One Day, Leads To Another...

The days now seem to flow together. Every day Dad takes walks. Every day Dad gets lost. Several neighbors now know where he belongs and have aided in returning him home. Our local police department now has his description and photo on the computers in each squad car, a program called "Take me Home" and they have encouraged me to call as soon as we find him missing.

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That was written a few days ago. I intended to finish it at some point but my time is no longer my own. Not even a little bit. I think I'll do an ADD bullet point blog.

• Sleep deprivation
• Dad has had 2 significant falls.
  
• One in front of someone else's house while he was lost, one in front of ours today.
• He's "okay."
• D must be so happy to be out from under the radar.
• Once Dad goes home, I am never cooking again. When I shared this with StW, he said, "that's what I'm afraid of."
• Dad seemed worse the first week he was here.
• He's been staying home the last few days after promising me.
  
• We've taken walks together every day.
• Today I worked on the back deck, cleaning and getting ready for planting, cookouts and summer.
• I brought the outdoor rockers over from J's deck so Dad could sit there -safely- and read the paper, enjoy the sun and not be distracted by the road to somewhere.
• Yesterday we bought 2 chairs at the Lazyboy store so he'd be able to get out of a chair more easily because we noticed it's difficult for him to get off the sofa. He was along and tried them out. He continues to sit on the sofa.
• He loves to eat. All. The. Time. Night. And. Day.
  
• He won't take any meds.
• He scratches until he bleeds. Until there are holes. Deep holes on his arms -mostly.
  
• We have had 4 plugged toilets, water running into the hall.
• There's also been bowel incontinence.
• Today he told me I'm a good mother.
• I decided not to question that.
• Most days he asks me numerous times, "how's my daughter doing?"
• You cannot leave the house without him saying, "be safe."
  
• He is excessively thankful. He says "thank you" for the most minute thing, and too often during meals, drinks and help. Every single thing has been "delicious." I think not.
  
• Today I noticed that some details of even the old stories have changed. It's the first I've noticed long term memory issues.
• He doesn't know how long he's been here, nor how long he'll be here, or even why he's here, but he does ask about my Mother now.
• He leaves the bathroom door open.
  
• There has been nudity in the house.
• Most household members don't deal well with that.
• He's a klepto everywhere we go.
• He eats without his teeth in.
• He puts food he can't eat on top of the dry cat food. They won't eat it either.
  
• He's exchanged the cats' water with milk.
• He sleeps with Floyd, who he has renamed Cassandra Obama, which he repeats 3 thousand times a day and calls all three cats.
• He turns off lights left on so he can see at night. Instead, he turns on the really bright ones and even sleeps with the overhead light on.
  
• As long as someone is with him while he's awake, he's okay.
• We've been watching the HBO special on Alzheimer's, yesterday he watched with us. I wish I could read his mind.
• He's too young for Alzheimer's.
• I feel so sad. I am tired of care-taking, which then makes me feel guilty. Yet it isn't without its rewards -at least still at this point.
  
• We have one more week with him here.
  
• Jay has already weighed in, "your care-taking days are over. He cannot stay with you."
• My boss uses almost the same words.
  
• I know this is true. It's only been 2 weeks and it's taken a toll. But how can my Mom do this when I can barely manage?
• Plus they have a different relationship, more history, baggage. They fight.
  
• It's sad. Very sad.
  
• I'm still undecided.