Seems Like Only Yesterday

The Manriquez Family - Summer 1964

My Great-Grandmother, Me, Mom, & Grandma 1953

Me & Dad 1953

Dad Says Hello

I took this short RealPlayer video with my phone, so the quality is not all that great and I'm not sure how much you'll be able to hear. I asked him if he'd like to say hello to his brothers and sisters but he can't remember their names, so he looks at the family photo on the wall. He knows who you are...

Here are some photos of recent visits by Joyce, Bruce, Jeremy, Tabitha, and Kevin:

Dad's Latest Visit to the ER

We are becoming "regulars" at the Sutter Medical Center ER. Dad has visited the ER 3 times within a month. Here is what led to his latest visit (copied from an email I send Joyce and Bruce this morning):

Here's what happened. Dad is becoming increasingly obstinate and out of touch with what he can and cannot do. And, of course, he is weaker and loses his balance frequently (this past Sunday he fell 4 times of which I had to lift him 2 of those times and now I have a sore back). So yesterday, after seeing his doctor for a follow up, we stopped to get some burger since it was already 4:00 pm. I told him to go sit on his chair in his room and I'd bring him his food. Everything was set and ready. The next thing I know he is standing holding the TV folding table trying to figure out how it works. I go in and take the tray and tell him to sit down. Of course he is upset because I'm treating him like a child. As he turns around to sit, he loses his balance and falls sideways into the heater.

Now I'm struggling to lift him off the heater, that is on, and his foot is wedged under his bed so finally with Shelley's help we get him up and into his chair. He seems okay, just really pissed off and, not to be out done, I demonstrate that I am more pissed off because he won't listen to me. It gets ugly. And now he refuses to eat his lunch.
I am so upset I had to leave the house. I went to Target because I needed to pick up a new prescription for dad and get more Ensure and Depends. When I get back Shelley tells me that Dad is saying he's in pain and "It hurts like hell."
Shelley calls the nurse on call and he says to go to the ER. Getting ready to go to the ER, Shelley notices he's wet and she wants to change him. He doesn't want to be changed and is literally fighting us. I tell him his choice is to let me do it or I call the ambulance to have him restrained on the board. He relents somewhat and I get him changed.

At the ER, It's is deja-vu. Been here, done this, and it actually goes smoothly. What it comes down to is he has a fractured rib and is now on a heavy duty pain pill. It will take 6 week to heal and will take place at home. We are being given all this instructions on what to do and Shelley and I look at each with a look that says "[insert bad word]!"
So here I am writing to you two as my therapy and  because I'm trying to wake up after another bad night...
If you think this email is long, be grateful I didn't write the long version...

Today he seems to be doing better, however, he still refuses to use the walker and gave the nurses aide a bit of a difficult time for his bath. But it gotten done and he doesn't remember falling or the ER visit. This time, I told him, I took pictures to prove it!

Till next time!

A Traumatic Week

It is just after 1:00 a.m. Pacific Time, I am updating the blog while it's my shift to keep an eye on Dad. My daughter and her husband finished their shift a midnight, while Shelley and I slept. Shelley's shift begins at 5:00 a.m. We are taking turns because Dad has had a traumatic week with two ER visits, both by ambulance, and a 3-day hospital stay.

You all know how the week began from my previous post. Since his hospital release on Wednesday, Dad is supposed to be using a walker at all times. However, his dementia causes him to forget so we have to constantly remind him so that using a walker will become a pattern. Not an easy task!

This past Friday, Dad got out of bed to go to the bathroom, which is about 10 feet from his bed. As I was sitting at my computer in my office next to his bedroom, I heard a loud crash. As I quickly turned around I saw Dad laying face-down in the hallway between his bedroom and the bathroom. Rushing over to help, I notice blood coming out his right side and I could not move him. I yelled to Shelley to call 911 and within minutes the paramedics were here followed by the fire department.

The paramedics were great and as soon as I mentioned that he is suffering from dementia they provided the appropriate assistance. Once again Dad's sense of humor was in action. As the paramedics were assessing his injuries, they had to move his head to which Dad said, "Hey, my head's not a basketball!"

We arrived at the Sutter Medical Center ER around 5:45 p.m. on Friday and there we stayed until 12:30 a.m. Saturday. My wonderful daughter stayed with me and Dad, while Shelley and Kevin, my son-in-law, waited in the hospital's "quiet room." Tabitha helped me reassure Dad and repeated to him what was happening. A few times Dad did not remember who she was. Tabitha held his hand and spoke soothingly to him.

It was a busy Friday night at the ER. In the bed next to Dad was an 89 year old stroke victim that was not expected to make it through the night. Even though the curtains were draw we could hear all that was going on and the very difficult decision the family had to make. He was later transported to a special facility in San Francisco.

About an hour later, another person was brought in by the police. This person was hearing voices and wanted an x-ray taken of his head so he could prove that "chip" had been implanted in his head. It was an X-Files episode.

Finally, in the wee hours of Saturday, Dad was completely checked out, clean-up, and ready to go home. After getting him to bed at 1:00 a.m. I stayed up with him util 5:00 a.m when Shelley relieved me and I got 4 hours of a deep, sound sleep. So here I am 24 hours later on my second shift of Dad watch.

