Dad didn't take his meds...

Mom went to visit Dad again today. She was told he did not take his meds, but Dad was sacked out in his bed asleep in his PJ's when Mom arrived. God Bless Mom, but she scrounged around Dad's room and found an old pair of glasses and brought them in for Dad.

She brought him grapes and ginger snaps. He was enjoying them when the Social Worker came in and told him not to ruin his appetite. Shortly after, his dinner arrived as Mom hung onto the foot of his bed, so she would not get sucked into the vacuum caused by Dad's voracious appetite! After eating, he was tired and wanted to go back to sleep. Mom agrees, he seems so tired, yet he did not take any medication to make him sleepy. She said he kept his eyes closed most of her visit.

Mom said she wasn't sure which was worse, seeing Dad so out of it, or him being agitated and depressed...

God Bless Mom. I know all of us hate going to the Psych ward... especially, alone! To her credit, she has been there every day for Dad. I really love and appreciate her being there for Dad.

I've had a wonderful, full day with my daughters. We just finished barbecued steaks, baked potatoes, roasted veggies, corn on the cob, and salad. We planned on going out again tonight... but I cannot walk another step or keep my eyes open. We have been going since 7am and I am pooped.

Sweet dreams, cozy, cozy, talk with you all tomorrow....

Dad lost his glasses...

Dad lost his glasses... Mom went to visit Dad today, and forgot about the strict visiting hours at the psych ward. Thankfully, after two reminders, they let her visit Dad anyway. Hope they can find his glasses. Otherwise, he will have to wait until he returns to the nursing home, then he will have to wait until the eye doctor can examine him. That could take a month!

Dad's appetite was really good today and he ate everything, plus extra snacks. The doctor put Dad on some anti-depression medication. Hope it helps. I just can not figure out why he will take his meds there, but not at the nursing home...

Today my husband totally shocked me speechless... My husband usually gets home at 5:30 pm but I heard his key in the front door lock at 3pm. I jumped up all excited to see him and asked how he got off early? Somberly, he asked me to come out and look at his car. Oh CRAP! I figured he got a scrape or someone hit his car.

So we go outside, and I am looking at his car, and he says, SURPRISE!!! Out pops my two daughters from behind my car!! I was flabbergasted and speechless!!! They weren't suppose to arrive until tomorrow!!

They drove out this morning and were in Vegas by 9:30 am. Of course they co-ordinated with my husband who had meetings... so they occupied themselves shopping on the Strip. I am still in shock! I get to be with them for 5 whole nights!!!

It will be wonderful to spend time as daughters and Mothers do... Enjoying doing nothing, any thing really, just being together. My eldest daughter will be orchestrating our day tomorrow, I have no doubt. We'll have to make a list of everything we want to do and see so we can cram it all in.

As my husband, and two daughters are sound asleep...I sit in the living room blogging away on my Mac. I just can't believe it. Tomorrow I will wake up and we have the entire day ahead of us... I am sooooooooooo happy!!! I better get some sleep myself! I'm going to need it...

Give him chaos and he is at peace...

I called Dad last night on the psych wards pay phone. He sounded very matter of fact as to where he was. He talked and I mostly listened. He was rattling off all kinds of nonsense and gibberish...mainly I wanted to know if he was OK. He did not seemed bothered in the slightest.

Mom took Dad a change of clothes and some more chocolate. Dad was calm, cool and collected and seemed very at home in his new room with his new room mate. He seems to calm down in chaos and get restless in peaceful surroundings...

He is very particular about music, and I know his room mate at the nursing home likes a lot of different music. That will really irk and irritate Dad. He HATES being rushed or forced into anything... If someone talks too fast or tries to put words in Dad's mouth, he balks and tunes it out. He listens and observes the tone and facial expressions more than the words spoken.

They told Mom he might be there a week...and told her not to worry about the nursing home holding his bed. Seems like the Psych ward wants to start over from scratch...I hate thinking of Dad as a Guinea pig. Maybe because finding the right combination of medication will determine Dad's resistance to taking it. Guess that will take time...

I know and I must remember, Dad is in the hands of the Lord...only He knows the reason Dad has this particular disease... why this is Dad's destiny to walk down this crooked, lonely path. We can only love him, show him, and protect him.

I can't say I'm surprised, I think I am numb...

Mom got a call at 6:45 am from the supervisor of the south ward. Dad was restless and pacing the halls last night. When the nurse tried to get him to go to his room, he was combative. She told Mom she is going to call both his doctors.

I don't trust that supervisor... she was the one who sent Dad to the hospital with chest pain, despite the EMTs telling her he seemed fine. I have told them at least 4 times to call me if Dad won't take his meds. They have not called even once. Last night, the nurse had Mom give Dad his anti-psychotic 4 hours early, because Dad usually refuses it at 9 pm. This is the second time they have tried to do this, that I know of...

I told Mom I would call her after my doctor appointment. When I got home, I checked my email: Dad is being transferred back to the psych ward... I called Mom and she was in a panic, frantically calling locked facilities. She is certain Dad will be kicked out of where he is.

It's like Dad has been walking a wet, slippery, tightrope over a huge, dark, swirling, whirlpool. It was just a matter of time before he'd slip and fall back into the black hole.

Now, all we can do is wait...

I just can't shake this feeling...

I just can't shake this feeling...like I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. I feel something big is going to happen and its like a black cloud over my head...

Mom visited Dad today. He was napping when she arrived. When she woke him, he told her he had a machine that would help him escape. No doubt he was dreaming. Despite his confusion and paranoia, his one constant thought this past month, is that he wants out.

I just can't stop imagining how I would feel if I were in Dad's situation. He knows he still has the same health problems he had prior to coming into the nursing home, except, his ulcers have healed. He knows he is confused, but I know he blames that on the medication. He still knows his family, so that must make him so sad that we are not bringing him home. No doubt he blames Mom. He told me over and over he did not want to be in a nursing home...

Does he know he has Alzheimer's? Would he rather be in denial? I suppose no one wants to accept being ill... Dad's personality has always been suspicious and wanting to over-think anything he did not want to do. He could come up with a myriad of excuses...

I'm trying to think back...way back...and I realize Dad has been avoiding things for quite some time. He has been canceling doctor appointments because he was afraid of the procedure or what the doctor would find. He avoided doctors who told him diagnosis or suggested procedures to find out what was causing him problems. He fought constantly against his primary care doctor. He felt the doctor sided with Mom because they both had the same doctor.

