| February
1998
Feb. 7
Last night I fell apart....first time in a few months. Over the
past few weeks I have noticed a change in dad; his head hangs down
a lot more than before, he has less control over his tongue and
mouth, he seems less aware and certainly cannot speak as well. Friday
is movie night and I took him down but a few minutes into the start
of the film I was watching him and my heart just broke...I had to
leave the room and go into the hall because I started to cry and
the tears kept coming.It is so hard to watch someone you love decline
visibly before your eyes.
I moved him
next door into the family room so see if he wanted to try and talk
about anything. I updated him about Caregiver Network and the television
series which started last Sunday...anything to try and keep his
attention, even for a short time. He ate some cookies but I could
tell he was tired so I took him up to his room and sat with him
for a while.
Another woman
on dad's floor has a daily companion with whom I have become friends.
She feels dad is going through a phase and will improve; that or
he has had another mini stroke.
His new companion
Miajan is great. He spends time with dad every dad, takes him out
if possible. They went to Yorkdale Mall on Wednesday. He is very
quiet and patient with dad and I think the fact that he now has
only one companion will help him with a routine.
I continue
to give him lots of hugs but I sometimes feel that my value to him
is declining.
Feb.10
I walked over this afternoon to spend a few hours with dad before
a meeting. I found him asleep, with Miajan waiting for him to wake
up. He was very tired this afternoon apparently; when he holds his
head with his hand it looks like he is trying to say he has a headache
but he is really just showing he is too tired to stay awake.
While he was
waking up, he was flooded with visitors...Miajan's sister Sheila
dropped by to hug dad, as did Mireille (both companions on dad's
floor). It feels good to see him surrounded by people who care about
him and look out for him. So he was all smiles with all these women
around; he had a good dinner.
Feb.11
Today I took a friend with me to visit dad; Scott is a film producer
and I asked him to assess the possibility of including dad in our
TV series, Caregiving with June Callwood. I showed Scott around
and while I gave dad his dinner, Scott reviewed dad's memory book
and made some very interesting comments! I don't know whether it
was the fact that dad sensed I couldn't stay for long after dinner
or the fact that dad was sharing my attention with someone else;
in any case, he literally scowled his way through dinner. There
was nothing I could do to make him smile; when we went to leave,
he told me basically to get lost.
Feb.15
I decided to take my laptop over to dads to show him the website
with his picture. He was weepy when he saw me but ate a good lunch
until fatigue started to overtake him. Mireille is replacing Miajan
this weekend, so when she arrived, I turned on the computer but
could not get dad's attention, he just kept nodding. He needed to
be changed, so I kept waiting for help. He started to get agitated,
push himself along towards the bathroom, a clear signal he needs
to go. So finally demanded help and we just got him on the toilet
on time. Put him to bed for a rest..but he fought it, probably because
he knew I would be gone when he awoke.
I was asked
to give two lectures this week to the two first year gerontology
classes at McMaster. The request; to talk about my experiences,
why I started Caregiver Network and comment on long term care placement.
I really didn't have time to prepare anything except an agenda,
so for 50 minutes during each class I just talked about my experience
up till now and answered questions. It was actually very interesting;
it forced me to reflect and offer some conclusions about my life
for the past four years. The professor thought I did a great job,
particularly because I was able to personalize everything.
Feb. 22
Once again it's been too long since I've visited dad. So I decided
to spend time over lunch with him, and then take him out for a walk,
since it is not so cold.
I found him
in the floor dining room, sitting at his table with his bib on.
I walked over to him and bent my head closely to his. Nothing happened
for a few moments, but finally I think he recognized me. I wheeled
him back to his room; I gave him a big hug and it was then I think
he finally knew who I was. We sat quietly, so I could see if there
was anything that he wished to say. His speech is virtually nonexistent,
so when he does try I really have to struggle. His breathing was
ragged. He did say that he felt he was going to go home soon. In
my mind I was wondering if it was his only way to express that he
felt he was gong to die. I continued to listen; he then said he
couldn't fix it. I asked dad what he meant...he said he couldn't
fix anything. I told dad that I really couldn't fix things either,
that sometimes having we have to deal with what we have. I didn't
know what else to say.
While we sat
quietly, he would look at me with a soft, quizzical smile, moving
his head slowly back and forth, as if trying to orient himself.
It looked like the smile of someone who was drifting away on an
island, someone I would never see again. Sometimes I would ask him
a simple, familiar question and he would just look at me, uncomprehending.
Dad ate a good
lunch and I then took him out to Loblaws where we poked around.
We then sat outside for a few more minutes; at 2:00 PM there is
a special Broadway show in the rec room and dad is going, so we
went back in. I met his companion Miajan at the elevator; he took
dad up to his room to change him while I went downstairs to grab
some seats. My sister and her husband arrived but didn't stay long.
Miajan brought dad in and we settled him, but after watching him
for a while I wondered how much he would derive from the wonderful
music and singing. He couldnąt seem to keep his head up and stay
awake. I left shortly thereafter, as I had to go to the studio for
the TV show. I knew dad was in good hands.
Many weeks
ago I had requested art therapy for my father; last Sunday the art
therapist said she could make room for dad on Sunday afternoon.
She called me over to explain something: she and dad had been in
the elevator together. Dad was agitated because the elevator was
stopping on all floors and not going directly to 6. So I understand
he grabbed the therapists arm to express his frustration. She felt
compelled to write up and incident report and informed me that as
a result of this incident she would not be alone in a room with
my father; she would need a member of the family present. Well,
I looked at her and saw probably one of the most unempathetic therapists
I have had the pleasure to meet and quite frankly if art therapy
doesnąt work out I wonąt be really upset, as I suspect dad wonąt
feel relaxed enough to contribute anyway. A disappointment.
Feb. 28
I believe the inevitable has happened....I don't think my father
knows me anymore. The past few visits with his quizzical smile and
lack of response to me has made it fairly clear. His look says...'I
should know who you are and I'm glad to see you but...'
I was told
this day may come but always thought, not my dad, but I was wrong.
I think I am handling it fairly well, as long as I don't dwell on
it. I know he is well looked after and I think he feels the love
around him. I wish I knew what was going on in his mind but can
only hope he is at peace.
I walked over
today, a lovely day to give dad his lunch and take him out before
his companion arrived. Once again I got the same blank reception
but he did give me a big hug when I asked for one. he didn't eat
much lunch; he was so sleepy I really had to fight to get half him
to eat half. I asked for help to put him to bed for a nap; I told
him I would wait and take him out. His companion arrived and we
took him out for coffee, then I had to leave to go to the studio
for the TV show.
When I got
home from the studio, there was a message from dad's companion.
I had asked yesterday if dad could watch the show on his roommate's
TV. Well, apparently this was arranged. Miajan said that dad watched
attentively even though he was also eating his supper; when the
lifestory came on about the woman looking after her husband with
Alzheimer's, Miajan said dad started to cry. I started to cry when
I heard this message; I was completely unprepared for my dad to
have such a reaction. I though it was beyond his capability. What
do I know...
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