July 5/97
A beautiful day; walked over to take dad out. We walked to the village, then down some side streets. He was very quiet; I asked him if anything was the matter but he said there wasn't. He asked to get something to drink so we stopped and I ordered him a type of slurpy..banana/strawberry with lots of ice. When he took the first sip he had the funniest look on his face; I think the texture took him by surprise. But he claimed he liked it and ended up finishing the whole thing. I took him back and suggested a rest; he was asleep in 2 minutes.

July 11/97
Went over to give dad his lunch. I found him in the hall, quite calm. No outburst when he saw me which was nice. It was very hot and I wasn't up to pushing him in the humidity, so I suggested we go into the garden and sit. He agreed and we just sat and talked. Every once in a while I try to do this, just sit and give him lots of time to think and try to say whatever is on his mind, with no distractions. He didn't seem to have anything bothering him; I went from topic to topic, just to get him to speak and to remember. We talked about the summers at the cottage when we were kids and the boats and the diving towers...he did remember but couldn't express himself well. It was quite breezy; he asked if we could move into the courtyard more, as it would be less windy. So we did...I was glad to see this logic still alive in his mind.

A family settled near us; they were eating ice cream so I went across the street and bought some for us which he really enjoyed. His companion Don arrived shortly thereafter; we chatted for a while and I left.

July 17/97
Debbie came in from London on the way up north and spent time with dad. She found the home very busy and somewhat understaffed but thought dad was doing quite well. She said she could understand him..unusual since normally the other kids have problems since they are not around him. I was glad she finally visited; she hadn't seen him since Christmas and it's good for him to see another one of his children.

The rec staff left a message asking if I wanted to take dad to Shakespeare in the park tonight. I called and said no; normally I encourage all outings but this would be at night. Dad has never been interested in Shakespeare and I figured that he'd get tired and agitated. But he is going to the football game in September.

July 20/97
Was going to see dad today but ended up with a migraine instead. His companion Don called and said he felt dad wasn't eating well. I called his other companion Norman; he felt dad was eating normally, just more tired. I think the heat certainly is a factor but will go over tomorrow and talk to the staff. Also want to see how his buttocks are; they continue to be red but the skin is not broken. I have him in another type of pad, not the washable ones which I feel keep the moisture on the skin. He also has a gel cushion which hopefully will even out the pressure when he has to sit in his wheelchair for so many hours at a stretch.

July 29/97
Walked over after lunch; dad was out in the hall in his wheelchair with his back to me. Every time I see him like this my heart breaks a little. I wonder if this will ever change, but I think not. He was delighted to see me and welcomed my suggestion of a haircut. During the cut he fell asleep, so I let him be when I was done. But he woke up and the look on his face was: so what are we going to do??

I took him out for a walk; we went around the grounds of the apartment building across the street with its fountain and waterfall. But dad only stays interested for about a minute, so we went to the village and around the side streets. He was very quiet; all of a sudden he said: I have to have a sh...". So it was time to motor back to the home...boy, did we move. I kept asking him if he was still holding it...he answered yes. Finally arrived...I was sweating like mad and my legs were like jelly. Got dad on the toilet and he kept fighting to get off, even though he admitted he had to go when I asked him. Finally he did and I left him in the hands of Michael, the physio; it was dad's turn for his walk. I watched him from behind and realized for the first time how his second stroke has affected his right foot. He almost dragged it behind him. Again my heart started to cry; I left.

I also realized that even though I need to get dad back to go to the toilet when necessary, the fast, bouncy wheelchair ride is very hard on him. The last three times we have been out in the afternoon, we have had to rush back to the toilet and every time his stomach has become upset and he has brought up whatever was in there. I think I need to change my visit time, or keep him closer to a bathroom.

The staff called me this morning; dad was restless about 6:00 AM so they put in his chair but he somehow wiggled out of it and ended up on the floor. No injuries but I always ask myself: what is he after, what is he trying to do? We have an appointment in August with a well known gerontologist to get a revised assessment of dad's condition. Once again I list the questions, including those above, to try and get a better understanding of what is driving my dad, what is going on in his mind; what can we do to relieve his anxiety?