Good Days...

A few weeks ago when we needed to turn back our clocks, I was a little worried that dad would now be getting confused earlier in the evenings. At first I was pleasantly surprised...dad did really well adjusting. I was excited for the good days, but knew they wouldn't last. Usually when dad has unusually good dads it means we are in for a few bad days and a dip in his abilities down the road. 

Things are back to normal now...whatever that means...and the regular routine of dad's sundowning and being confused in the evening has returned. It seems he gets a certain idea or concept stuck in his head and can't quit asking about it. I feel so bad for him, lately by 8:00 he is so tired out from the confusion that he starts asking about going to bed. I worry about having him go to bed that early, because I'm afraid he'll start wandering later when everyone's in bed. So far so good though.

Tonight was one of those nights when he was just so tired you could see it on his face, so when he asked how soon bedtime was I said, "Right now" and showed him where his room is. After he was changed and ready to lay down we knelt to say prayers. Dad asked, "Who said it last night?" For a while I used to say I did most of the time, because I felt like if he was the one saying the prayer most of the time it would help him continue to remember how to pray. Lately though there have been a few times he was unable to complete the prayer...the other night as he started rambling he caught himself and said, "I apologize, I'm wasting time" then looked up at me and asked if I'd finish the prayer. Tonight, I told him it was his turn and he gave such a beautiful prayer that it brought tears to my eyes.  Dad prays with such gratitude for all that he has, but what really got me was how thankful he was "for all that was good in our day today." He mentioned it several times in different ways, but it made me grateful that he had no memory of how confused he was. He just remembered that Heavenly Father had blessed him with a good day!

Dad seems to be getting more and more confused every day. He continues to have a hard time completing a sentence, because he either forgets the word he wants or just can't keep the thought in his head long enough to finish his sentence. There have been a couple of days when he didn't even get out of bed, except to eat. He wouldn't want to change, so he'd come out to eat in his pj's then go back in his room and lay back down as soon as he was done eating. Dressing is beginning to be harder for him also, not so much because he can't do it as much as he forgets what he's doing while in the middle of getting dressed. There have also been a few times when he has tried to put his pajama bottoms on like a shirt. 

Yesterday was a good day though. He was able to get dressed for church without too much help. Dad needed to go to the bathroom between meetings, so he and Eli were a little late coming in to Sacrament meeting. The opening hymn and prayer were both over before they sat down with us. 

Then today I received the following message on facebook from a friend. "Michelle, I just wanted to share something that really touched me yesterday. As usual, we were sitting in our back of the chapel pew :) and Eli and your Dad walked into the chapel during the song. Your Dad immediately started singing the song, as he knew the words. That alone touched me, that he remembered the words to the song, but then the opening prayer was said. He stopped, right where he was, bowed his head and remained there until the prayer was done. I'm not sure why it touched me so much, but it did. I know he struggles, and that just kind of hit me. Thought I would share it with you. :)"

Even though he forgets my name and the fact that I'm his daughter, he continues to be an example to me of what it means to have the Gospel engrained into your very being.

What Did You Say?

Dad's been going through phases lately where some days he will be in the middle of saying something or asking a question and before he gets to the end of the sentence he forgets the next word he is wanting to say or forgets what he was talking about completely. But for the past couple of days he has also started talking nonsense. 

He and I  are sitting in the living-room watching TV and a few minutes ago he said, "I've got things to do tomorrow." When I asked him what he meant he said, "Well I've got to feed the chickens." When he says things like that to me, I think maybe he's back in Idaho on the farm. 

Then Tanner walked though the room, and dad said, "Will you remind those little ones to keep their hands out of my pouches." I just replied, "I don't think you need to worry, I don't think they even know about them." When he says things like that I'm not quite sure what he's talking about. I think maybe he's stuck between now and the past. The problem I have is trying to figure out how to respond to those odd comments. Sometimes I can figure out something to go along with what he's saying. Other times I have to admit, I have no idea how to respond, so I pretend I didn't hear him. 

Our Daily Bread...

Dad has always said beautiful prayers and even as he is losing SO much of his memory, he still gives a pretty good prayer. 

