Sometimes I Sleep on the Couch...

I am an insomniac. I have always had a hard time falling asleep. It is not uncommon to find me still awake at 1 o'clock in the morning, out in the living room either watching TV, reading, or playing games on the computer, because it keeps Eli awake if I watch TV in bed.

It used to be that every once in a while dad would wonder out at about 1 or 2 in the morning looking for the bathroom, because he forgets there is one in his bedroom. There have also been a few times that as I've walked past his room on my way to bed his light was on, and when I'd open the door to see what he's up to...he's dressed and puttering around his room...but lately it's getting to be more regular.

Two nights ago, I had gone up to bed at about 1:30 and had fallen into a pretty deep sleep and suddenly I heard "Hello!" It happened a few more times, but I was in such a deep sleep that at first I started incorporating the "Hello!" into my dream, until the mother instinct on me kicked in and I realized it was dad. When I got down to his room, he was standing in front of his window with the blinds open yelling "Hello!" I told him it was 2 o'clock in the morning and everyone was asleep, then asked him who he was calling. When I turned on the light, I saw that he was still in his pj's, but had on a belt and shoes. He told me he was looking "for the...for the...I feel like such a fool, I can't remember the name." He was holding his hands in like a circle shape, so I asked if he was looking for his flashlight but that wasn't it. He then informed me that he was working on a project for a Marine and had lost the part and was going to get in "all kinds of trouble" if he didn't find it. I told him I thought he had been dreaming...big mistake! He had NOT been dreaming, and was going to be in all kinds of trouble if this part was not found! Then I decided to join his reality and try finding "the round thing" that I knew didn't exist. After looking under his bed, in the drawers, and behind the door, I told him I couldn't find it so he should go to bed and maybe we'd find it in the morning. Dad just looked at me and said, "If you want to get me shot, I'll go to bed." I tried to calm him down and told him he wouldn't get shot, but he needed to lay down and go back to sleep. I got him back in bed and then went to go to the bathroom.

As I was walking back by his room on my way back to bed, I saw his light was on again. When I opened the door, he was looking for "the round thing" again. By this time, I am so tired that I just want to go to bed. Once again I try to help dad find this missing thing, but of course we are having no luck. I try a couple of times to tell dad we may have to wait until morning and just talk to the Marine and explain what happened, but dad is sure he is going to be put in jail because the Marine needs this missing thing "first thing in the morning." Now dad is visually upset and worried, and all I can think is "how am I ever going to get him calmed down and back in bed?" We look around some more, and now dad is calming down. I am finally able to tell him we can take care of it in the morning and he agrees, although he's not happy about it. Just as I get him back in bed and turn out the light, he says "Now I've got to go the bathroom" then makes a disgusted sound and says, "I should just piss myself." I turned his light back on and got hime steered toward the bathroom, happy to have a diversion to take his mind off "the lost thing."

Last night, right at 2:00 as I was getting ready to head to bed, dad came out of his room. I asked him what he needed and he told me he needed a ride home. When I walked over to him, he had shoes on with his pajamas and was carrying a coat, a shirt, and some pants folded up in his arms. I told him that he was home and I took him back to his room. As I was putting his clothes back in his closet, I noticed a bulge in his pajama top. I asked him what was in his shirt, as I was putting my hand inside it, and pulled out his wallet, three handkerchiefs, and a little pack of tissues. Then as he turned around to get in bed, I noticed his gloves tucked in the back of his waistband. This time it was a whole lot easier to get him back in bed!

I think maybe part of why I've started staying downstairs and falling asleep on the couch watching TV is because I know dad is probably going to wake up and start wandering. This way, I am here to guide him back to bed and make sure he doesn't wander outside.

I'm Dizzy and I Can't Get Up...

Yesterday as I was getting ready for work, I knew it was going to be a long day. I had a meeting at 8:00 a.m. to start it off, and I was going to need to attend the Legal Studies Advisory Board Meeting from 6:00-7:30 after work. I knew what I was in for as I was getting dressed, so I wore comfortable shoes and dressed comfortably.

At lunchtime, I needed to take Connor my car and have him drive me back, so that he would have a car to get to work. I am in the middle of a few projects at work, so I stayed pretty busy which made the day seemed to fly by. At 4:30 Eli called to tell me he was on his was and would be there to get me at 5:00. The plan was for him to pick me up, so that I could ride home with him and then bring the truck back for my meeting.

When we got home, Tanner was in the living-room by himself. I asked him where grandpa was, and was told he was in his bedroom. When I went to say "Hi!" dad was sitting in his chair, and he looked really pale. I asked him how he was doing and he told me he was dizzy. I asked he was dizzy while he was sitting down or if he got dizzy when he tried to stand. That's when he told me he was dizzy so he couldn't stand up. He just looked really bad, so I tried to take his pulse, but couldn't feel one. I thought he might be dehydrated, so I went to get him a drink of water. As I was getting the water, I told Eli about dad. Eli came back into dad's room with me, and suggested we call 911. As Eli was talking to the lady on 911, she told him not to give dad any food or liquids, so I skipped giving him the drink of water.

