Feb. 1/97
A bright sunny day; walked over to see dad about 4:30 pm. His cold has become considerably worse over the past week; his chest is very congested and his eyes are running. I doubt his smoking is helping the situation. He was somewhat agitated about many things...his wallet, the house. At one point he told me he was not returning to that place. I asked which place; he said he was going to quit school at the end of the week because his grades were so poor. Once again I was stuck for words...I finally said that I thought this would be fine, if that's what he wanted to do. I asked him, however, not to be overly concerned about it. He replied "I am not the least concerned". I fed him dinner, then took him downstairs for 'the big smoke'.

We approach the smoking room...the haze hangs low, the country western music is rocking and the seniors are puffing. It's sad and funny at the same time. I prepare dad; get his cigarette in his mouth, get the match ready, then I fling open the door, whirl him in , light the match and the cigarette and run! I cannot bear the smoke. I watched him from outside contentedly puffing away. When I went to fetch him, another elderly man stopped me...choke, choke.. to inform me that he thought dad was inhaling too much...I just started to laugh and was about to declare that what my father inhaled was nothing compared to what he breathed in while in the smoking room...when I realized it would be useless so I mumbled something and fled.

I then took him to the activity room to see if there was anything we could do to pass the time. There really wasn't so I reviewed the paper, discussed the major news in simple terms but he was getting tired so I took him back up. I cut his hair, gave him a shave...things he loves...then said goodnight.

Feb. 3/97
I spoke with the doctor at the home this morning. He had just examined dad at my request and said he felt his chest was clear; he had no fever. I replied that I felt dad had worsened considerably so he agreed to a chest x-ray and someone would call me with the results. At about 5:30 pm a nurse called and said there was a suspicion of pneumonia in the right lung. They weren't sure but were going to start him on antibiotics tonight just in case. I hate to think what happens to seniors with no advocate.

Feb. 6/97
Tonight is new resident family dinner night. I asked my sister to attend. I arrived early to spend time with dad; he was not in a great mood...fighting with a poor aide trying to change his shirt. But I got him changed and we down to the activity room where the dinner was being held. My sister arrived at 6:00 just before dinner. There were quite a few families with residents so the dinner was a nice occasion. All the staff introduced themselves and explained what they do. I sat next to Dave, responsible for the physical plant, plus all maintenance, including residents' wheelchairs... a good guy to know! Dad was anxious to leave finally so we went upstairs for a smoke about 7:15. I did the routine; set him up, whirled him in, lit the cig and tore out. He got very upset that I wouldn't stay with him, a first. I indicated that I wouldn't come into the smoking room. He then started to try and get up so I went in and moved him out of the room. We then went upstairs cuz he was tired. I made my sister help me get him ready for bed; he sure was cranky and difficult, Lord knows why. She disappeared while I was putting him to bed. Great support.

Feb. 13/97
Today there was a pre-Valentines party and I told dad I would take him. I arrived about 1:00 to find him very tired, so I suggested he have a nap before we go to the party. I got him into bed and started to wander around, watching and listening. I met Mrs. Heller, whose husband has been pretty much comotose with a brain tumor for over a year. She is such a brave, strong woman who goes by herself on the subway to see her husband. I admire her devotion.

Dad finally came alive about 2:15 so I quickly put on a new shirt and sweater I had bought him and down we went. It was a lovely party. One of the recreation staff danced with the residents who could...Dad got a great kick out of it all. There was punch and cake, everyone received a flower and half a dozen staff must have come up to dad to say hello, call him by name and inquire after him. I was impressed. His companion Norman arrived around 3:30 so I left to go back to work.

Feb. 15/97
Went to see dad for dinner. He told me about the second Valentine's party on Friday which he couldn't stop raving about. Apparently Wilf (his other companion) who took him to that party is a great dancer and he ended up dancing with all the residents either on their feet or in wheelchairs. From what Wilf told me, both he and dad had whale of a time...I was equally thrilled.