At bedtime I usually get dad started getting his pajamas on and then I go get mine on too. Then I go back and get his dentures soaking, he puts his glasses away and gets in bed, and I turn out the light. One evening a few weeks ago I got sidetracked after getting my jammies on and took a bit longer getting back to help him. When I opened the door dad was kneeling at his bed saying his prayers. When he heard me he looked up and invited me to join him and then invited me to say the prayer. So began a new nightly routine. Now after dad is ready for bed, we say a prayer together before he lays down. A few weeks ago it was dad's turn to pray and he started his prayer, "Our Father who art in Heaven..." and continued to recite the first half of the Lord's Prayer before adding his own words. Then a few nights ago he bagan the same way, but added his own words after just the first lien of the prayer. 

Tonight it was dad's turn to bless dinner and he recited all of the Lord's Prayer...good thing it asks Him to bless our daily bread. 

A Conversation with Dad...

Dad: How old are you now Michelle?

Me: 51

Dad: How old?

Me: 51

Dad: Really!?

Me: Yep

Dad: I didn't realize you were that much older than Verna and I

Shoelaces...

Every time I slip a pair of shoes with laces off or on without untying them first, I hear dad's voice telling me I'm going to ruin my shoes. It always bugged dad to see me just slip my shoes on or off without undoing the laces, and he was always sure to tell me that I was going to ruin them.

Because he can still dress himself with prompts we usually aren't in the room with him as he puts on his shoes, but I am often in his room with him as he gets undressed and ready for bed. One night about a month ago as he was getting ready to take off his shoes, the laces were knotted then wrapped around his ankle and knotted again. At the time it didn't really dawn on me that he couldn't remember how to tie a bow, so he just tied a knot and then wrapped the extra length of the laces around his ankle. Then on a couple of other evenings I noticed that he had tied his shoelaces in a knot and tucked them into his shoe. That's when the light-bulb went on and I realized he's forgetting how to tie his shoes. Now if I'm in his room as he's tying his shoes, I'll volunteer to do it for him. 

Yesterday we were all busy getting ready for church, so I just laid out dad's clothes and went to finish getting myself ready. When I came back to check on him, he was ready to go and his shoes had bows!

Dad has consistently lost weight since being diagnosed with dementia. Not having any saliva glands probably played a part in it. Mom would try to get him to drink Ensure, but he didn't like the taste. When he first moved to Utah he was weighing 157 and has continued to lose weight. We have tried several things, having him drink Ensure Plus with every meal, adding butter to his oatmeal,  feeding him softer foods that are easier on his dentures, but dad had continued to lose weight. At his doctor's appointment in February his weight was 130. That's a loss of 27 pounds in under three years, so Dr. Duros ran some tests and found that dad's thyroid was high (or low...I forget which) and prescribed some thyroid medicine. At his appointment on Tuesday, dad's weight was 141! Yeah! Eleven pounds up. Maybe we will need to start buying new, bigger pants again.

Last night was a hard one. No matter how hard he tried dad could not complete a sentence...he just couldn't keep the thought in his head long enough to finish. The hardest part is that he is aware something is not right with him. It breaks my heart to hear him say he "feels like a penny waiting for change."

One Thing Leads to Another...

There are two things that really bug dad...a full trashcan and weeds. Earlier today as dad was walking through the kitchen he noticed the trash was getting close to being full, so he volunteered to take it out. I reminded him to put it in the black trashcan next to the truck and then watched through the window. Dad almost made it all the way to the trashcan before a fallen branch distracted him...it was rainy and windy last night which left the yard littered with small branches, walnuts and clumps of leaves that had fallen from the trees. Realizing his hands were full and he could not pick up the branch, he set the bag down and started picking up the branches, leaves and walnuts that were scattered across the grass.

A Daughter's Observations...What A Difference Three Years Makes

Dad moved to Utah a couple days before his 81st birthday in April of 2009 and spent almost a year at Courtyard at Jamestown before moving in with us in March of 2010. Jamestown was a very nice facility and took great care of dad, but he was just not quite ready to be there, so after remodeling a bedroom, we had him move in with us.