We live so close to the Fire Station that the paramedics were here in just a few minutes, and when they checked dad's pulse and blood pressure they were really low. They suggested that either they take dad to the ER or we drive him there ourselves. They had parked their ambulance behind our car, so we waited for them to hook dad up to an IV and then followed them to the hospital. At first we couldn't find a parking space, so Eli dropped me at the walk-in entrance to the ER while he went to find parking. As I walked up to the desk, I could see the paramedics wheeling dad in through a window in the door...already he looked WAY better. The IV really made a difference.

By the time the doctor came around to see dad, his blood pressure and pulse were back to normal. He asked a bunch of questions to try and figure out what might have caused the dizziness. He asked if dad had fallen and hit his head, and just as Eli and I were saying no, dad said "I fell on the freeway the other day." The doctor just told dad he should stay off the freeway and went on with his questions. He told us he wanted a run some tests in order to try and find the cause. After having blood drawn and giving a urine sample, a tech came to take dad for a CT scan. He also asked if dad had fallen lately, and just as I was saying no, dad started to say he fell the other day "when I was on the..." and then I remembered. Dad had fallen in the driveway...highway, driveway same thing right? After the CT scan they did an MRI and X-ray.

While we were sitting there waiting for the test results, I started reading an information sheet they had on the wall. It said that the average ER visit took 2 1/2 hours. After reading the sign I figured that we had been there 2 hours, so I mentally made a note to see if our visit was an average visit. About 15 minutes later the doctor came in and said all the test results came back normal. He mentioned that one of the tests showed that something with his liver was a little high or low (I can't remember), but that that could...could be a sign of dehydration. A few minutes later the nurse came and disconnected dad from all the machines, and we were on our way...2 1/2 hours after arriving.

We arrived home at about the same time I would have if I had gone to my meeting! Today dad is doing much better!

Scotty the Philosopher…

I am taking an Ethics and Values class at right now. Don’t let the name fool you though; most of the professors that teach the class have neither ethics nor values. For the past couple of weeks we have been reading writings of both Nietzsche and Camus. In their writings, both philosophers challenge us to think about the nature of morality and moral commandments, and about how we as individuals are effected by the ethical and moral demands and expectations of the society or culture within which we live. As part of a take home quiz I was asked to write a 750-1000 word essay either evaluating Nietzsche’s criticism of morality or give a critical analysis of Camus’ novel The Stranger.

Originally, I chose the first topic, but Nietzsche takes SO many words to say nothing, that I was having a hard time following him. Not to mention his moral command, live a happy life, and the fact that he does not pretend to believe in any other moral authority, including God. About a week ago, as Eli and I were driving home from somewhere, I was explaining my assignment and why I should switch topics. As I was explaining some of Nietzsche’s ideas to Eli, it was as if I (or Nietzsche) had challenged him. When we arrived home he got out my copy of Nietzsche’s writing and started reading through it and marking it up…in order to pick Nietzsche’s ideas apart…he was a man with a mission. But, since I’ve never been much of a philosopher, I switched and chose the second topic.

Then last Sunday as we were watching TV in the evening, a show came on the Science Channel that had two scientists discussing the existence of God. One was using science to argue that there was no way there could be a God, and the other one was explaining how that very same science proved there was a God. Listening to these two men got Eli and I talking again about how much the first scientist sounded like Nietzsche. Usually when we are watching TV dad has a hard time following along, and after a few minutes will say something like, “I don’t get what they are talking about.” Or “Do you know what’s going on here?” But this time he sat there with us…listening. I was sitting behind him at the desk and had thought he’d fallen asleep, that is until he started philosophizing with Eli! Dad was able to follow what the two scientists were saying and was able to articulate why the one was wrong. When it comes to the Gospel dad still remembers!

Would You Like Some Chocolate Milk With That?

Dad loves his chocolate milk! Ever since losing his saliva glands due to cancer in to roof of his mouth it has been his drink of choice. The thickness of the chocolate milk makes it easier to swallow. He also likes oatmeal for breakfast, and about a year ago he started adding his chocolate milk to his oatmeal.

Since having dad live with us we have figured out a few things, one is that he doesn’t eat much, and another is that he likes softer foods. I’m not sure if it’s because at Jamestown most of the food was soft and mushy so he got used to it, or if it’s because of his dentures. Anyway, we have learned to adjust our cooking habits. We try and feed dad four smaller meals every day, and at dinner if we are having steak or something crunchy we prepare some other soft food for dad. One thing we found that he enjoys is different rice and vegetable meals or soups…he recently started adding a bit of his chocolate milk to these also.