Certainly, Dad has had Alzheimer's/Dementia for a lot longer than we perceived. I still can't believe he was driving his truck around this past March. I have read anesthesia can make dementia worse. I wonder if the colonoscopy Dad had a couple years back, sped up his memory loss?

I find myself reminiscing...remembering Dad and I collecting agate rocks on the beach in Washington state. Taking walks in the woods and having him tell me which plants and berries I could eat. Riding the Ferry boats and sitting up on his shoulders...having conversations while he watered the plants...him always being on my side...when I had to get rid of one dog, because he was too big, he took me right away to get a smaller one. Sledding in the snow...making snowmen and snow angels...

When we moved to Covina, Mom had to get a job and Dad would quit his jobs to stay home with us because he did not like "strangers" watching his children. He made me feel like there was nothing I could not do. When he disciplined me, he always took me, just he and I, and would talk with me. Just him telling me he was disappointed in me, was way worse than any punishment.
When I moved out when I was 18, he called me up and made a date with me. He came dressed in a suit and tie and took me out to dinner. I will never forget how special that made me feel.

I feel guilty when I call him and he sounds so sad. I feel I am betraying him in some way. I feel I am not loving him enough. I feel so protective toward him. I just hate the fact, I tried so hard to find him the nicest Medi-Cal place, and that he is not happy there...

Live Strong and remember...

Yesterday, my youngest brother, his girlfriend, and Mom went to visit Dad. They had lunch at one of the family's favorite eating spots, Taco Ready, and he brought Dad a burrito and an order of spicy carrots. Mom brought Dad more clean clothes and some dark chocolate Dove wrapped candy.

My brother had been on a week long fishing trip up at June Lake, so he shared the pictures with Dad. Half way through the pictures, Dad had scarfed the burrito and carrots. Dad noticed the facility was serving nachos with cheese and salsa in the activity room, so my brother made sure Dad had a big plate full.

They all had a good visit, and they also found that Dad seemed very tired. My brother is a cyclist and wears the yellow Lance Armstrong wrist bracelet, that says Live Strong. The purpose of the bracelet is to raise money for cancer research, raise cancer awareness and to encourage people to live life to the fullest. He brought a band for Dad and after explaining its meaning to Dad, he placed it on his wrist. They exchanged some private words, and then hugged. Dad has this "whisker rub" thing he started on Father's Day, and gave one to his son. In lieu of kissing the boys, Dad has been passing on the way his father displayed affection to him.

I was inspired and rejuvenated by my brother's visit with Dad. Live strong. Dad and Mom have always taught us to live a strong life and to do what is right. My Dad always told me to listen to that voice within me, which I instinctively knew was The Lord..

I'd like to get one of those yellow Livestrong bands to wear on my wrist too...in support of Lance Armstrong, supporting those with cancer, but also, for our precious Father, who is fighting so hard for his life...

Spent the day crying...

Today, I called Dad and tried to have an uplifting conversation with him. His voice was low, tired and his mood, depressed. It is tormenting to listen to him tell me they don't feed him, they read his mind, they try to mess him up, they make him live in this repetitive syndrome...

For every positive I spoke, he would douse it out with negatives. He told me he didn't know how much more he could take. He said, soon he would be dead. He would rather go be with the Lord...

I called my sister and she told me she planned on visiting tonight. I told her about my conversation with Dad and sobbed to her over the phone. Like we do with one another, when one is weak, the other will be strong... She told me she would take Dad, some of his favorites, a fish sandwich from Jack n the Box, a large strawberry shake, a zucchini/walnut muffin, a Butterfinger candy bar and a fresh juicy orange. We both felt hopeful and uplifted.

Later she called and told me Dad took three bites of the fish sandwich and told her it "tasted funny", he drained the shake, woofed the muffin, ate one quarter of the orange (skin included)then spit it out, telling her it "tasted bitter". (Well, YEAH!! ) He looked at the Butterfinger she gave him, like it was a meteorite that just fell from outer space. He took one bite and spit it out too.

Dad may have a metallic taste in his mouth as a side effect from one or more of his meds...or his quirky, obsessive, persnickety, compulsive personality is fighting against him. Maybe it is the paranoia of his disease...regardless, our hopefulness was quickly dashed.

Dad's doctor called with results of his blood and urine tests. His PSA is 24 (100 indicates serious problems) and his urine was clear. He told me they were giving him Megace, an appetite enhancer and Lasix to rid of extra fluids. Dad has congestive heart failure. Normal is 50-60% and his heart is pumping at 30%...half of normal. Because his heart is half efficient, if he drinks too much water, his heart cannot pump sufficient blood to the kidneys to dispose of the liquid. He must drink enough water to stay hydrated, but not too much, because then his heart would be like a dam with too much water in it. His heart would be overwhelmed by the burden of the need to do more work than his heart could provide. That is why it is so important for Dad to wear his compression stockings, to help prevent welling of collection of fluids.

All this time, I thought Dad had irregular heartbeat and rapid heart rate. The doctor told me kidney and liver failure occur at 10-15%...

I spent the day crying... Ironically a monsoon of rain poured from the sky, thundering on the roof like a thousand storm troopers. The winds howled outside, blowing the rain in every direction. I sat, feeling like a raw-exposed-nerve, sobbing and staring out the window watching the rain flood the streets. I felt totally helpless and realized I cannot fix this... I cannot control it...Dad is totally in the Lord's hands.

The well is empty...

Do you have those days, where you wake up and feel drained? I felt "tapped" like the well was empty. I just feel so sad...

I really don't have anything to say today...

Gentle whispers from the past...

At 9am this morning, I got a call from a dear friend and Pastor. He used to work for the hospice that took care of my Mother in Law in her last few weeks of life. He was instrumental in our surviving the unimaginable. He sat by her bed and read her favorite psalms and sang hymns to her. He would hug and kiss her hello and good bye. He was like a gentle breeze softly whispering over her Spirit. She would not speak, or open her eyes, but she pressed her forehead against his when he sang and prayed for her.