Then: We live across the street from an elementary school and park. When dad first moved in with us, he could walk around the park and back home on his own. We would just have to remind him to keep an eye on the red truck and come back to it when he was done walking...it was kinda cute to watch him walk a few yards, turn to see where the truck was, walk a bit more and then check to make sure he could still see the truck.

Now: Slowly, dad started forgetting to watch for the truck and would just kind of wander, so now someone needs to walk with him when he goes for his walks.

Then: Dad is a weed puller. I'm not sure when it started, but somewhere along the way dad became almost obsessed with pulling weeds. When walking, if there is a weed growing in the cracks or at the edge of the side walk, dad has to stop and pull it. Well, our yard is large and full of weeds, so dad was in luck. Plus, in the fall he had tons of walnuts that had fallen out of our walnut trees that he could fill his cart with...we got him a little gardening cart that he could pull along and fill as he was working in the yard. We could even go in the house and leave just the screen door closed to check on him occasionally.

Now: If dad is out in the yard, someone needs to be out there with him. There have been a couple of times that he got so busy pulling weeds, that he worked his way into our neighbor's yard and couldn't figure out where he was when things didn't look familiar. Not to mention the time he somehow got stuck between the fence and one of the old trees growing on the hill that goes down to the back yard...I still can't figured out how he got there.

Then: When dad first moved to Utah and asked "When am I going home?" he meant to California.

Now: When dad asks, "When am I going home?" he is talking about Idaho. In fact, last night when he asked about "Home" I decided to do a little experiment and asked, "Do you mean to California or Idaho?" He replied, "Idaho of coures, I've only ever been to California for visits, besides being stationed there a few times aboard ship."

Then: We had regular locks on our doors and didn't need to worry too much about dad wandering outside unnoticed.

Now: We have deadbolts that require a key from both sides on both the front and back doors. One Sunday when I went in at 8 a.m. to wake up dad to get ready for church he wasn't in bed. He also wasn't in either bathroom or his closet. We found him outside in the backyard, in his jammies and tennis shoes, pulling weeds in our lower yard...we had no idea how long he'd been out there. We promptly changed the lock on the front door, but didn't worry about the back door, because it's hard to open and dad doesn't use it...so we thought. Until one day there was a knock at the front doorbell and when we answered the door it was dad! He had gone out the back door and worked his way around the house pulling weeds and then couldn't figure out why the door was locked when he needed to go the bathroom.

Then: When it was bedtime, dad could take care of getting himself ready for bed. He always keeps his jammies under his pillow, so when he was ready for bed he did it himself. Later as he started forgetting why he was in his room, you could just lay out his pj's and leave him to get ready for bed.

Now: If you don't stay with dad and remind him what he's doing, he starts puttering around and doing other stuff, then goes to bed in his clothes.

Then: Dad knew I was his daughter, Michelle and would brag to strangers where ever we were...the store, the doctors office or the gas station.."That's my daughter" even though I hadn't really done anything to brag about.

Now: Quite often dad thinks I'm his sister Verna, or just knows I'm a nice girl taking care of him and will start to flirt with me. So now whenever he compliments me, I say "Thanks dad" to which his usual reply is "Am I really your dad?" The other day he asked me, "Have you seen mom lately?" I knew he was talking about his mom, so I just said, "No, not lately"

When dad was first diagnosed with this awful disease, I used to wonder how long it would take for him to completely forget us. Now I see that it is happening in stages. There will be periods of time when he seems to "get it" and knows us and remembers that I'm his daughter and Connor and Tanner are his grandsons, and then all of a sudden he doesn't know who we are...it's just that the periods are getting farther and farther apart.

On Duty...

As I was heading to bed at 1:30 this morning, I noticed dad's bedroom light on. Sometimes in the middle of the night he gets up to go the bathroom and leaves the light on, so I opened the door to check on him & turn the light off. There was dad just standing there in his jammies with his shoes on. I told him him it was almost 2 o'clock in the morning and he should go back to bed. He replied that he didn't know where his glassess were. I told him they were right on the lampshade where he hangs them every night before bed, but that he didn't need them right now because it's the middle of the night and he needed to go back to bed.

