Got a call at 8:30 tomight. Unbelievable. The caregiver was putting him in bed when she had to leave the room for a second to turn off some other tenant's fan. He got out of the wheelchair and fell. They are calling 9-1-1 to have him taken to the emergency room to get x-rayed to see if he rebroke the hip. This is becoming so "normal", I just went back to the Emmy's.
The alarm on his bed is attached to his shirt. Last night he was in bed, took off his shirt (to bypass the alarm), climbed down to where the rails part from the foot of the bed and went into the bathroom.
Just got another call. He refused to go with the paramedics. Was slurring his words. Told the paramedics I was not the power of attorney and didn't make decisions for him. So what's this thing he signed?? I spoke to him on the phone and he said it was a light fall and he didn't think he hurt himself. Again, no connection between breaks and rebreaks and the declining possibility of an ambulatory future.
Anybody out there looking for a low maintenance elderly father figure to dote on in his declining years? Don't forget to check out hobbyperweek.blogspot.com. Good stuff this week.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Go Girls
So Dave went home and appeared content at the group home. I went home and the next day at work I get a call saying he had "punched out a caregiver" and was refusing meds. WHAT??!? I don't know how badly he punched her, but I called a little later and asked if she had to go to the doctor or anything and she said she was OK. I believe he did hit this 24 year old 120 pound woman. I was pretty distraught. There is medication that you can apply to calm people down so they are more compliant.
My sister and I went to visit him on Saturday. Do we confront him? Will this make things worse? Will he take out his resentments on the caregivers? We pulled aside the caregivers and asked about it, "I heard he hit someone Thursday night." The answer was, "Yeah, and he got So and So last night." OMG, it just keeps getting worse. I asked them if his hitting was going to get him kicked out, and she said no, that they had seen much worse in the nursing home. She also had the insight that he was going from independency to total dependency for things like dressing, toileting, and sometimes eating (cutting up food), and he was striking out because of this loss of control. They'd seen it all before. I hold the women in very high regard. They are understanding and handling a job that I couldn't do, regardless of the pay. They do it with a positive attitude and with unwaivering patience for the people that are dependent on them. We could all learn from them.
He talked about the play he was in this week as we wheeled him down the street in his wheelchair. As a person who has looked down upon people with disablilities, for example "In order to get in here, you have to have somethng wrong with you" upon living in Tarrytown, he sees being in a wheelchair as a loss of worth and something he is being forced to endure. He can't understand why we don't just hand him the walker.
Upon sitting in the living room with Dad and the roomies, one of the roomies chided him about not using his walker (before the fall) and how he brought the broken hip on himself. "I told him! He's had three falls." Although I feel that her words are probably very painful and embarrassing for him, I think it's probably the only way he can hear the truth. He sure isn't going to hear it from my sister or myself, and if he's ever going to walk again, he's going to need friends like her to tell it like it is. Keep it up, gals!
My sister and I went to visit him on Saturday. Do we confront him? Will this make things worse? Will he take out his resentments on the caregivers? We pulled aside the caregivers and asked about it, "I heard he hit someone Thursday night." The answer was, "Yeah, and he got So and So last night." OMG, it just keeps getting worse. I asked them if his hitting was going to get him kicked out, and she said no, that they had seen much worse in the nursing home. She also had the insight that he was going from independency to total dependency for things like dressing, toileting, and sometimes eating (cutting up food), and he was striking out because of this loss of control. They'd seen it all before. I hold the women in very high regard. They are understanding and handling a job that I couldn't do, regardless of the pay. They do it with a positive attitude and with unwaivering patience for the people that are dependent on them. We could all learn from them.
He talked about the play he was in this week as we wheeled him down the street in his wheelchair. As a person who has looked down upon people with disablilities, for example "In order to get in here, you have to have somethng wrong with you" upon living in Tarrytown, he sees being in a wheelchair as a loss of worth and something he is being forced to endure. He can't understand why we don't just hand him the walker.
Upon sitting in the living room with Dad and the roomies, one of the roomies chided him about not using his walker (before the fall) and how he brought the broken hip on himself. "I told him! He's had three falls." Although I feel that her words are probably very painful and embarrassing for him, I think it's probably the only way he can hear the truth. He sure isn't going to hear it from my sister or myself, and if he's ever going to walk again, he's going to need friends like her to tell it like it is. Keep it up, gals!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Is He Always Like This?