His prayers would raise you up and take you to a better place. We only knew one another for three days a week for two weeks, but we felt like we knew one another for years. So close, so connected, we ask him to conduct Nana's memorial service. His words were like the softest blanket, warmed ever so slightly in the dryer and placed around our shoulders. He spoke from his heart and it touched us so deeply the way he had gotten to know her without ever speaking with her. Truly, he has a special gift.

Today he drove two hours to visit with Dad for one hour. Dad did not remember him at first, until Pastor reminded him he had also baptized my two grand sons. Pastor said Dad lit up when their names were mentioned. Pastor shared their conversation with me, and once again, listening to his words and the genuine concern in his voice, were like listening to a beautiful, comforting song. He has such an incredible way of relating and saying precisely the right words.

He shared the poem of Footprints with Dad and reminded him the Lord was carrying him now during this difficult time. He told Dad he was a bright Light for Christ and to shine his light and be an example to all those around him. He asked Dad to trust in the nurses and doctors because they are doing the Lord's work. He asked Dad to take his medication and eat his food so he could be strong for the Lord. He told Dad he knew he would be kind and thankful for those who were following the Lord's way and taking such good care of him.

He placed his hands on Dad and prayed for healing. He prayed for Dad and for all of us. Pastor was so touched by Dad and shared his sadness for Dad and all of us. He told me Dad gave him a wonderfully, warm hug and they just lingered for awhile holding one another. Pastor shared that both his parents are in a skilled nursing facility for Alzheimer's in Florida. He told me his own Father has not recognized him for several years.

It meant so very much to me, that he would hear our anguish, frustration and torment through my emails and phone calls to him. I had called upon him for prayers of strength, understanding and patience. How Blessed we are to have such a peaceful prayer warrior fighting for our Dad...

Today, we took four steps forward...

I called Mom to let her know I had a blood test at 9:30am, so I would be on the road at 9pm in case the facility called about Dad not taking his meds. She told me she was taking copies of the all the Medi-Cal approval paperwork over, and also to the hospital. Dad had called last night and asked for some jeans and couple more long sleeved shirts. So Mom was going to take it over and she would call if she needed help with him taking the meds.

I called when I finished my appointment, and Mom said she and the nurse got Dad to take his meds, but he refused his thyroid meds for the second day in a row.

I called Dad's primary care doctor to check on him giving orders to check Dad's PSA level and his UA for infection. The nurse told me they sent it over this morning. I called the facility and spoke with the charge nurse, just in case Dad would give them any trouble. Luckily, they had already done both tests and had sent them out to the lab. Hopefully, the doc will call me with the results...

I tried to schedule a family meeting with Dad's Psychiatrist, but no luck. No openings until the end of August.

Dad is being given Ensure shakes to get some food in him, since he is not eating even 50% of his meals. My sister is determined to get a good meal in Dad, even if it means taking him out. She called our 2nd youngest brother to go with her and I called the facility to find out how we get a pass.

I just heard from my sister. Their mission was a roaring success!!! First, they took Dad out to the patio, and our oldest brother from Ohio, called to get the facilities phone number. My sister let him know Dad was right there. So he and his wife both spoke with Dad, and whatever they said, made Dad so happy and in such a good mood!!! I KNOW Dad was thrilled to hear from his oldest son. Hope he shares his magical words with us via email...

While Dad was on the phone, my brother suggested not driving Dad anywhere, but, instead, why not walk him over to Jack n the Box? They agreed that was a better strategy and told Dad they only had a half hour. Other than Dad being like a child crossing the street, and being over whelmed with the menu, he was thrilled!!

They had a great visit and a good time with Dad. By the time they brought Dad back to the facility and got him changed into his PJ's, got him fresh water, he was almost asleep by the time they kissed him good nite! WHOO----HOOOO!!!

To tell or not to tell...that is the question...

My day began with a phone call from Mom at 8am. Dad was refusing his medication again...and he had told Mom he had a blood clot and needed to go to the hospital, but first, take him out for breakfast...

I was able to get him to take his 9am meds...but his thyroid medication, which he usually takes at 6:30am, will have to wait until tomorrow. I had to talk to the Charge Nurse and review all the medications, then confirm with Dad that it was OK to take his medications.

He wanted me to come and take him out to breakfast. I reminded him I was in Nevada and he was sorry they bothered me when I am so far away. He told me it burned when he urinated so I told him I would call his doctor. He told me he needed his olive oil, apple cider vinegar and water salad dressing so it would clear up all his prostate and IBS problems. He put the phone down and left me hanging...as I whistled and yelled for someone to pick up the phone. After fifteen minutes, someone picked up the phone and hung it up.

Mom was really upset because Dad kept calling her up and screaming at her to come take him to lunch and then bring him home! Before she could speak a word, he would hang up on her. I listened to her frustrations and sadness. She told me she felt "alone in a desert". She got her diary and read it to me. She has been going through this with Dad for five years.

I spent the rest of the day calling the doctors, talking to the Social Worker and Director of Nurses at the facility, and talking with Dad's psychiatrist. I was explaining to the doctor how I had promised Dad I would always tell him the truth. Despite our protective feelings towards Dad, it is becoming increasingly difficult to continue telling Dad he is sick and he can't come home. Dad does not understand why he can't come home because he doesn't think he is sick.

The Psychiatrist told me we can tell Dad 'the doctor said he has Alzheimer's and that is why he can't go home.' If he protests, we are suppose to tell Dad to ask the nurses to call his doctor and discuss it with him. Yeah right! Dad would EXPLODE like a rocket!!!

I packed a suitcase, because I refuse to tell Dad he has Alzheimer's over the phone. Mom really wants me to come back, if nothing else but to spend a couple days with her. Right now, I can barely keep my eyes open to finish watching The Bachelorette...once again, an emotional day, draining all my energy.

Would it make a difference if we began telling Dad he has Alzheimer's? Would it eventually become his reality or would he hide further and deeper into denial? Would it drive a wedge between us and make him forget us? It seems so logical to tell him the truth. It makes perfect sense to give him a reason. Do we tell him, or continue pretending and skirting the truth? Dad has always told us to tell the truth...

My sister called on her way home from work. I gave her a re-cap of the day and told her what the Psychiatrist told me. Immediately she volunteered to tell Dad. She told me she actually felt relieved to have an explanation to give Dad. I am so proud of my sister and respect her willingness to do this difficult task.