Dad walked over to the lamp, picked his glasses, and put them on. Once again I reminded him that it was the middle of the night and he should go back to bed. I even thought that telling him he was up pretty early today and that his body should be tired and ready for bed might coax him, but nope...he just looked at me and told me. "I've got duty." So I joined his reality and said, "if you've got duty you better get to bed so you'll be rested."

Dad just stood there looking at me very seriously for a while, then very politely said, "You need to leave." I told him I was waiting for him to get in bed, so I could turn the light off for him. This time he took a few steps closer and said "You need to leave, I'm on duty." Realizing I was not going to be able to win on this one I just told him, "Okay, but stay in your room" and left his room. I then made sure the front door was locked (all our door locks require a key, so dad can't just turn a button and wander out) and went to bed. 

Two hours later when I went to check on him, he was in bed with the covers over his head and the light still on...I guess his shift was over! 

You Like Your Mother...

My father is a twin. He and his sister Verna were the third set of twins born to his parents. As I was growing up, I was often told that I looked like my Aunt Verna when she was younger

Last night as dad and I were watching TV, he looked at me and said, "You look like your mother"... "She was a pretty lady, Jessie Matilda Thomas." Jessie Matilda Thomas is my grandmother...dad was thinking I was his twin sister Verna. He does that quite a bit lately. 

HaPPY BiRTHDaY!

Today is dad's 84th birthday and to celebrate his doctor gave him an $800 shot in the behind. 

Originally dad's follow-up appointment was scheduled for Tuesday, but the doctor ended up needing to reschedule due to a surgery. I didn't want to wait too much longer for the results, and since there was an opening today we took it. 

Before giving him the shot the doctor gave us some really good news...the biopsy was benign with no signs of malignancy. The shot was a hormone to help reduce the size of his prostate...which is three times larger than it should be. The doctor said the shot would last three months and shrink the prostate by 50% in six weeks. He said that the most effective way to repair it would be surgery. When I mentioned dad's age and said I wasn't sure he could physically handle a surgery, the doctor mentioned that he agreed because it would be major surgery. 

As for the mass in his right kidney, they will do an ultrasound in three months to check and see if there has been any growth. I am really not to worried though because dad's PSA level is 6.71, which the doctor will check again in three months as well, but he said that normal for a man dad's age is 6.54, and he would expect it to be in the 600's if dad had cancer.

Eli and the boys took dad out to lunch for his birthday while I was at work, and then we all took him out for dinner too. My nephew Spencer (who is attending BYU) and his new bride Nikki were able to join us...It was good to see them, even if dad couldn't figure out why they were calling him grandpa. 

I have been getting weekly newsletter emails from caring.com and this weeks letter talked about how good laughter is for the stress of caregiving, as well as for the person being cared for, so I have to share...tonight as we sat down to the table to eat, dad said, "I feel like I've fallen on my hind quarters." And I told him, "That's because you had an $800 shot in the butt today." He said, "I did?" and after I confirmed he had, he said "That's the kind of thing I don't mind forgetting!"

No Malignancy...

Dad's appointment to talk to the doctor about the results of the biopsy is not until Thursday, but thanks to modern technology I received an email today stating "You have an important update regarding your health from Central Utah Clinic." I quickly logged into the portal to dad's medical records and there was a note that 42 results had been added to his health record. The reason there were 42 records was because each of the six samples had several results...the Diagnosis box on all of them stated, "Benign prostate tissue showing glandular atrophy with chronic inflammation. NO EVIDENCE OF MALIGNANCY. 

YAY! This is good news. Thursday we will find out what needs to be done to treat dad's enlarged prostate. Still not sure about the dark spot in his liver or the dark spots throughout his bones, but I'll take this good news for now.

Let the Waiting Begin...

Dad had his biopsy today. Wow! As we walked into the office the nurse had already set up the room and the tools were sitting on a little table by the examination table. The one that caught my eye was the needle looking thing that was about 12 inches long. Beside it was some kind of probe type instrument.