This was the most frequent question I heard at the rehab. Dave's mental state deteriorated the longer he stayed, and the results were mixed. As of 8-25-2010 he was able to walk 100 feet with two people supporting him on each side. This was the good news. The bad news was that he was in a delusional state most of the time, never understanding that he was in a rehab facility. He became combative, refusing medication and refusing to cooperate with his nurses. Most of Wednesday he thought he was in a courtroom at a trial and everyone there (other patients) were members of the jury. The day before he was preparing for a speech he was supposed to give to a bunch of bad kids who liked being bad. It would be on his ex-girlfriend who was the granddaughter of a Mafia kingpin who put him up in a lean-to under the causeway in Galveston.
On Wednesday he tried to escape twice by getting into the wheelchair in his room and attempting to wheel himself out of the building. He also refused to stay in his bed and presented a major fall hazard by attempting to stand over and over. As soon as a nurse would leave the room, he'd try to get out of the bed again, setting off alarms. On Tuesday they asked me to get him a sitter at night, and by Wednesday they asked that I get one for the afternoons as well. I became the Wednesday afternoon sitter, but I told them he needed to go back to his assisted living facility since he didn't feel safe at the rehab. Of course, when I would sit with him, he would also make an effort to stand up (basically trying to swing up from a sitting position), but we surrounded his bed with the reclining chair I was sitting in and the hospital food table on the other side of the bed. I just kept saying, "Dad! You're making me miss my show!" and then he would lay back down. A cardinal rule everyone understands: Never get between someone and "their show." As the evening went on, every show was my show.
The saddest part about all this is that (1) he was making progress, but (2) he still can't stand or walk on his own and (3) he will get far less therapy with the home health care service with no equipment and much less space to move around. As delusional as he is, he never made the connection between staying in the rehab and working with them and an ambulatory future. As terrified as he was of the rehab situation, I felt that going back home was the least crappy choice.
I think his ability to walk again is poor due to the his extreme muscle atrophy, Parkinson's, confusion, continuing refusal to eat sufficiently to build muscle, and a broken hip. It may be that he will continue to have falls since the rails do not go all the way to the end of his hospital bed mattress and he can climb off. He will set off alarms if he does so, but he can always have a fall before anybody gets to the room. As they said at the rehab, "He's fast. I'll give him that."
So he went home and was in his new wheelchair. He spent the rest of the afternoon trying to get out of his wheelchair. They called to ask if they could belt him into the wheelchair and I said yes. I asked them if they possibly restrain him in the bed, but legally they cannot. I understand this law because I'm sure the practice has been abused in nursing homes for years, but NOT restraining him at night is going to lead to another fall, and another break, and I consider that much more cruel. About the best they can do is, if he won't calm down, put him in his wheelchair at night and take him from room to room with them as they do their other duties.
When the assisted living caregivers told him he couldn't walk on his own yet, he said, "I've been walking around all day!!" I don't think he's lying. I just think the dementia has put him in a very dangerous position. I don't hear the assisted living manager hesitating to take him back, but after a few days I think they may decide he's beyond what they are set up for and if that happens he will probably need to go to a nursing home. All any facility has to do to get rid of someone is to require a sitter. At $16.00 per hour, that's $160 per night. Not paid by Medicare.
****************************
Went to Dad's house to drop off sheets. He's much more at peace. Working on a wedding he's planning(?) Not happy because someone stole the guest list from his pocket, but happy to be home and telling the other tenants how much he missed them. Wheeling around in his wheelchair fairly well. Within a couple of days he'll be much more skilled.
On Wednesday he tried to escape twice by getting into the wheelchair in his room and attempting to wheel himself out of the building. He also refused to stay in his bed and presented a major fall hazard by attempting to stand over and over. As soon as a nurse would leave the room, he'd try to get out of the bed again, setting off alarms. On Tuesday they asked me to get him a sitter at night, and by Wednesday they asked that I get one for the afternoons as well. I became the Wednesday afternoon sitter, but I told them he needed to go back to his assisted living facility since he didn't feel safe at the rehab. Of course, when I would sit with him, he would also make an effort to stand up (basically trying to swing up from a sitting position), but we surrounded his bed with the reclining chair I was sitting in and the hospital food table on the other side of the bed. I just kept saying, "Dad! You're making me miss my show!" and then he would lay back down. A cardinal rule everyone understands: Never get between someone and "their show." As the evening went on, every show was my show.