I'm not sure I could still get Dad to take his medications if I were to to be the first to tell him he had Alzheimer's...

When my husband came home, he could tell I had a rough day. I started dinner but the phone rang. It was my best friend calling to check on me. While I was talking with her, my wonderful husband not only finished cooking the dinner, but did the dishes too. Thank you God for putting him in my corner...

Dare I think, no news is good news??

Outside there are big rolls of thunder, its hot, its muggy... last night there was lightning...Walter Chronkite died yesterday...there is just an ominous vein of doom out there..but there were no phone calls about Dad.

I called today to check on him. They told me he took his medications at 9:30am and ate 50% of his breakfast. Yesterday, my sister told me Dad did not eat breakfast or his lunch, yet when I called and inquired, they told me he ate 30% of his dinner, 70% of his lunch and 30% of his breakfast. That is in definite contrast to what my Mom and sister observed. Maybe they got the lunch and dinner mixed up???

The nurse told me "Dad was stable and walking the halls".

I have still not recovered from Dad telling me it was my fault he has to stay there because I canceled his SCAN...and a few other choice comments. I just wasn't ready for more...spent the day reading The 36 Hour Day by Nancy L. Mace, M.A., and Peter V. Rabins, M.D., M.P.H. Trying to "bone up" on professional advice on what to say and how to act around Alzheimer patients...

Gearing up to talk with Dad's doctors and get some answers. I'll call Dad tomorrow...

What the hell are we supposed to do...

Today Mom and my sister went to visit Dad. Another horrible visit. Despite my sister vowing to erase her prior visit from her mind, and go with an open mind, hoping for the best... They were greeted with Dad pulling a "Gandhi" by refusing to eat. It is obvious he thinks if he does not eat, they will send him home. All he talked about was going home...

My sister had me try to talk Dad into eating, but eating was the last thing on his mind. He was determined and fixated on getting the hell out of there. I really believe, he is blaming his confusion and difficulties on the facility. Just like he did when he lived at home, he blamed his confusion on the stress of living with Mom. She didn't understand and she didn't listen. She was not cooking the right foods for him. She couldn't hear or see. He was determined enough to do his own cooking and his own laundry, which would take up his entire day.

Dad does not know he has Alzheimer's. Am I wrong to think maybe we should tell him? I tried calling his psychiatrist yesterday, and he did not return my call. I will call on Monday. I will get a hold of him, or bombard their office with my phone calls. I will call his primary care doctor too. I will get some answers on what to say and what to do with Dad.

What are we supposed to do? Ignore what he says and chalk it up to Alzheimer's? We can't keep moving him every time he doesn't like where he is... Because he will NEVER like where he is. Even if we do tell him he has Alzheimer's...he will most likely deny it, as he has so many times in the past.

Do I drive back to California and try to take Dad out on a pass? To see if taking him out for a couple hours would appease him? What if he refused to go back to the facility? What if he breaks down and cries like he did when he pleaded with my poor sister today? He just seems to be getting so much weaker and more obsessed with going home.

Are we to ignore his pleadings to go home? To have Dad go nuts and have to be sedated? Sent back to the psych ward? Be over medicated? To wait for Dad to become a zombie, sitting in a wheel chair, staring off into space, mumbling and drooling?

I need to find out if the medication is helping him or prolonging the inevitable. If that is the case, then I say, take him off all medication and allow him to go naturally. Just call Hospice. Course, he will be a crazy man if he is not on his medication. Lost in delusions and hallucinations. His heart rate and blood pressure will go through the roof with his paranoia...

What the hell are we supposed to do??

Hating the disease...

To my knowledge, no one visited Dad today. I have no idea if he took his medications or not. I did not call...and the facility did not call me.

Yesterday was a bad day. Both Mom and my sister said Dad was mean and angry, saying horrible, horrible, hurtful things.

It must be so difficult to have Dad say such cruel things and to not take it personally. I know my day is coming.

My youngest brother went to visit Dad the other day, and when he walked down the hallway toward Dad's room, Dad was busy moving his television into the hallway. My brother usually greets Dad, by saying, "Hi Pops"...but, seeing Dad struggling with the TV, he just asked if Dad needed any help. My brother said Dad looked at him, as if he was staff at the hospital and told him he did not want any special privileges. He knew the television cost a lot of money. Besides, the television was reading his mind...

My brother showed Dad pictures he brought in a digital frame. Many of the pictures were from our nephew's wedding, and of my brother's new girlfriend. The wedding was the last family event Dad had attended. Dad enjoyed seeing the photos and remembered and recognized most of the people. Dad had told me he had the best visit with him since he had been there in the facility. He told me matter of fact, he saw beautiful pictures of his son's wedding and his lovely wife. I know Dad had cried in the psych ward when my brother had told Dad he met a wonderful woman. Does he really think he got married? Did he get him mixed up with his nephew? Did he think he was not invited to the wedding...or did he not remember going?

I can't even imagine the torment Dad must feel and experience. He tells me he is so confused and he has so much trouble remembering things. Some times I wonder if we should tell him he has Alzheimer's. When he was home, he would not allow us to mention dementia or the "A" word. "That was negative talk and he would not listen to it". I read something on line, that if a patient asks what is wrong, you should tell them. Dad doesn't ask what is wrong, he doesn't think anything is.

He told me the other day, "I have to get out of here! One thing leads to another and then they want you in Hospice and I won't go!" When my husband's Mom had Alzheimer's, we marveled at her will to live. Dad has it too.

It is so difficult not to think about how I would feel if I were in Dad's place... The thought is so frightening and sad it literally took all my energy today. Talking to Mom and my siblings was about all I could manage today. I climbed inside the television and numbed myself out.

Woman who sleeps with fists...

It happened again...this sleeping with my hands balled into fists has to be anger! Obviously the injustice and the disdain felt toward this horrendous disease claiming our Father, piece by piece, day by day. Some where, deep inside my subconscious, it feels like it crashes and slams into my consciousness, creating this powerful force of outrage. I feel it is a warning...

The last two days Dad has sounded extremely weary and worn out. He has refused his medication. All he talks about is getting out of there. I hate that I am starting to doubt the nursing home is the best place for him. I am second-guessing our decision...