When Dr. Crowley came in he explained that the probe-like instrument was an ultrasound machine and would help to see what's going on. It was kind of funny, because once dad was laying on his side and ready for the procedure, Dr. Crowley apologized as he was inserting it because it was cold. To which dad said, "Yeah, but it's still there."

As he was taking the pictures of the prostate Dr. Crowley showed me how the prostate was crowding out the bladder. Then after taking some pictures and measurements, he stuck the needle up inside the ultrasound wand and took six samples.

When he was done, he said that he didn't really think this is cancer. He said that with most men that have prostates as big as dad's their PSA levels are in the 600's, and from what he could see and dad's PSA levels, he was hopeful that this was not cancer. Yay! When I asked about what they saw in the bones and the kidney, he said we would have to do a few more test to see if we can figure out what they are.

The results for tests like these take a week, so we will find out next week what they are.

No Triposy...

One morning in mid-February, as dad was getting dressed, Eli noticed blood on dad's under garment and also on his penis. When I called to make a doctor's appointment the doctor didn't have any openings for a few days, so he asked us to bring dad in for a urinalysis in order to have the results back before the appointment.

A few days later when we saw the doctor the results of the urinalysis showed no signs of infection. As the doctor was getting ready to examine dad, he said he had two questions for me. The first being, "Has he been in much pain?" To which my answer was that it's hard to tell, because most of the time when dad complains about any kind of pain, by the time I get him an Ibuprofen or Aspirin he has forgotten what I was getting it for. The second question was, "If this is not an infection and proves to be something more, how would you proceed?" Knowing that "something more" meant cancer, my answer was that we would let it run it's course and manage dad's pain and discomfort. (I know that might sound harsh, but dad was always so proud of his memory and to see him getting more lost and confused every day just breaks my heart.)

After hearing my answer doctor Duros said, "This is not an infection. It is something more." He ordered a blood test to check dad's PSA levels (PSA stands for Prostate-Specific Antigen and is used to detect prostate cancer), and a CT of dad's pelvic region. The doctor's office has a lab, so they were able to draw his blood after the appointment. We scheduled the CT for a week later.

The CT scan was scheduled for 1:00 on a Friday. It took quite a bit of time too, dad had to drink some stuff over a 45 minute period and then wait another 15 before they took him back; then he had a reaction to the dye during the procedure, so they wanted to watch him for another 1/2 hour after the scan was done. As I was waiting in the dressing cubicle, the radiologist walked someone else out from having something done. He was telling him that usually he gets the results to the doctor within 24 hours, but since it was Friday, he probably wouldn't get the results to the doctor until Monday.

It was 3:00 as I dropped dad off at the house and headed back to work, and just as I was turning off our street I remembered I'd left my cell phone at home. I considered going back for it, but decided I would be back home in 2 hours and anyone that might need to get a hold of me would also have my work number...I should have listened to that prompting to go back! At 5:15 when I got home, there was a voicemail on my cell. The doctor's office had called at 3:45 to discuss the results of the CT and wanted me to call back. Darn, I had to wait the whole weekend.

I called the doctor's office first thing Monday morning, but the girl at the front desk said she couldn't give me any information and I would have to wait for the nurse to call me back...she never did! Tuesday morning I called again and when the receptionist tried to tell me the nurse would call me back, I told her that's what I had been told the day before, but she never did, so was there someone else that I could talk to. I was on hold for a while, but the nurse finally came to the phone...only to tell me that the doctor wanted to discuss the results in person. Really? Why couldn't the receptionist tell me that? Doctor Duros had an opening that afternoon, so I took it.

Dr. Duros informed us that dad's PSA was at 6.71 and normal for a man dad's age is 6.54, so his PSA was up, but not much. It was the CT scan that had Dr. Duros worried. It showed his prostate to be rather enlarged, a dark mass in his left kidney, and dark spots of "unknown origin" throughout his bones. He said he was surprised dad wasn't in more pain, because it looks like he might possibly have prostate cancer that has already metastasized to his bones. He said studies have found a connection between prostate cancer and testosterone, and discovered that an anti-testosterone therapy can slow or stop the development of the cancer. He said a Urologist would probably want to do a biopsy before starting any therapy though, so his nurse made an appointment with a urologist for us.

