This blog was formerly dedicated in 2009 to my Dad who died of Alzheimer's in 2013. It's been three years now...and I find myself missing I am re-inventing my blog... because, after all, life is about moving through, and going forward...

Friday, July 17, 2009

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.

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