The saddest part about all this is that (1) he was making progress, but (2) he still can't stand or walk on his own and (3) he will get far less therapy with the home health care service with no equipment and much less space to move around. As delusional as he is, he never made the connection between staying in the rehab and working with them and an ambulatory future. As terrified as he was of the rehab situation, I felt that going back home was the least crappy choice.
I think his ability to walk again is poor due to the his extreme muscle atrophy, Parkinson's, confusion, continuing refusal to eat sufficiently to build muscle, and a broken hip. It may be that he will continue to have falls since the rails do not go all the way to the end of his hospital bed mattress and he can climb off. He will set off alarms if he does so, but he can always have a fall before anybody gets to the room. As they said at the rehab, "He's fast. I'll give him that."
So he went home and was in his new wheelchair. He spent the rest of the afternoon trying to get out of his wheelchair. They called to ask if they could belt him into the wheelchair and I said yes. I asked them if they possibly restrain him in the bed, but legally they cannot. I understand this law because I'm sure the practice has been abused in nursing homes for years, but NOT restraining him at night is going to lead to another fall, and another break, and I consider that much more cruel. About the best they can do is, if he won't calm down, put him in his wheelchair at night and take him from room to room with them as they do their other duties.
When the assisted living caregivers told him he couldn't walk on his own yet, he said, "I've been walking around all day!!" I don't think he's lying. I just think the dementia has put him in a very dangerous position. I don't hear the assisted living manager hesitating to take him back, but after a few days I think they may decide he's beyond what they are set up for and if that happens he will probably need to go to a nursing home. All any facility has to do to get rid of someone is to require a sitter. At $16.00 per hour, that's $160 per night. Not paid by Medicare.
****************************
Went to Dad's house to drop off sheets. He's much more at peace. Working on a wedding he's planning(?) Not happy because someone stole the guest list from his pocket, but happy to be home and telling the other tenants how much he missed them. Wheeling around in his wheelchair fairly well. Within a couple of days he'll be much more skilled.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
David Goes to Rehab
On Friday I got a call from Presby that he had tied his hospital gown around his neck. Also that he kept trying to get out of bed, and could a family member come watch him. So I stayed with him and tried to work from his room on the computer. I couldn't however get online, so I just worked email from my Blackberry. Ever try to sit in on a one hour conference call with no mute button on the phone and someone yelling, "I want a piece of cherry pie right NOW!" Trying to climb out of bed all day, gown off most of the day, demanding clothes, food, to go home, you name it. The hospital finally came to my rescue when the nurse flew in and said, "Good news! The doctor has released you to go to Remington!" Thank God my babysitting day is OVER! The scary part: The nurse told me he hadn't given Dad any pain killer for days. This is the new Dave. No wonder we hadn't had any bad trips. He was not on pain killers. He asked every single nurse and tech, "Was that your mother who had the lead last night in that performance? She was terrific!"
In the early afternoon at Presby he walked with the physical therapist about 15 feet and was exhausted and had to return to his bed. This was good progress (if I ever get in an accident I want this lady. She was fantastic.) But after sleeping in the bed for thirty minutes he forgot he couldn't walk and began trying to sneak out of bed again. I thought maybe it was for the attention it affords him (people having to come in and lay him back down, or me standing at the bed on my Blackberry), but I also think he believes he can walk without help. He can't be convinced otherwise. This is a major problem. He will continue to hurt himself and will be wheelchair bound shortly.
When he went to rehab (another palace) at Remington, they assumed I would stay the night. I answered a few questions and left. I suggested they use restraints. They said "We don't do that here." I said, "Make sure he has a bed alarm." What I didn't add was, "...because he will require a person running in and out of the room all night to keep him in bed." The next evening I brought him clothes. I walk into his room, and there he was by himself, trying to get out of bed. The tech came in and asked if I am staying. I said, "No, I'm just dropping off clothes." She said "Let me know when you are leaving" and left the room. He immediately starts to climb out of bed and I said, "I'm leaving." He yells, "I'm just going to put on some pants so we can leave!!" I find the nurse and they put him in a wheelchair so he could be with them when they went about their other duties. I thought that was a very good solution. Nobody could work without Dave being supervised.