I hadn't told Suzy or Norman about any of this. I was waiting to get the results of the CT scan, just in case it wasn't anything to worry about. When I called Suzy, she said it was going to be Spring Break for them next week and since Ryan and Spencer had birthdays coming up they had been toying with the idea of coming to Provo. So since they were in town, Suzy came with dad & I to the doctor's appointment. We figured she could help to distract dad while I spoke with the doctor, because I don't want dad to know he's got cancer. Even though dad's memory is getting shorter and shorter he has a tendency to fixate on one thing and ask about it all day long. I really don't want to be answering questions all day long about who it is that has cancer.

Dr. Crowley, was very nice even though he didn't really understand my not wanting dad to know about the cancer. When Dr. Crowley pulled dad's CT scan up on the computer and started showing it to me and explaining what I was seeing, Suzy started asking dad about his shoes...she's so clever! The scan showed that dad's prostate is so big it is crowding out his bladder. Dr. Crowley explained that if a normal prostate held 50 liters dad's had 180, so I could have an idea of just how oversized it was. He said he wanted to do a biopsy of the prostate, but that probably the only way of telling what the dark mass in the kidney was would be to go in and cut it out. I told him that I didn't think we would want to put dad through surgery, but the biopsy would be a good way to get some answers. He then asked if it was okay to tell dad he wanted to perform a biopsy.

Dad always worries when I take him to the doctor's that they are going to want to "cut on him." So when Dr. Crowley rolled his chair over to be sitting across from dad and said, "I would like to do a biopsy on you to see if we can get some answers about what is wrong with you. Would that be okay?" I was not surprised at all by dad's answer. Dad told him, "Well just as long as that's all you do. I don't want you saying you're going to do a biopsy and then getting in there and doing a triopsy." Of course Dr. Crowley promised he wouldn't.

Don't Forget to Pray...

Growing up, dad never forgot to pray. At the beginning and ending of every day, before every meal, at before any trip we had a prayer.

At mealtime, after we bless the food and begin to eat, it is not uncommon to see dad saying an individual blessing on his food, because he's forgotten we already blessed the meal.

Often in the evening as I am helping dad get ready for bed and he is being really slow, I will go upstairs and put on my pajamas while dad is finishing getting his on. If I get side-tracked and am too slow, it is not uncommon for me to find dad kneeling beside his bed saying his evening prayers. One evening not too long ago, after finding dad saying his prayers, I posted to facebook "I love that even though my dad is losing his memory and sometimes forget my name, he never forgets to pray!"

We got our family pictures taken a while back and the photographer wanted to get a few of dad and I together. Dad wasn't really following directions very well though, and at one point she suggested I bend over and kiss dad on the forehead. It turned out to be one of my favorite pictures, so I made it my profile picture on facebook.

The other day I received a message from a friend that had just seen the picture. She wrote: Love your profile picture! It reminded me of two things: First, probably my all-time favorite FB post from anyone is when you said you love how your dad may forget your name but he never forgets to pray. And second, last Sunday, it was so sweet to see him just sitting there, and then sometimes during the hymns he would just automatically start singing. He is a great example to me of having the gospel ingrained into your very being!

Funny how even as his memory is deteriorating, dad still continues to be an example.

Our usual routine at bed time is that I lay out dad's jammies for him and then while he is changing I turn down his bed, get his denture cup ready, and put the clothes he has taken off either in the hamper or back on a hanger (this helps to prevent him getting dressed in the middle of the night). Last night as we were going through the routine, dad was very appreciative of all I was doing for him and after thanking me for taking care of his dentures, he asked me if I'd marry him. I reminded him I was his daughter and that might not be a good idea. Then after we said prayers and he was getting under the covers, he asked me if I was going to sleep in his bed with him. I told him, "No, my bedroom is upstairs." To which he replied, why go all the way upstairs when there's a perfectly good bed here. Then after I reminded him I was his daughter, he said "Oh, then I'm glad you realize that's not a good idea."