So why am I sleeping with fists? Is it feeling guilty for having all this free time on my hands but not able to spend it with my Father? Is my subconscious telling me Dad needs to get out of there? What does our Dad have to have this damn disease?? IT IS NOT FAIR!!!



It makes me sick to my stomach that Dad is separated from us, struggling and living against his will in a nursing home! I can't help feeling so insensitive and without compassion. How can we not listen to our beloved Father? Are we being naive? Is the doctor advising the right treatment for Dad? Part of me wants to drive down there, sneak him out and bring him home!


I miss Dad. I'm glad we had those six days at home before I found him on the living room floor. I miss being close with my family and siblings. I miss my daughters. I miss my grandsons. I am lonesome. I feel misplaced. I wish I could ask my husband to quit his job so we could sell our home, despite today's market and move back to California...



I have always been a "people person" and am more energized around my friends and family... And now, I find myself in major solitude with little interaction from others, except for a wave or hello from a neighbor when getting the mail and when my husband comes home after an exhausting day at work.


Maybe its not feeling needed... I did feel like I was doing something important when I was researching and calling around to find a place for Dad. I did feel like I was doing something worthwhile when I was helping Dad at home.

If I brought Dad here, could I keep him safe? What if he refused his medication and continued to hallucinate? What if he got agitated and violent? What if he wandered away at night? Would I jeopardize our marriage? Reality check. I know I can't.

I just called my sister to check on her visit with Dad. She would not even discuss it. Her tone of voice told me it was bad... She said she would email me later tonight...

Maybe I am sensing another emotional tsunami...something bad is brewing and my instincts are kickin' in...Is it a preparation? A premonition?

It is difficult to concentrate on anything lately. In times like these, my frustration and loss of control is getting the better of me. Even in my sleep, rest eludes me as my subconscious battles with the anger and injustice raging within me...Lord, please, fill our Father with Your peace.

Don't know what I did...

Not sure if I slept on my hand wrong two nights ago, or slept with my left hand in a fist...which for some reason, I have been doing a lot lately... My hand and fingers are so sore I can barely type, let along hold anything with the slightest weight. Kinda looks like my ring finger is bruised.

We had our Care Conference yesterday with Dad's facility. I attended via the phone. What a waste of time. Right out of the gate they wanted another advance directive with Dad. My second oldest brother asked them, "Aren't you putting the cart before the horse? Shouldn't we find out how our Father is and what his general health is?" They couldn't even tell us if he had lost or gained weight...

They were installing cable in the roof for the new TV's and the banging and sawing made it extremely difficult to hear anything being said. I asked some questions, but I was very disappointed.

I need to talk to my Dad today. I need to hear his voice. Daily I find out from Mom or my sister or from one of my brothers, but I have not spoken to him since Saturday.

I called around for a plan B for Dad yesterday before my hand was so dang sore I had to take wrap it in an Ace bandage, take a Motrin and take a nap so it wouldn't drive me crazy...

I feel restless and useless...I miss my Dad...

Back in the saddle again...

Dad's doctor releasedd him from the hospital yesterday, and sent him back to the facility. Mom spent a lot of time with Dad and my sister and 2nd youngest brother visited.

Tomorrow is our Care Conference with the facilities care givers and the family. I will attend via phone conference call. Sure hope we get some answers. Hope they agree to keep Dad...guess that depends on how he acts...

I spent the weekend reading some wonderful words from Mom's devotional, that I wanted to share with everyone. She made me a copy a couple weeks back when I was in California and staying with her. The words really bring me comfort and peace.

I decided I better check with the author for permission, so when and if I get it, I will share the words with you all.

The weather is hot and I find myself becoming more at peace with Dad's situation. It really is all out of our control. We have to make sure he is safe and cared for, and if the facility won't keep him, we'll just have to find him another.

It will never be easy accepting Dad's condition. I do have a difficult time being away from him for a month. I don't want him to forget me... All I know is, I will never forget him.

Trust and rest in times of trouble...

Mom gave me this quote and I find myself reading and re-reading it...

"Nothing influences the quality of our life more than how we respond to trouble." - Erwin Tierman.

She also gave me this bible verse from MARK 4:40: It is the verse when Jesus takes his deciples into a boat and is crossing the sea when a fierce storm came up and was tossing the boat around in the high seas, waves nearly capsizing the boat. The deciples feared He would let them drown, and Jesus calmed the seas. It is then Jesus asked them, "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have so little faith?"

The copy she gave me, was from her devotional book, The One Year at His feet by Chris Tiegreen.   I really liked what it said about being afraid in times of trouble and having faith:

"The life of faith requires us to lean on an invisible source of strength and wisdom. We do not have an unfounded faith, but we learn quickly that it does not rest on our five senses. And as we trust God, we find that very real and visable storms war against our belief in the invisable God. Sooner or later,. a greater test will come and we will have to choose: Trust God or trust ourselves. We cannot do both.

At some point in this walk of faith, we must learn to detach from the things that so greatly concern us and cast them wholly on God. This feels irresponsible at first, but it is actually irresponsible not to do so. We must stop thinking of ourselves as the source of deliverance in a difficult situation. It is not up to us to save. We may be useful tools of God, but not everything is riding on us. Usually, we approach crises as though God is depending on us to do the work while He supports us in the background. We need to turn that around. We must depend on God to do the work while we are behind the scenes believing in Him. When He says to act, we must act. But most of us act far too quickly and believe much too slowly. We must be quick to believe and hesitant to interfere in God's work. By this we can keep our hearts from being so troubled, if we will really trust in Him.

How do you react in a crisis? Do you feel responsible to step in and intervene? Perhaps God will require you to do so, but rarely until you have first trusted Him with a calm heart, sought His will diligently, made yourself fully available, and waited for His timing.

When we pray and ask for God's will to be done in a given situation, we must believe that His will is, in fact, very good, and that He is quite able to accomplish it. Any asking that maintains an internal sense of panic is not genuine trust. It reveals a hidden belief that we are perhaps more critical to the situation than God is. But to trust is to rest, and the heart that is calm has learned that Jesus is above the storm."

I really like those words and take great comfort in them this weekend...

All aboard the hell train...

Early this morning my husband awoke me by handing me my cell phone. It was Mom telling me the nursing home had called her. Apparently, Dad complained of chest pains so the nursing home transported him to the hospital by ambulance.

