"The Things They Make Me Do!"

Dad has never been one for following orders; he's more inclined to give them. Living in a care facility with dementia means being told what to do most of the time and in Dad's case he'll let you know he is not happy with the things he is made to do.

For instance on our visit on Friday, May 16, Dad was seated in the main dining room where many of the residents were participating in various activities designed for engagement. And there was Dad, sitting in his chair, fast asleep ("I'll show them..."). In fact most of the residents sitting on the side of the room Dad was in were all asleep, while on the other side, the group was wide awake and participating in the activity.

The staff member leading the activity was having the group spell out words with a Hawaiian theme. She asked the group to spell coconut, then to spell Honolulu, then luau. One resident yelled out, L U "OW." The group laughed, Dad did not. We encourage Dad to participate but we got "the look" instead.

Here are three photos taken during the activity. Note "the look" on Dad's face:

"I don't want to be here."

"Good, he's leaving."

"I want to go back to sleep!"

The top photo is me with my daughter, Tabitha, and my granddaughter, Venice, standing behind my Dad (Shelley took the photos). Notice the look he gave me when I walked away. That's the way that visit with Dad turned out to be and I believe through the whole visit and activity he was thinking, "The things they make me do!"

The State of Dad's Condition
Our visit on May 16 was after we had meet with Sherry, one of the staff's directors, to review Dad's overall condition since our last "care" meeting. Sherry told us that Dad is up most days, he is eating in the dining room more, instead of his room, and likes to have his back rubbed. He is eating well and maintaining a weight of 137 lbs.

Even though Dad was in a bad mood that Friday by Sunday, when I visited him again, he was in a much better mood. He was able to speak briefly with his daughter, Joyce, in San Antonio, while I held my cell phone for him.

The "Oh Boy" Phone Call
On another visit back on April 18, Dad spoke with his son Bruce, who lives in Southern California. During that call the phrase, "Oh Boy" seemed lead every comment each of us made or was part of a response to a question. Between the three of us, we probably uttered "oh boy" at least eight times!

That's all for this update; thanks for reading!

Dad Logic: "I see two feet, one on each foot."

After a month of seemingly endless illnesses, Shelley and I finally were able to visit Dad today. Today is a beautiful spring day so we to back roads to the nursing home. The pastures and vineyards are green and filled with colorful wildflowers. When we arrived, we found Dad sitting in the main dining room with other residents watching television.

I wheeled him out so we could visit at our usual spot and talk. He seemed to be in a good mood, was talkative and laughed with us. I called Joyce, his daughter, so they could talk. When Joyce asked, "Who is there with you?" He answered, "Him and Her."  (Dad logic).

His back was itching so Shelley wheeled him over to the nurses station to see if they could put some cream to help ease the itching. Meanwhile, I finished the conversation with Joyce.

We sat with Dad as he looked out the large picture window watching cars drive by. He kept saying, "Look at that! There goes another! Yes Sir...oh, God...there goes another!" He stayed fixated on the cars going back and forth until I wheeled him around the facility. When we arrived back at the same spot, I positioned the wheelchair to face the courtyard instead of the street. So there we sat looking out at the courtyard. Then Dad raised his legs and told us to look at his feet. I asked, "What do you see?" He responded, "I see two feet, one on each foot." Can't argue with that!

Dad looking out the window at cars zooming by.

Dad's view of the street.

Shelley capturing our moments.

Dad, now facing the courtyard.

Our feet, one on each foot!

Taking a selfie.

Family Visits with Dad - Then & Now

Yes, I know, another blog update. This one, however, features family visits with Dad (in-person or by phone) within the last 30 days. One set of photos were taken at his nursing home recently and the "older" photos are probably how Dad may see us in his mind.

Granddaughter Tabitha, her husband Kevin,
and great-granddaughter Venice

Kevin, Tabitha & Dad 2006 in San Antonio

Joeann holding phone with her Dad,
Joe, talking to his brother, my Dad

Uncle Joe - way back in the day

Dad with niece Joeann, husband Miguel,
and daughters Maya & Emma

Me talking with Dad

Tabitha, holding her daughter Venice,
speaking with Dad

Shelley, Tabitha & Me - 1977

Me holding phone so Joyce can hear Dad's voice

Joyce many, many, many years ago

Joeann holding phone with her sister
Brenda on the line in San Antonio

Joeann, Laura & Brenda

Everyone watching Dad talking to his brother Joe

Fading Memories

One of the benefits of aging is having collected a lifetime of wonderful memories that make us smile or laugh at the things we no longer do. However, as we age our memories begin to fade or they just don't come to mind as they once did. Fading memories accelerate when a loved one is in the grips of Alzheimer's. Witnessing a loved one's memories fade is tragic and sobering. We realize it could happen to us.

Here are some of my Dad's memories of times gone by:

My Dad with his parents walking in downtown San Antonio, Texas in the late 1930s.

Here is a photo of Dad taken in 1968 when he played for the San Antonians,
a softball team that toured New Zealand in February of that year. 

Dad and Joyce. Can you tell what year it is by the hairstyles and glasses?

Dad had this studio photo taken in the early 80s.

Here is Dad today. His memories are the "here and now" with "bits and pieces" of the past.

November Happenings with Dad

November 2013 is now a memory. Here are some of the happenings we shared with Dad during the month.