A traumatic week for us all!

This is the Sutter Medical Center of Santa Rosa, CA where Dad  spent most of the week.

Dad's Sense of Humor..Or Is It?

Many of you may already know that Dad spent all day yesterday in the ER and was admitted to Sutter Hospital here in Santa Rosa, CA. His condition is serious with a diagnosis of acute renal failure, however he is responding to treatment. The doctors will be taking tests daily to assess how his kidney's are responding and based on those results will determine what next steps we take. His condition with dementia also limits what treatments are available to him, for example he is not a candidate for dialysis. More on his condition as I get the information from his doctors and nurses and I'll pass it on to you.

And now about Dad's sense of humor. This story was related to me from the night nurse about what happened early this morning:

The nurse supervisor laid her glasses down on Dad's tray-table and Dad picked them up. The nurse said that "those are my glasses" and Dad said, "no they're mine!" Then Dad said, "Prove that they're your glasses." So the Nurse said, "Put them on." And, of course, Dad couldn't clearly see through them. So Dad takes the glasses off and looks at the nurse and says, "Well, you still don't look good."

Seems everyone got a laugh and the story has been making the rounds. Those of us that know Dad know he was serious!

Here are two photos I took of Dad today:

Dad Says Hi to Everyone!

I Turned 104 Today!

Time sure flies by while getting old!

Today I turned a 104. How did I advance in age so quickly? Well, here's what happened, today being Monday is a visit to Primrose day for Dad. During our drive to Primrose, Dad was very quiet, looking out the window and trying to make sense of things. When we arrived at the Primrose parking lot, he looked at the building and recognized where he was and that's a good thing. We took our usual walk to the building where he stays during his visit there.

As we entered the building, we walked to the kitchen where the Director and an other employee were doing some work. They looked at Dad and give him his usual welcome, "Hi Dave! How are you?" Dad similes and asks, "Have you met my Dad?" And he looks over to me. For a split second everyone assess to see if he's joking or serious. It is very clear from his body language that he is serious. The Director responses to Dad with a big simile and says, "Why yes, we've met." And Dad says, "Oh, good." And he goes and takes his place with the others. Those of you who know my Dad well, know when he is serious and when he's joking. He was serious this morning.

So that's how I aged to 104 today, the age my grandfather would have been if he were still alive. It's not fun getting old...

Dad's Parents (He keeps this photo in his wallet)

Conversations with Dad

Conversation 1: The time is 12:30 a.m. and I hear Dad in the dining room so I get out of  bed to go check on him. He's just sitting in the dining room in the dark waiting. I startle him when I enter the room and ask him what's going on. He said, "I'm waiting to get a ride home." I replied with, "You are home and it's 12:30 in the morning, go back to your room and go to sleep, I'm going to the bathroom." He says okay and gets up from the chair and he heads towards his room. I go to the bathroom. While in the bathroom I hear the bells on the front door jiggling (the bells are there to alert us when he's trying to go out the door). In my mind I'm saying "damn, damn!" So I hurry and you know how that goes when you try to hurry. Fortunately, Shelley heard the bells too and she took over dealing with Dad. I went back to bed and Shelley spoke with him to calm him down and reassure him.

Conversation 2: It is now 2:20 a.m. and I hear Dad in the dining room again. Once again I get out of bed to go check on him and as I do so Shelley whispers, "Be patient." I enter the dining room and ask Dad, "What's going on?" He asks me if I have the number for his home on Ceralvo Street, "So I can call someone to come and get me." (Dad has not lived on Ceralvo Street since 1969.) Heeding Shelley's advice, I sit down to talk to him. Dad proceeds to tell that his army buddies have been furloughed and are heading home and he wants to go home too. I tell him that San Antonio is about 2,000 miles away and that he is staying with us now. Dad continues the conversation by telling about his day at Primrose. He tells me about the different people there and how they all speak different languages. He says he thinks they all have the same problem with "This "dementia stuff that doesn't help him one bit."

Now about 20 minutes into conversation 2, Dad asks me if I knew where "Jay was taking the car load of cousins?" I now realize he does not know that he is speaking to me, his son. I'd been expecting this to eventually happen but I was still not emotionally prepared as I held back tears. A few minutes later he's taking to me again with the realization that I am his son.

He continues to speak to me about his thoughts on people and their differences. I am surprised to hear his prejudices and stereotypes about different ethnic groups and his explanation of why they are "that way." It is now 3:00 a.m. and I can hardly stay awake. I suggest we go to bed and continue our conversation in the morning. He agrees and goes to bed, this time escort him to his room.

Conversation 3: It is now 11:15 a.m. and I wake Dad up so he can eat his breakfast. As he walks to the dining table I ask him about our conversation earlier this morning. He looks at me puzzled and says, "What conversation?"

For some unknown reason Dad has had a rough few days and has been quite agitated. He even had "words" with the relative of one of his Primrose cohorts during a social event at the facility. It is now 3:00 p.m. and he is sitting watching TV. I'm writing this post trying to keep from falling asleep...

Dad laughing because he forgot to comb his hair after his shower.