He walked twice in rehab today. I don't know how far or how long. The tech told me after rehab (when I assume he was totally exhausted) he came back to his room, and "Not ten minutes later he was climbing out of bed." Houston, we have a problem.
The rehab told me on the first day the bed goes all the way down to the floor. So my answer is to put it on the floor and let him crawl around. I guess they don't want him going down the hall like that, but hey, it IS exercise for the hip. It's all carpeted.
I think what I hate most about dementia is that no reasoning sinks in. To him he is perfectly capable of walking. He can't remember that it was a major struggle to go ten feet thirty minutes ago. It would be nice if, when he's in the mood to walk, someone were there to help him do so (it requires a trained physical therapist.) But I guess it's all scheduled. But if he can do five short walks per day with a 20 minute nap in between, that would be faster progress.
I'm trying hard to maintain my real life. As my piano teacher says, if you start canceling, canceling, canceling, the caregiver life takes over. I kept all my appointments yesterday, which included a guitar jam with Julie, a play with Pat, piano with Eric, three hours of catch up work at the office, and dinner with Leonidas. Whew. Today we move his old bed out of assisted living and I get a massage.
In the early afternoon at Presby he walked with the physical therapist about 15 feet and was exhausted and had to return to his bed. This was good progress (if I ever get in an accident I want this lady. She was fantastic.) But after sleeping in the bed for thirty minutes he forgot he couldn't walk and began trying to sneak out of bed again. I thought maybe it was for the attention it affords him (people having to come in and lay him back down, or me standing at the bed on my Blackberry), but I also think he believes he can walk without help. He can't be convinced otherwise. This is a major problem. He will continue to hurt himself and will be wheelchair bound shortly.
When he went to rehab (another palace) at Remington, they assumed I would stay the night. I answered a few questions and left. I suggested they use restraints. They said "We don't do that here." I said, "Make sure he has a bed alarm." What I didn't add was, "...because he will require a person running in and out of the room all night to keep him in bed." The next evening I brought him clothes. I walk into his room, and there he was by himself, trying to get out of bed. The tech came in and asked if I am staying. I said, "No, I'm just dropping off clothes." She said "Let me know when you are leaving" and left the room. He immediately starts to climb out of bed and I said, "I'm leaving." He yells, "I'm just going to put on some pants so we can leave!!" I find the nurse and they put him in a wheelchair so he could be with them when they went about their other duties. I thought that was a very good solution. Nobody could work without Dave being supervised.
He walked twice in rehab today. I don't know how far or how long. The tech told me after rehab (when I assume he was totally exhausted) he came back to his room, and "Not ten minutes later he was climbing out of bed." Houston, we have a problem.
The rehab told me on the first day the bed goes all the way down to the floor. So my answer is to put it on the floor and let him crawl around. I guess they don't want him going down the hall like that, but hey, it IS exercise for the hip. It's all carpeted.
I think what I hate most about dementia is that no reasoning sinks in. To him he is perfectly capable of walking. He can't remember that it was a major struggle to go ten feet thirty minutes ago. It would be nice if, when he's in the mood to walk, someone were there to help him do so (it requires a trained physical therapist.) But I guess it's all scheduled. But if he can do five short walks per day with a 20 minute nap in between, that would be faster progress.
I'm trying hard to maintain my real life. As my piano teacher says, if you start canceling, canceling, canceling, the caregiver life takes over. I kept all my appointments yesterday, which included a guitar jam with Julie, a play with Pat, piano with Eric, three hours of catch up work at the office, and dinner with Leonidas. Whew. Today we move his old bed out of assisted living and I get a massage.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
David Broke His Hip
David fell Tuesday morning at 1:00 a.m. and broke his hip. He was getting out of bed. He was taken to Presybeterian Hospital for X-rays, at which time they realized he had actually broken it. They did surgery at about 3:30. The surgery went very well. The doctors said he was going to stay there about a week and then go into rehab. They said they would get him up and walking the next day. As of this morning that had not happened, however. Some of this is probably because of his poor balance. They did put him on the side of the bed to sit up. He is comfortable and does not appear to be in pain at all. In the past he did not react well to opiates. This time he's doing OK with it. He is in la la land, but it's a happy place for him this time. He can recognize people on TV and joke with the nurses. This was a clean break and they put pins in. No hip replacement.