They ran blood tests and took an EKG, but here it is almost 8pm and no results?? Mom has been camped out there at the hospital for nearly 12 hours today. She is afraid to leave. She thinks Dad will get up and leave during the night. Both my sister and I assured her the hospital would keep their eyes on him... Still, she won't leave.

Dad is gobbling up any food the hospital puts in front of him. I spoke with him and he sounded a little confused, but well. I wonder if he had heartburn?

I spoke with the emergency nurse this morning and Dad's charge nurse tonight. This morning, they thought he would stay 24 hours... this evening, there are no orders from the doctor to discharge him. We know how it goes with hospitals and the weekends... he will most likely go home on Monday.

We all feel like we are on a roller coaster from Hell.... up and down and all around... it is just a hell train ride... no control.... whipping us around sharp curves, not knowing what to expect next... no clue where we are going...Medi-Cal up in the air, waiting for approval... will the nursing home keep Dad? Will we have to find him a new place? Is Dad ill? Is he planning an escape? What the hell is going on???

Time to stop, breathe and remember that trapeze of Faith... take a leap of faith, through the fog, into the arms of the Lord...

A day of rest and remembrance...

Oh happy day... Dad took his morning and afternoon meds with no problems. Today was a good day. I just had to help Mom remember where the paper work for my Dad's pension was. My brother who is doing all the Medi-Cal got a call from the caseworker and needed this last (we hope) bit of documentation.

I was talking with a friend today. Her grandma had Alzheimer's. She was sharing with me how she no longer knew who she was and how they had been so close. My friend told me how her Grandma seemed to go back in time when she was young girl and stayed there.

Listening to her, it reminded me of my Mother-in-law, Nana. She died from Alzheimer's in 2004. She lived four years after her husband of 64 years died. Toward the end, it was like she took rides in a time machine. She'd go back in time to happier and younger days. Her Mother died when she was 14 and Nana was 89 when I met her. She would tell us her Mother had come to visit her. When she wandered, she said she was going to her Mother and Dad's house.

I met my husband four months before his Dad passed. Sadly, I never got to meet his Dad. I met Nana after my husband moved her to a nursing home in San Dimas. He felt she would have company since her brother and sister in law already lived there. My parents lived in Covina, so it was good to be able visit her and my folks.

When I first met Nana, she was very paranoid and afraid. She thought people were coming in and stealing her things. She was a short little Italian woman and we immediately bonded. It was so easy to hug and comfort her the day I met her. From that day forward, I became the daughter she never had.

She quickly forgot she had been married, despite the collection of photos decorating her room. She thought her husband was her brother. She did not do well there. We were constantly driving from Riverside to San Dimas to calm her down. Finally, we moved her after 7 months, closer to where we lived. Her new home was a beautiful, resort type, Assisted Living facility and she was very content there.

I have happy memories of her when she lived there. We would take her to my step-son's baseball games and she would be so excited and enjoy being around all the people, even if she did not know which of the players was her Grandson. We took her to family events and celebrations. I remember her 90th birthday party when we took her to Las Vegas. She was so happy and laughed with joy when she needed help blowing out all those candles! I remember when she danced with my Dad at our wedding...

Nana stayed there two and a half years until she started to wander and hallucinate. For her safety, we had to move her again. We had bought a home in Highland, and we were able to find a secure nursing home near us.

Ironically, I was laid off my job, so I was available to spend more time with Nana the last 6 months of her life. Her short term memory had gone by then and she was losing her long term memory. Eventually, she forgot how to eat and swallow. She kept her eyes closed most of the time. We called Hospice after she forgot to swallow.

It was a difficult decision for my husband not to feed her through a tube. Hospice explained it would actually do her more harm than good. Her body was shutting down and it was best to let nature take it's course. We had wonderful, incredible support with Hospice, but I spent nearly every day with her, watching her, looking for signs of pain.

She never displayed any indication of any discomfort. I never saw her as peaceful as she was then. Her skin looked radiant. I sat by her bed and visited, telling her about our day or what was going on. Hospice told us hearing was the last to go. I read her favorite verses from the Bible.

When her time was near, my husband told her how much he loved her and thanked for all she had done for him and his children. He told her he would be fine, and it was OK for her to go home to Papa. Later that night, she left this earthly place and joined Papa in Heaven.

I have heard so many families who have gone through this with their loved ones. They all say basically the same thing. When their time is close, the dying start to see family and friends who have passed on before them. I like to think they are coming to prepare them and welcome them home...

Let's hope an extra door can hold him...

Dreamed of Dad, so the first thing I did this morning was to call him. His nurse said he was taking a shower and to call back around 9 am. I knew that is when he gets his meds, so I waited a bit. Mom called and said Dad had called and would not take his medication because "it did not look official". She asked me to call. When I called, the nurse asked if I could speak to Dad and get him to take his meds. He is refusing to take them again.

Same thing, different day. Called back and told Dad the meds looked different because he is now getting the real meds being on Medicare, instead of the generic with SCAN. That is why they look different. He sounded happy with the explanation and promised he would take his meds.... but he didn't.

Spent the day chasing down the charge nurse to see if Dad ever took his medicine. Talked to the Social Worker, the Director of Nurse and the Supervisor of the South Ward. They want to move Dad there so he will hopefully, be safer with another door with an alarm. Anything to keep him a little further away from the main door to the street.

Mom called again, Dad wanted to make sure my sister was OK. He is worried about her. Dad would not talk to Mom and wanted to talk to me. When I called him, he asked about my sister. I explained she was at work and would see him tonight. He told me "that is the wrong answer" and hung up on me. I called him back, and he told me he wanted my sister to call him and that is the only one he would speak to.

I called my sister and asked her to call Dad. Meanwhile I defended my Father to the Director of Nursing and the Charge Nurse who think Dad should go back to the psych ward to have his present medication adjusted. I called the Activities Director because she loves Dad. She told me they wanted to move him to the South Ward today and how she wanted to put him in charge of growing herbs and tomatoes on the South patio.

The thought of Dad going back to the psych ward forms a knot in my stomach that felt like a watermelon.

Took the hottest shower I could stand. The heat felt so good on my aching neck and shoulders. When I felt like a noodle, I toweled off and started making dinner.