Mickey's Memories...

Last night Eli and I needed to make a quick run to WalMart for a couple of things and as we were walking past the air freshener Eli said, "We are almost out of fufu."

When Eli came home with me once, before we were married, he overheard dad call the air freshener fufu and it stuck...sad part is, now dad doesn't know what your talking about if you call it fufu.

Sunday Morning with Dad...

Me: Good Morning Dad. Time to get up and get ready for church.

Dad: Oh, today's Sunday?

Me: Yep, and it's time to get ready for church.

Dad: I don't think I want to go to church.

Me: Why not?

Dad: I just don't want to.

Me: Ok, well it's time to get dressed. Want me to get your white shirt out for you?

Dad: Oh...is today Sunday?

Me: Yep.

Dad: Are you going to church?

Me: I thought it might be a good idea.

Dad: Ok, let's do it!

Tonight I experienced a bit of what the future holds for dad...it was not pretty, in fact it kind of scared me.

After dinner tonight, I went up to my bedroom to write a film review for a music class I am taking. At about 9:00 p.m. I could hear dad puttering around in his room, so I went down to check on him. Oh my!

Let me begin by saying dad always makes his bed. Lately he hasn't been doing as good a job, but I still let him do it. (mostly because I'm afraid if I do it for him he will forget how) When I walked into his room the bed was no longer made...it.was.a.MESS! The bedspread and blankets were going every which way, half on and half off the bed, and his TV tray was laying on the bed with some of the blankets twisted through the legs. Dad was standing there, with his pajama shirt on in-side-out and over his regular shirt, staring at his dresser with a lost look on his face.

When I said, "Oh, what happened here?" he said he didn't know. I asked if he was ready to go to bed, and he said he was, so I showed him that he had his regular shirt on under his jammie shirt. I told him to go ahead and take off both shirts and we would start over. Then while he was taking off the shirts I went to get his denture cup from the bathroom. When I came back into the bedroom, he had taken off the jammie shirt and unbuttoned the other shirt, but was just standing there, like he couldn't remember what he was doing. I reminded him that he needed to finish taking off the shirt so he could change into his pj's. As I was putting the shirt in his hamper (which is in his closet) he started to put on his jammie shirt. When I came out of the closet, dad was trying to pull the jammie shirt over his head, but he had his arms going into the sleeves through the neck of the shirt. I helped him get his arms out, then turned it around and told him it would be easier if he put his arms up through the bottom where there was more room. But as I was trying to give it to him to do, he just looked at me, so I helped him get his arms into the sleeves and pulled it over his head. I told him next he needed to take off his pants, and put on his pajama bottoms, so he sat down on the bed and started pulling at the bottoms of his pant legs. I told him that wouldn't work, that he needed to stand up, so he stood up and started pulling down at the thigh area of the pant legs and when nothing happened he started pulling on the crotch area. WOW! Was this the man that woke up at 4 o'clock this morning and dressed himself? I asked if he wanted some help, and he said yes, then sat down on the bed. I told him it would be easier if he was standing up, but he just looked at me like he didn't understand what I was saying. I tried to help him stand up, but he put his feet straight out in front of him, so he ended up falling back on the bed. After that happened, I told him to stay laying down while I undid the button and zipper, then I lifted his legs up and pulled on his pockets to get the pants out from under him. When it came time to put on his jammie bottoms, he was a little more helpful. I got his legs into the pantlegs and then he was able to stand and pull them up with some coaching.

Next came the dentures. The usual routine is that I hand him the denture cup and ask him to put his dentures in it, so I can soak them. Tonight as I handed him the denture cup and asked him to put his teeth in it, he put it up to his mouth like he was going to drink from it. I told him it wasn't to drink from, but I needed him to put his teeth in it, and he just held it to his mouth. When I realized he wasn't understanding I told him to open his mouth, so I could get his teeth...kinda creepy putting your fingers in someone else's mouth!