The goal now is to do a few things to prevent future falls at his assisted living house. We're are going to get him a hospital bed with rails and an alarm so that when he sits up to start standing at night, someone will come in his bedroom and assist him.
Hopefully this will be a pretty easy recovery, but as we know, the longer he lays in bed without walking, the longer it will take to become mobile. They told him he could put as much weight on it as he wanted.
Here's his contact info:
Texas Health Presbyterian Hospital Dallas
8200 Walnut Hill Lane
Dallas, TX 75231
214-345-6789 Room 446.
He can't reach the phone. You will need to ask for the nurse's station and get them to help him with the phone. He brings up the family all the time.
The goal now is to do a few things to prevent future falls at his assisted living house. We're are going to get him a hospital bed with rails and an alarm so that when he sits up to start standing at night, someone will come in his bedroom and assist him.
Hopefully this will be a pretty easy recovery, but as we know, the longer he lays in bed without walking, the longer it will take to become mobile. They told him he could put as much weight on it as he wanted.
Here's his contact info:
Texas Health Presbyterian Hospital Dallas
8200 Walnut Hill Lane
Dallas, TX 75231
214-345-6789 Room 446.
He can't reach the phone. You will need to ask for the nurse's station and get them to help him with the phone. He brings up the family all the time.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
The Shopaholic
Before Dad's big fall I gather that his favorite past time was walking across the street to the drug store and buying over the counter drugs and personal necessities. When we moved him the first time to assisted living in Houston, we found at least four bottles of aspirin, and lots of packages of cold medicine, along with partially used gauze bandages and tons of drugstore junk. In assisted living, however, to keep up the shopping, he had to have someone drive him to the store and give him money. So we have a couple of built in problems with that: Going to the drugstore a couple of times a week for things you already have (and I've checked) is not a good use of anybody's time, he's currently living beyond what he's got coming in from pensions and SS just to be in assisted living, and he's having more falls. We've had three falls in the last three months, the last one a week ago and fortunately nothing was broken.
Today I had him over to our house to listen to me practice piano and guitar. Not super stimulating, but it gets him out of the house. He promptly fell asleep. Then he brought up needing to go to the drugstore. He gets very angry when I do not give him money and take him to the drugstore to let him buy things he "needs". When I tell him to make me a list and I will buy him what he needs if he doesn't already have it, he said he has a cold and needs cold medicine. He has no cold symptoms. I told him he didn't have a cold (his symptom was his blood pressure was 20 points up, per him.) I let him my blood pressure fluctuates sometimes 50 points per day and that's not unusual. It doesn't mean you have a cold. He said he doesn't know what he needed, but he'd know when he saw it. I told him he's been falling a lot lately and if we went to the store and he fell, I'd have to call an ambulance, so the answer was no. He was very mad and said no one's had to call an ambulance for the last three falls. I said, that's because people were willing to risking putting their back out to lift him. I wasn't willing to do that. He asked "Does this mean you'll never take me to the store again?" and I answered "yes". Then he wanted me to take him home. I took him back and told him I'd see him next week.
Part of our problem is his inability to use the walker very well. This is partially the dementia, but also unfamiliarity. He tried to leave it at his house when we were getting ready to leave. The caregivers have to nag him to use it when he stands up. When he gets out of a car, he won't use the walker as a tool, but hangs on the door jam and tries to kind of sit in the walker. He can't seem to manage getting the front wheels up over a low step or even a welcome mat.
I have a bit of a balancing act: (1) Don't let myself get worn out doing things just to "keep him happy" and (2) being reasonable. I see the spending compulsion as a bad habit. Once upon a time he might have been able to afford to blow $100 a week on non-necessities and things he already had four boxes of, but those days are well behind us. My best solution is to get a list from a caregiver, ask another caregiver to search his bin to see if he has the stuff on the list, and then ask her to show him his stuff. We made a trip to his house in the middle of the week (through rush hour) to fix his glasses and give him a used watch. It's not his fault he has no concept of what people go through to keep the Dave machine up and running. He doesn't even know he's in Dallas.