Mom and my sister went to see Dad. He was moved from 9A to 29A in the South ward. My sister called and told me Dad wanted to speak to me. He sounded wonderful! He was so happy with his new room mates and the view. He bubbled over with the news from the Activities Director who had told him about being in charge of the vegetables on the south patio.

How I love the sound of my Dad's voice when he is happy. Please Lord, let him be content. Let him feel wanted, needed and respected. Let all the love of his family seep into his pores and fill him with joy.

Dad's quest for freedom...

This morning Mom called to tell me Dad had escaped out the front door of the facility again, this time at 12:30am and he took off running into the night. Apparently, the staff had a heck of a time catching him. Once they did, Dad said "he was just going for a run".

My first thought was to make sure Dad would take his meds and if they will kick him out. Mom and my second youngest brother went down and my brother got Dad to take his meds. The Director of Nursing (new to the position for two weeks) and the Social Worker requested they sign a "counseling notice". WE were the one to call the meeting!!!

I just can't stop being so grateful for my siblings. I just cannot imagine going through this without them.

Today was very tough for me emotionally. I am struggling with some emotions and most likely, going through the various phases of grief and mourning. I canceled all my appointments today and called another facility on my list that is more secure. We got to have a Plan B.

I cleaned the house, made three dozen cookies and then took a long nap. It did me good.

A day full of errands and phone calls...

This morning I felt like my eyeballs had been pried out with screw drivers, jumped up and down on by a sumo wrestler in golf cleats, rolled in hot sand and salt and then sling-shotted back into my eye sockets.

Yesterday was the PITS! Here we are after one month, and so far to go...

The spa man was here at 7am cleaning the spa, which was way over due. The gardeners did the yard and in between I was making phone calls about and for Dad. I KNOW I have to have a Plan B in place, in case this facility will not keep Dad. The thought of Dad in a lock down unit sends revulsion throughout my body and fries my brain. I spoke with the administrator and he gave me the name of a few places, but told me not to worry.

Mom was back and forth between Social Security and the facility trying to get Dad a replacement card, and getting Dad to sign papers. She had to take copies to the facility from the Medi-Cal paperwork and my 2nd oldest brother is mailing out the additional documentation Medi-Cal needs.

Thank you Lord, Dad TOOK his medications today!!

We found out the Care Conference for Dad will be next Tuesday. So far, all of us except our youngest brother and our brother in Ohio will be there. I will attend via phone conference.

I spoke with each of my siblings and Mom today. Most of us slept like crap and are having a difficult time eating. We feel like we are waiting for another Tsunami...

Sunday... definitely NOT a day of rest...

This morning, the facility where Dad is, called me. Dad was outside in front of the building, agitated, refusing to take his meds and yelling his head off. His wander guard set off the alarms as he stormed out the front doors.

The nurse wanted to know if I could try talking to him so he would take his medicine. She handed the phone to him and all I heard was Dad screaming HELP!!!, HELP!!! over and over as loud as he could. I had no option but to listen to him rant and rave and scream and yell.

I couldn't help imagining the disturbance in that quiet residential neighborhood on this Sunday morning. I could hear other nurses trying to calm him and he yelled at them too. One of his favorite nurses was trying and he quieted down long enough to tell her he thought she was nice, he loved her, but he was NOT taking his medicine because it was poison!!!

About 2o minutes later, he took a breath, and I asked if I could speak. He gruffly told me to TALK! I explained I was in another state, 4 hours away, so I could not "get over there QUICK" like he was ordering me to do. I ask him to take a breath and to calm down so I could talk with him. He was concerned I was "being bothered" and I reassured him it was no trouble. Just then he started barking orders again to call my brothers and get them over here "QUICK! And I mean QUICK! DO YOU HEAR ME?"

He would not listen to my suggestions to go back in out of the heat or to get something to eat, and asking if he would take his medicine sent him screaming HELP again! The nurse took the phone and I told her I was calling my family.

This has been a very traumatic week with Dad continually stuffing his freshly ironed clothes in a plastic bag, lying in wait for anyone who comes to visit, insisting the visitor take him out of there. Both my brothers, my sister and Mother have all had to do all they could to talk Dad down and get him back in his room.

Mom and my sister had planned on visiting Dad today. Neither of my brothers felt equipped to say or do anything that would help Dad. Another brother was out of town. Neither of them knew what to say or do, except tell Dad he had to go back and take his meds. So much has happened in this past month, it is tough to barely catch our breath, let alone, learn how to comprehend and navigate the hell-hole known as Alzheimer's. They asked if the nurse had called Dad's doctor. HE would be the logical choice!

I know the time is not too far away where we will become the stranger or the enemy to Dad. Eventually, he may not even know who we are.

It tears our heart out seeing this crazy man that has inhabited Dad's body. I never thought I would wish for him to have a quick heart attack. Anything, other than this torture we must all witness and endure. This psychotic behavior is not our Dad... I fear it will swallow Dad whole and in our grief push us further from our beloved Father.

I called back the nurse and assured her my sister was on her way. Talked to my sister and we both were afraid Dad would be sent back to the Psych ward! She told me her plan was to take him two strawberry shakes and to give him a manicure. Dad LOVES her manicures!

Meanwhile the nurse was telling me she took Dad some tamales and something to drink. He wouldn't touch it. I could hear him yelling at everyone in the back ground. Is this how it is going to be from now on??? Mom was still in church so my sister rushed to Dad on her own. I called Mom and finally got her on her cell. She was on her way.

It is so difficult and heart wrenching to sit back, so far away, and wonder what is going on...To not be there, like I feel I should be. I trust my sister and all my siblings to lead with love and treat Dad the way they would want to be treated. If one can even imagine such a scenario.

I paced and wondered until I had to call. My sister told me it was "going terrible" and she had to go, because Mom had just arrived. Within the hour, my sister called to tell me she had got him inside to the courtyard and gave him a manicure. Dad wanted a camera, walnuts and carrots, so she was on her way to Walmart to get them for him. Anything to calm him...

Meanwhile, my husband and I tried to watch a movie to distract ourselves. News flashes constantly broke, reporting Steve McNair getting shot. Eddie George, his team mate obviously upset, tried to speak of their friendship but was too choked up to continue. The heart ache so many families are going through these days is like an open festering wound. May God be with his wife Michelle and their family. May God give us all, the strength we will need.