November 16th (from my journal): "Our visit with Dad went well. He was awake and dressed but in bed when we arrived. His dinner tray was on his table but he didn't seem to have eaten much. With some encouragement and help he ate more. Called Joyce but she was sick and couldn't talk long."

November 21: Quarterly Care Meeting was held today. Since Shelley and I could not attend in person we had a phone conference instead with the staff. However, Tabitha and Venice were able to attend in person and that was a great help!

Dad is doing well considering how the Alzheimer's is slowly advancing. We agreed to take turns paying for Dad's podiatry care because his insurance covers the care every 60 days and he needs it to be done every 30 days. We also agreed to buy him some new slippers since his original shoes have somehow disappeared (we wrote his name on the new shoes to hopefully avoid "getting lost"). All our concerns were addressed.

After the meeting Tabitha and Venice visited with Dad. Dad loves children and especially babies. He always has a big smile for Venice, his great-granddaughter, when she visits. This time, however, Dad started to cry, which resulted in Venice crying too. Tabitha explained to Dad that if he stopped crying so would Venice. It worked! They both stopped crying.

November 24th: Lunch with Dad. Shelley, Tabitha, Venice and I enjoyed a two-hour lunch with Dad. Here is a short video of our luncheon.

Thanks for reading and watching!

An Eventful October

Long gone is the annual early morning call on the 11^th from Dad, taking advantage of the two hour time difference between Texas and California. Also gone are intact memories of family, friends and the events that he cherished. Now his days fluctuate between aggressive anger to uncontrollable crying with moments of laughter.

However, our visit with Dad on Saturday the 12^th, he outwardly seemed his old self. He was in a good mood, smiling as we entered his room. He wasn't quite sure who we were but he was happy to see us. This was a good time to call his daughter Joyce so she too could experience Dad’s good mood. After talking with Joyce he remained receptive to talking so I called his son Bruce. They talked and laughed. Then he got tired so we left. It was a good day and visit for us all.

Dad’s Visit to the Dentist

Ten days later, Dad had a scheduled dentist appointment for a tooth extraction. Shelley and I went to the nursing home before his 11:00 a.m. appointment to make sure everything was in order and see what kind of mood he was in. Previous dentist visits have taken place at the nursing home and at the last visit he became very aggressive to the point where the exam could not be completed. This time he would be transported by ambulance to the dentist office the next town up the 101 in Novato.  I had a restless night trying to plan for every possible scenario we might have to deal with. That was futile.

When we arrived at the nursing home, Dad was dressed, sitting in his wheelchair in the main dining room with other residents. I went in to see how he was doing and I got the now typical, “Who are you?” look. I just started talking as if we’d been talking for a while. As we were talking, he was looking at someone across the room. I could tell something was up as he locked on the person with an angry look. Dad yelled across the room, “What are you looking at?” Everyone in the dining room looked at Dad. To diffuse the situation I told Dad, “He’s looking at you because you have a pretty face.” Dad instantly started laughing and everyone went back to whatever they were doing. Confrontation averted.

The ambulance arrived and the two paramedics worked well with Dad getting him onto the gurney but, upon arrival at the dentist office, Dad started getting upset. He wouldn't let them take the seat-belt off, he yelled, “Get your hand off there!” The paramedics asked Shelley to come help him calm down. Shelley first said, “Dad you have to let go.” He just looked at her with a frightened look. Then Shelley said, “David, you need to let go so they can help you.” And he did but kept complaining that it was cold. It was quite a process for the paramedics to get him from the gurney to the wheelchair then on to the dentist chair. Shelley held his hand through the ordeal, while I was handling the paperwork at the reception desk. Shelley stayed with Dad up to when the IV was administered with the anesthesia. Then the dentist took over. Dad was so scared.

 

Shelley trying to wake Dad after the procedure.

The procedure went well and Dad slowly woke up from the anesthesia. The paramedics got him ready for the return trip to the nursing home. It was exhausting!

Four days later we visited Dad. He seemed very agitated and confused. His laughing/crying moments bordered on hysterical at times. I called Joyce but their conversation was difficult. Dad was very distracted. A little later he showed signs of not wanting visitors so we said good night and left his room. A few seconds later, while we were in the lobby, we could hear Dad babbling loudly. It was very distressful but that is what life is like when a loved one is dealing with Alzheimer’s.  

Dad showing us the butter.

Dad's "Robin Williams" smile for the camera.

Talking to Joyce.

Laughing with Joyce.

Me getting tired holding the phone while talking to Joyce.

An nursing home "Oh well" -
Dad's dinner order states, dislikes green beans.
Notice what he got with his dinner.
Oh well...

Four Generations

On Thursday, August 22, we met with the Pine Ridge staff that takes care of Dad for our regular Quarterly Care Meeting. Considering all Dad is dealing with, he is doing quite well. He is eating most of his meals and often eats in the dining room with other residents. He is maintaining his weight at about 130 lbs. He is mobile in a special wheel chair and he looks good.

After the meeting, four generations visited and Dad met one of his six great-granddaughters for the first time. Dad was in a fairly good mood but, as you will see in the video, he has moments where he has a blank look or stare, like he is lost somewhere in time. Enjoy the video and thanks for your interest in following my Dad's battle with Alzheimer's.

Dad with Tabitha and Venice