I didn't expect him to be a happy camper, and I was right. However, I think he is still happier than he was before with the new roomies and caregivers, whether he thinks so or not. He thinks the last place was better.
This is a man who never bought a shirt until my mother had been gone five years. I could have guessed a few possible habits he might have taken up, but shopaholism was not one of them. I want to treat him like my boyfriend said he would treat me when we first started going together, "I'm not going to spend a lot of money on you, but I will spend a lot of time with you." Dad doesn't really get "quality time", but I think "acting as if" he does will eventually help the relationship. For example, I look forward to taking him to parks when it cools off. The good thing about dementia, in a couple of days, the argument is forgotten.
I just keep in mind what the marketing manager said when we moved him in, "The only reason people leave here is because they run out of money and have to move to a state facility." If he lives ten or fifteen years, that's possible. I doubt that will happen, but it won't happen with the Tick in charge. (Tight as a tick. Get it? That's me.)
Mel
Today I had him over to our house to listen to me practice piano and guitar. Not super stimulating, but it gets him out of the house. He promptly fell asleep. Then he brought up needing to go to the drugstore. He gets very angry when I do not give him money and take him to the drugstore to let him buy things he "needs". When I tell him to make me a list and I will buy him what he needs if he doesn't already have it, he said he has a cold and needs cold medicine. He has no cold symptoms. I told him he didn't have a cold (his symptom was his blood pressure was 20 points up, per him.) I let him my blood pressure fluctuates sometimes 50 points per day and that's not unusual. It doesn't mean you have a cold. He said he doesn't know what he needed, but he'd know when he saw it. I told him he's been falling a lot lately and if we went to the store and he fell, I'd have to call an ambulance, so the answer was no. He was very mad and said no one's had to call an ambulance for the last three falls. I said, that's because people were willing to risking putting their back out to lift him. I wasn't willing to do that. He asked "Does this mean you'll never take me to the store again?" and I answered "yes". Then he wanted me to take him home. I took him back and told him I'd see him next week.
Part of our problem is his inability to use the walker very well. This is partially the dementia, but also unfamiliarity. He tried to leave it at his house when we were getting ready to leave. The caregivers have to nag him to use it when he stands up. When he gets out of a car, he won't use the walker as a tool, but hangs on the door jam and tries to kind of sit in the walker. He can't seem to manage getting the front wheels up over a low step or even a welcome mat.
I have a bit of a balancing act: (1) Don't let myself get worn out doing things just to "keep him happy" and (2) being reasonable. I see the spending compulsion as a bad habit. Once upon a time he might have been able to afford to blow $100 a week on non-necessities and things he already had four boxes of, but those days are well behind us. My best solution is to get a list from a caregiver, ask another caregiver to search his bin to see if he has the stuff on the list, and then ask her to show him his stuff. We made a trip to his house in the middle of the week (through rush hour) to fix his glasses and give him a used watch. It's not his fault he has no concept of what people go through to keep the Dave machine up and running. He doesn't even know he's in Dallas.
I didn't expect him to be a happy camper, and I was right. However, I think he is still happier than he was before with the new roomies and caregivers, whether he thinks so or not. He thinks the last place was better.
This is a man who never bought a shirt until my mother had been gone five years. I could have guessed a few possible habits he might have taken up, but shopaholism was not one of them. I want to treat him like my boyfriend said he would treat me when we first started going together, "I'm not going to spend a lot of money on you, but I will spend a lot of time with you." Dad doesn't really get "quality time", but I think "acting as if" he does will eventually help the relationship. For example, I look forward to taking him to parks when it cools off. The good thing about dementia, in a couple of days, the argument is forgotten.
I just keep in mind what the marketing manager said when we moved him in, "The only reason people leave here is because they run out of money and have to move to a state facility." If he lives ten or fifteen years, that's possible. I doubt that will happen, but it won't happen with the Tick in charge. (Tight as a tick. Get it? That's me.)