As I was putting the denture cleanser in the cup to soak the dentures, I could hear dad coughing and remembered he'd been coughing at dinner also. It sounded like a chest cold, so I told dad I was going to get him some cough medicine. Earlier, as I was putting his pajama bottoms on him he asked for a drink of water, but when I handed him his water bottle he didn't know what to do with it. And when I held it up to his mouth for a drink, he couldn't swallow from the bottle and ended up spitting the water everywhere. I knew I wanted to give dad some cough medicine, but I remembered he'd had a hard time swallowing the water, so I used a medicine syringe that the pharmacist had given us with the medicine. I explained to dad that I was going to squirt the medicine into his mouth and he would need to swallow it. He nodded like he understood, but after I squirted the medicine into his mouth he stared chewing. Luckily he kept his moth closed though. The cough medicine is really nasty tasting, so I planned on giving dad a sip of water after the medicine. This time I held the bottle up to dad's mouth for him to sip from, then after he got just a small sip I took the bottle away. He chewed the water just like he had chewed the medicine.

After giving him the medicine, I help him get under the covers and tucked him in. Then I realized not only was he having a hard time remembering how to do things, he hadn't really been talking either. He had been answering questions with a quick yes or a nod. So after I tucked him in, I asked him if he remembered me. He nodded yes, so I asked if he knew my name. He nodded yes again, but still no talking. So I asked him if he could say my name, he nodded, then said "You're the one..." I waited for the rest, but it never came. I decided not to press the matter, and I just started with our usual Good Night routine..."Good Night dad, I love you" and was pleasantly surprised when he replied, "Good Night dear-heart, I love you too."

Mickey's Memories...

There have been a couple of times lately when I've been in a situation or heard something said that triggered a memory of growing up with dad, so I am going to start documenting those memories.

Driving to work this morning the thermometer in the truck showed that it was 27 degrees out. As I was walking from the parking lot to the School of Business it felt even colder than that, so I picked up my pace to get out of the cold. I was taking some pretty good strides and was thinking about how warm it was going to be once I stepped inside the heated building when I noticed the sound of someone coming up behind me at a faster pace. At first I was thinking that I was walking pretty fast, so the person coming up behind me must have some long legs; then as I looked over a saw the legs of the young man passing me taking much bigger steps than me, I flashed back in my minds eye to trying to keep up with dad as we were walking somewhere. Dad was never slow to get places, he always walked fast and with purpose.

Tonight as dad was getting undressed to change into his pajamas, I asked if his pants were ready for the laundry or if they could be worn again. As dad held his pants out for me to see that they were still clean, I said "They look like they'd be okay for another wearing." To which dad jokingly replied, "Yeah, they'll be good for at least another week or two." After dad's reply, I could hear him in my head singing "Black socks they never get dirty, the longer I wear them the blacker they get. Sometimes I think I should change 'em, but something keeps telling me, 'Oh no not yet!'"

Reality - TV

Dad has a hard time following the storyline of TV programs. After a few minutes of watching with us, he either says, "I just don't get what's going on." or "Didn't we just see this show yesterday?" The last comment usually comes if the show is a part of a series...he sees the same actors and thinks we already saw the show. But lately, he has also had a hard time separating what is happening on the TV with reality.

Living in this remodeling project that we call home, we watch a lot of HGTV's shows about remodeling. The other day we were watching the show Property Brothers. These two brothers are twins and one is a realtor and the other is a contractor. They find people that want to move, either to upgrade to a bigger home or get closer to work or something. After talking to the couple and finding out what they want in their new house and what their budget is, they take them to the perfect house that has all their wants, but of course is WAY over their budget. Then they show them a couple of other properties that are in their price-range, but usually need some TLC and remodeling. The contractor shows the couple two designs for the remodeled houses and the couple decides which house they want to go with. In the one we were watching, a couple was choosing the design for their daughter's room and couldn't agree between the wild wallpaper the wife wanted and just paint, which is what the husband wanted. The contractor brother had to mediate the decision and the couple was able to agree on a more subdued wallpaper. After the scene, dad piped up and said, "So what are we gonna do?" I was a little confused because that is usually what he says when he gets bored and wants to go somewhere, so I said, "What?" Then dad asked, "What are we gonna do, use wallpaper or paint?"