Sunday evening we were having taco salads for dinner. When I served dad I omitted the lettuce, so he had crunched up Fritos, meat, and cheese in his bowl…to which he added chocolate milk, a lot of chocolate milk. After about 15 minutes, he got up from the table and started toward the kitchen. Tanner saw what he was doing, and told him he needed to show his bowl to me so I could see how much he’d eaten…not that this has happened before or anything. When dad brought me his bowl at first it was hard to tell how much he’d eaten because there was SO much chocolate milk. Then I took his fork and tipped the bowl sideways a bit, and I started checking to see how much “taco salad” was left in the bowl. As I was doing this, I was explaining that it was hard to tell, but it looked like he hadn’t eaten very much and asked him if he thought he could eat a few more bites. Dad took the bowl and said he’d try. I then asked if he thought a spoon might help.

I brought dad a spoon and he ended up eating most of his dinner. As he was finishing it up, he would tell me every few minutes what a bad idea it was to add chocolate milk to his dinner…I guess chocolate milk flavored taco salad isn’t so tasty!

When Ya Gotta Go...

I am a night-owl...or an insomniac. Last night at about 11:45 I was up reading an assignment for my Ethics & Values class, and I heard a sound. It sounded like the door to the back of the house opening. (I think it used to be the back door before the addition, now it just separates the bedrooms from the rest of the house and I usually keep it closed at night, so the TV doesn't bother others that are sleeping.) When I turned to look, the door was still closed, so I just went back to my reading. A few minutes later dad came through the door. He was being slow, and I wasn't sure he knew where he was, so I asked, "What can I get for you dad, or are you looking for the bathroom?" to which he answered, "Well yes, I needed the bathroom, but I just peed outside over there." He was pointing to the foyer area by the back door. When I went to see, dad had "relieved" himself in the entryway. Oh Joy!

I'll Love You Forever...

Dad has been living in Utah for 2 1/2 years now, and the last year and half have been with us. Having dad in our home has really not changed our daily routines to much...besides the fact that Eli now stays home with dad. When we go out now, if dad is not coming with us, we just have to make sure someone is home with dad. And if dad is coming with us it takes longer to get ready and get going, plus dad's walking has slowed down considerably...I didn't really think that was possible...so getting dad even from the house to the car and then the car to the appointment takes at least an extra 10 to 15 minutes. I feel bad, because there are times when we are hurrying out for a quick trip to the bank or store & we sneak so dad doesn't ask to come along. I know he loves getting out, so I try to take him for rides or to walk around WalMart pretty regularly, but sometimes he doesn't get to come.

For the longest time the effects of the dementia have been slow, but lately dad's memory seems to be becoming worse at a faster pace. It's gotten to be that I can almost set my watch by the level of dad's confusion. It starts at about 7:20 p.m. every evening. He starts with, "So what's our status?" or "What time is someone going to take me home?" We explain that we are home, and he lives here with us. The next question is usually something to the effect of "Does my family know I'm here?" to which we explain that we are his family and that all the other family members also know where dad is and have even been here to visit him. That usually helps him for a bit, but typically less than 5 minutes later the routine starts over. It breaks my heart to see dad so confused, and about the third or fourth time he asks, he’ll say “I know you’ve told me this, but I just can’t remember…” I have to admit, it gets really tiring! But as frustrated as I get on the inside, I try not to let it show because I am sure dad is just as, if not more, frustrated.

Lately, at about 9:30 p.m., to help reduce the confusion, I will take him to his room and help him start getting ready for bed. I’ll get his dentures ready to soak, while he starts to change, then I’ll just sit in his recliner and we “visit” while he is getting his jammies on. In his room, with all his pictures and plaques, dad is not so lost. And I have to admit, growing up dad and I did not “visit” too often. Not that we had a bad relationship or anything…I was just closer to mom. Now, I take advantage of our chances to “visit,” which is usually looking through his pictures and having him tell me who all these people are, or me asking questions about when he was younger.

So last night as we were going through the routine, I thought of the cycle of life and the children’s book I’ll Love You Forever and how we are living that story…then this morning when I checked in on facebook, my friend had posted the following video that sums it up perfectly.

Are You Sisters?

We had quite a bit of family in town last weekend, because Suzy's son Spencer was sealed in the Salt Lake Temple on Friday, September 23rd to his beautiful bride Nikki, and then on Wednesday the 28th her son Brandon went into the MTC. It was fun having so much family around...I love getting to spend time with my family. We always have a good time. Dad did pretty good too. He gets confused with the grand kids and has to be reminded who they are and which one of his kids they belong to, but he even forgets my name quite often.

Suzy stayed in town to do some more pre-mission shopping and take Brandon to the MTC, but Brent and Robby needed to get back home for school. Tuesday evening we went out to dinner as a last hurrah for Brandon. At dinner, Suzy and I sat across the table from dad. I hadn't noticed him staring at us at first, but just as I noticed he asked, "Are you sisters?" In unison we answered, "Yes." Just as we answered him, you could see him get a glimmer of recognition as he said, "And I'm your dad?" I love seeing that glimmer in his eye...I don't see it so much lately.