Mel
Sunday, August 8, 2010
David Has Cool Roommates
David had a fall this morning trying to stand up from a chair. He and the chair both went down. However, he is fine and doesn't appear to have any pain at all.
I got back from Portland today and went to visit him at his assisted living facility today for a couple of hours. Rather than stressing us both out with a trip away from his new home, I thought it would be better to hang out there. So I brought watercolors to play with, and he was about to enter another card game when I got there. It works very well; the caregivers help those who can't remember to play or don't have the cognitive skills to play, or don't know the rules. Dad fell into the latter category. It was Crazy Eights. They played while I put on a painting demonstration.
While I was there, I observed some things that were uplifting. Dad was laughing and making jokes with his new housemates. He didn't get impatient at all with the ones who couldn't remember to play or kept saying the same thing or asking the same question over and over. In other words, he fit right in and was truly happy about it. About the sixth time Edith said "I WON!" Dad rolled his eyes like, "Can you believe this." When everyone caught him at it, they all had a good laugh, including Edith and Dad.
Another milestone (and this is a biggy): He said, "Isn't Bill having a birthday tomorrow?" Bill is one of the residents. I don't know what's bigger, Dad's remembering Bill's name, or remembering that he had a birthday tomorrow. The question came up by the group: what was I going to do with the painting? I said, "Well, I thought I'd give it to Bill, the birthday boy." Then Dad told me he was blind. I said, that's OK, and everyone agreed it would still be a good idea. I gave it to Bill when he was sitting at dinner. The caregiver described the painting which was a mountain/river landscape from an Oregon travel brochure. Charlotte is another resident. She used to be a very active artist "in her youth". Oils, watercolors, everything.
One of the other residents was a movie actress, and she and I had both played in Fiddler on the Roof, she a midsize role in the movie and I one of the daughters in the play. It was such an honor to meet her, and I told her that my sister and I had both played Spritza and Byelke, and Dad popped off, "And my wife played Grandma Tzietel!" We made her so happy that we actually knew the name of her character and were familiar with her part and a bunch of the other characters.
I don't know that every visit will be this great. But this one was definitely incredible. They are going to watch the movie Fiddler on the Roof tonight to see her play her role. I told Dad I'd come see him some time next week.
I got back from Portland today and went to visit him at his assisted living facility today for a couple of hours. Rather than stressing us both out with a trip away from his new home, I thought it would be better to hang out there. So I brought watercolors to play with, and he was about to enter another card game when I got there. It works very well; the caregivers help those who can't remember to play or don't have the cognitive skills to play, or don't know the rules. Dad fell into the latter category. It was Crazy Eights. They played while I put on a painting demonstration.
While I was there, I observed some things that were uplifting. Dad was laughing and making jokes with his new housemates. He didn't get impatient at all with the ones who couldn't remember to play or kept saying the same thing or asking the same question over and over. In other words, he fit right in and was truly happy about it. About the sixth time Edith said "I WON!" Dad rolled his eyes like, "Can you believe this." When everyone caught him at it, they all had a good laugh, including Edith and Dad.
Another milestone (and this is a biggy): He said, "Isn't Bill having a birthday tomorrow?" Bill is one of the residents. I don't know what's bigger, Dad's remembering Bill's name, or remembering that he had a birthday tomorrow. The question came up by the group: what was I going to do with the painting? I said, "Well, I thought I'd give it to Bill, the birthday boy." Then Dad told me he was blind. I said, that's OK, and everyone agreed it would still be a good idea. I gave it to Bill when he was sitting at dinner. The caregiver described the painting which was a mountain/river landscape from an Oregon travel brochure. Charlotte is another resident. She used to be a very active artist "in her youth". Oils, watercolors, everything.
One of the other residents was a movie actress, and she and I had both played in Fiddler on the Roof, she a midsize role in the movie and I one of the daughters in the play. It was such an honor to meet her, and I told her that my sister and I had both played Spritza and Byelke, and Dad popped off, "And my wife played Grandma Tzietel!" We made her so happy that we actually knew the name of her character and were familiar with her part and a bunch of the other characters.
I don't know that every visit will be this great. But this one was definitely incredible. They are going to watch the movie Fiddler on the Roof tonight to see her play her role. I told Dad I'd come see him some time next week.
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