I gave dad his dinner, then we went down for a cigarette. When dad emerged from the haze, there were quite a few people sitting around in the lobby, families and residents. The chat was lively so I wheeled dad closer so he could enjoy the social atmosphere. A number of residents were eating ice cream; I asked dad if he'd like one (he adores ice cream, something not available in the home it seems). So off I ran across the street to the very handy variety store and got him a chocolate drumstick. I just got dad organized with paper towels etc. when a lady arrived in a wheelchair and remarked she had never had such an ice cream. Off I went again across the street and got her a drumstick. I have not seen my dad so happy in months..he was laughing and laughing over his ice cream. Maybe it was the whole environment..lots of happy chatter. I don't know but it sure made me happy. I finally took him upstairs about 8:00 and said goodnight, after again reiterating what a great night we had had. I think this was the first time I didn't feel bad (guilty) when saying goodbye to my father.

When I got back down to the lobby, my new ice cream friend Marion was still there. I took away her wet paper towels and went to say goodnight. She gave me a great big hug and thanked me profusely (again) for getting her an ice cream. Such a small thing made her happy; it made me feel like a million dollars.

Feb.23/97
Not such a great visit tonight; Dad apparently was being his often cantankerous self...refused to be pushed in the dining room for dinner. However when I got there he was sitting quietly but remote, not really functionning in the environment. I decided to leave him here for dinner as opposed to taking him back to his room, as I usually do because it's quieter. I helped with dinner and he ate well, especially the chocolate cupcake I brought him for dessert. I chatted with another lady at the table; she asked me how old I thought she was. Wanting say the 'right thing', I guessed 82, although I thought she was closer to 86-88. Was I wrong...she proudly informed me sha was 102! I couldn't believe it and congratulated her on looking so well. But she wasn't eating, so I tried to encourage her; I finally went to dad's room and brought out some of his Peek Frean cookies; she is British and immediately recognized the brand. She enjoyed the cookies.

After dinner we went down for a smoke...the usual routine...then I took him to the family room where we were going to write a letter to Lanci, my sister in California; he had said last week he wanted to do this. But he really wasn't up to it, so I just asked his permission to include certain information...the weather, his activities, Valentine's Day parties..then helped him sign it.

We returned to his room where I started to try and get him ready for bed, as he was tired and kept dozing off. I hadn't realized how much weight he has put on; between this and his inability to stand up and get his balance, I couldn't get him from the wheelchair onto the bed. I went for help but couln't find anyone available. We watched TV and he really fell asleep so I tried once more with all my strength and did get him onto the bed, where he immediately dozed off. All this to say that when I told the nurse what I had done on my way out, she wasn't thrilled. She said dad wouldn't stay in bed, that soon enough he would try and get up and possibly fall, as he seems to so often. My answer (to myself); it's your job to accommodate what he needs when he needs it.

Later that evening the phone rang; it was the nurse on his floor saying they had found him on the floor. Apparently his pyjama top had caught on one of the brake handles of his wheelchair and they said he was lucky the chair did not topple over on top of him. I really don't know what to do about this issue of his continual efforts to get out of whatever he is in. I understand his need for control over his environment but he either refuses to or can't see what a danger he is to himself.

Feb. 27/97
I had some time between meetings so went over to see dad. Somehow he had managed to chip the front top tooth of his denture; I had called the dentist 3 days ago but had heard nothing and while having his fruit today dad cut his tongue on the uneven tooth. So while he was finishing his dessert, I got on the phone again to find out why my service request had been ignored. Left more messages.

I decided I would take him outside for some fresh air after lunch. When we got outside the weather had turned absolutely gorgeous...so I wheeled him over to the village. When I asked him where he wanted to go, he replied: 'wherever you see fit'. It kills me that he still comes out with phrases like this at a time when he can barely string 3 words together. God bless him.

Dentist to come tonight or tomorrow morning.