My sister called to tell me Dad was happy with the disposable camera, the walnuts, the carrots and the box of Cheerios she bought. The facility had done a bar-b-Q and Dad ate two hamburgers, Fritos, potato salad and a coke. Both she and Mom had to cry to get him to take his medicine. She was on her way home because Dad was finally asleep.

What a trooper she is. She did what professionals couldn't do! Even the shrink came and Dad verbally sent him packing. My sister is the last of us to see Dad "act all crazy". She was so riled up, she doubted she could sleep or eat...

We can't help but feel we are walking in a mine field. Each of us dread the phone ringing, for what the disease is making Dad do next. WE have to live moment to moment, forget day to day! We can't help wonder what will happen when Dad wakes up...

Independence Day...

Yesterday, Mom received a Medi-Cal request for more documentation. I called my 2nd eldest brother and he zipped over to Mom's to help get it all ready to mail out certified mail on Monday. Mom took Dad his book Spanish For Dummies. He has decided he wants to learn Spanish.

My husband and I went to see Public Enemies with Johnny Depp. Ironically, the film opens and ends with the old song Bye Bye Blackbird. My Dad used to sing that to me when I was a child as a lullaby. It has always been a special song for us. He and I danced to it at my wedding. My first marriage, I eloped and never had a traditional ceremony. Dad only walked me down the isle on my second and last marriage. I am so grateful to have those happy memories.

Today, we hung the flag and are just relaxing. The weather is gorgeous with white fluffy clouds against a beautiful blue sky. Its a "dry heat" of 103 degrees. We will bar-b-que some steaks and white corn on the cob later, then take in another movie. I think we will see Taking of Pelham 123. I want to see Ice Age, Dawn of the Dinosaurs or UP.

My husband always enjoys watching the Twilight Zone marathon every 4th of July. In many, many ways, I feel we all are living our own Twilight Zone with Dad. Of course it changes the entire dynamic of our family. We are each dealing with it and handling it in our own individual ways. I know it will blend together at some point. Holidays will be different from now on...

I spoke with Mom, my sister and both my daughters... But everyone else has plans and are not around. I hope someone visits Dad today... I'm going to call him, so I can hear his voice. Maybe I can ask him to sing Bye Bye Blackbird to me...

Prayers of our Father...

Another restless sleep last night with nightmares about Dad. I awoke at 6 am, dressed, and went out into the yard and filled a big trash can with trimmings. The clouds were dark and it rained like shed tears from heaven.

I reorganized the garage so I can put my car in it in case we get hale the size of golf balls...

Came in the house and Mom called. She went to visit Dad and he had all his clothes in a plastic bag and wanted to come home. She wanted me to talk with him. Dad explained how God had told him to go to the elders of his church and have them lay hands on him so he could be healed. He read me the passage in the Bible. He assured me, if we followed the Lord's word he would be able to come home. He wants to plant seeds because he is a Farmer and that is all he wants to do. His voice was steady, deep and strong. He remembered working for Home Depot in Washington state and how much he enjoyed learning about various flowers. He barely takes a breath in between his lightening speed thoughts and memories.

Its almost as though, somehow, he realizes he must get all of his thoughts and memories out now, before they disappear forever...

Tears welled in my eyes as I listened to him tell me how thankful he was that I found him such a nice place to stay. He loves the patio, the flowers and he "releases me from any responsibility" so he can leave. He was like a child desperately trying to persuade me to give my permission. I could barely get a word in he rapid-fired his reasons, as if he could get enough out, I would say YES.

I tried to remember all the Caregiver tips for Alzheimer patients...I complimented him on his ability to pray so well and so beautifully. I told him how kind and thoughtful he was after he told me he shared the cookies my sister made, with the other residents. ( God told him not to eat chocolate.) I told him he was working so hard and doing so well at taking his meds, exercising, eating and sleeping.

I side tracked and distracted him by bringing up other subjects. He told me he loved the sound of my voice and that he loved me. I know and feel how much he loves me. I know his home and family are his greatest joy and Blessing. He has always been the kindest, gentlest man I have ever known.

I just wanted him to come home. I know he can't, and it breaks my heart. Somehow I got him to agree to eat something and to allow Mom to hang his clothes back in his closet.

When we hung up I could not stop crying... Then I called his church to gather the elders, go to him and to lay hands of healing upon him.

Later, I called to find out how long we can take Dad out starting next week. We can get a pass for 4 hours. If we took him out, would he ask to stop by the house to get something? Would he get back in the car to return to the facility? What if he wouldn't? I need to find out answers to those questions. I need to call one of our Angels.

As I was discussing Dad with the Admissions Director, she told me they had a 4 th of July celebration today. She had gone to Dad's room and invited him out to the festivities. She told me he had a great time. He ate a cheese burger and a hot dog and danced! Those are the visuals I want to pack into my brain as fond memories.

Mozart's Brain and the Fighter Pilot...

Today I went out and purchased the book MOZART'S BRAIN AND THE FIGHTER PILOT: Unleashing Your Brain's Potential by Richard Restak, M.D.. My second youngest brother suggested it to me. He and I are suckers for technical books about the brain. I just find it so fascinating.

It is typical of me, when I take on something, like our Father's Alzheimer's, to jump in with both feet. I want to leave no stone un-turned in learning about the brain to help me understand what Dad is going through and how I can best help him.

Besides, I need something to take up my time, so I don't feel useless, while we wait for Dad's Medi-Cal to be approved. I know my brother and I will have some interesting conversations from these books we are reading. I recommended POWER VS FORCE by Dr. David R. Hawkins to him.

My sister is going to visit Dad after she gets off work. She made some cookies for her son's 31st birthday today, and she made two dozen for Dad. That will make Dad's day... I have no doubt!! She promised she would call me at the end of her visit so I could talk with Dad.

So far, I am really enjoying the book. I put some pork chops, potatoes, and green beans to soak in apple juice with some cinnamon and onion salt into the crock pot this morning. Smells so good waiving through the house. The weatherman just said we might have more thunderstorms tomorrow.

My precious sister just called. She drove all the way over to see Dad, and he was sound asleep. She tried to wake him up but he was snoring up a storm. Guess our younger brother had been there earlier. Maybe he snuck Dad out and pooped him out. She left him the container of cookies and a strawberry shake. He will be so jazzed when he wakes up. I'm going to hold that happy thought in my mind...