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.