he pushes the walker with the wheels locked. I found him already in the bathroom twice this week. If he is so far gone in the head, how come I can't figure out a way to hide the bell from his clever detection.
The lump on his leg still is apparent in the morning and disappears by the evening.
The "shingles" spots are still visible but not cause for complaint anymore.
Dad sleeps more during the day, yet puts in about 8 continuous hours at night.
He is proud of my trying to play the guitar, but critical of everything else that I can do. I should have paid more attention to the correct way the past 67 years. To Dad the lawn does not need mowing, nor the house painted. It was just recently done.

Go Figure

I am learning that there are medical miracles that modern science can perform. Think hip replacements, heart stints, thyroid replacement medicines, etc. and then there are the many unexplained ailments that may afflict us all. Dad is suffering the last affects of Shingles again. First about 10 days of pain around the middle (like broken ribs) then a rash that only itches the third Tues. of leap year and then only for a day. And now the rash is healing and his back is super sensitive to touch. "Itch my back, but don't touch it."
And there is a lump on his lower leg in the morning that is painful to touch. It swells to the size of 1/2 a tennis ball. It is purple and red and has a definite circular shape. It is on his left leg that is partially swollen most of the time from the stroke many years ago. By nighttime it is gone. Only to reappear the next morning. Go figure that one.
He seems to be getting more out of the here and now more there and then. He came to dinner, sat on his walker, facing away from the table. He sits on the john with his clothes still on. He forgets the day and what we are doing next. But he still remembers old time tales and he knows he is always right whatever the topic.