About My Dad

I've been writing a lot about my mom...okay, so the majority of my blog has been about my mom. But I've never really written about the toll that her illness and absence from my parents' home has affected my dad. He and I haven't really gotten along since I was about 8 or so. I used to be a "Daddy's Girl," but for some reason that changed and we started arguing a lot. The older I got, the worse it got, and by the time I entered my 20s, we hardly spoke. I pretty much stayed in my room all day and he stayed out in the living room. He was hurt by this but for me, I honestly started to dislike him. And then when I moved out, if I didn't say goodbye when I left after a visit, he would be hurt and tell my mom I didn't care about him. What an odd relationship we had. But since my mom became ill, we've probably spent more time together than we have in our entire lives. We've gotten along better, but mostly because he needs me and I feel sorry for him. However, we don't argue anymore. We get along pretty good, because I think we need each other and I'm starting to better understand him.

First I have to tell you a little about him. He's got his aches and pains, but I think a lot of the time he exaggerates to get more sympathy. Much of the time, my mom and I don't know if he is really sick or just looking for attention. It got so we thought that he was "crying wolf" most of the time.

He's also suffered from anxiety disorder and clinical depression for most of his life, so you can imagine (especially those of you who have any experience with this disorder) what that is like. He gets pretty grouchy or down at times, and at other times he'll get all riled up for no good reason (but he'd think it was for a good reason).

His memory has also been fading as he has gotten older, which of course, is normal. Annoying, but normal...and not too terribly bad. A lot of the time, it seems like it was not his memory that is the problem, but his lack of paying attention to people talking to him...he just doesn't LISTEN! And then later he'd say he forgot, but when we'd talk to him there's just a way you can TELL that he's not listening...he kind of gazes off, or maybe will start looking at something else, or when he responds to what we'd say, it would be about a completely different topic. And then a few minutes later he'll ask, "What was that you said?"

I mentioned that he and I didn't get along, but he drives my poor mom crazy. It's not that they argue like he and I did, he's just very hard to live with; always wanting things HIS WAY and acting spoiled if he doesn't get what he wanted. My parents have a very traditional marriage, so he's always looking to my mom as...well, as how women were supposed to act back when the man worked and the woman stayed home and took care of the house and kids. Very rarely does she get to do what she wants. And he has his temper tantrums a lot...that's probably where I got my temper. If things don't go his way, or he can't find something, or he is just irritated by something, it was best to just go as far away as possible and leave him alone. My mom has always taken care of all of his needs and that has always been what he's expected of her. She long ago gave up trying to voice her opinion or try to do what SHE wanted to keep order in the house; basically to keep him "happy" and as calm and content as possible.

So, when my mom first got sick, my dad didn't quite know what to do with himself, and I don't think he realized the extent of how sick she really was...losing all that weight, not eating, etc. And then after hurting her leg...I still think maybe he was in some kind of denial or something. Almost every day when I took her to a doctor or to get a test run, he would help me help her out to the car. He would ask over and over if we wanted him to come with us, but it seemed that it always hurt more than it helped for him to come along...he just sort of got in the way. He'd ask a lot of things over and over...if I'd be okay alone, where we were going that day, and like I said, he mostly asked if we needed him to come with us.

It also seemed like he did very little to take care of her, especially when she was unable to walk because of her leg. He would come in and check on her, ask her if she was okay, if she needed anything to eat or drink, etc. But he CONSTANTLY did that...I mean way more than was needed. So he did care and want to help, but he just didn't realize how much help my mom needed.

Finally, when she had to go to the hospital that day was very frustrating. I've written about the whole ordeal but the thing was, I called her as soon as I got the call from her endocrinologist and told her that he wanted us to get her to the hospital immediately. I called her next-door neighbor and asked her to help my mom get ready, and told my mom I'd be there as fast as I could. By the time I got there, her neighbor had not come over, and my dad was out in the living room watching television like nothing was going on. I asked him why he didn't help her get ready and it was like he didn't understand the urgency of the situation.

When we got her ready, this time he came with us. I'm glad he did because otherwise he would have been sitting at home all alone all day, not knowing what was going on, as he, Jeff, and I spent almost an entire day getting her admitted to the hospital and then staying with her. I won't go to into all of the details, as I have in previous entries; I just wanted to try to write from my dad's point of view as much as I could. I could tell he was worried and felt pretty helpless. He just kept going to my mom, touching her hand or kissing her forehead and asking her if she was okay. Of course she wasn't; she was lying there in pain and I'd never seen her actually express being in pain before. Once she was actually in the hospital, he said he didn't think she was doing all that bad when she was at home...he didn't notice her being in any real pain. He always told relatives, friends, and doctors that she was getting along okay at home. I asked him, "Dad, she couldn't walk anymore! Don't you remember having to drag her out to the car almost every day to take her to some doctor or some test and every step she took hurt more than the last one?" He said he didn't remember.

He we was very confused and I'm sure worried, but I still really don't think he fully understood what was going on. I think the enormity of it just made his ability to think worse. I was amazed that he was able to stay with us that whole day without too much complaining. My dad is pretty much a hypochondriac and a big-time complainer. It's usually about his back, and he is also a very impatient person. But not much came out of his mouth in the regard while we were there.

Those 19 days when my mom was in the hospital, he tried to visit her almost every day. I did, but some days he just didn't feel up to driving. It seemed like every day she was gone he got worse...more anxious, more depressed, and more worried about driving by himself. Toward the end of her stay at the hospital, I drove him to see her several times, as did my aunt. But sometimes I just didn't want to go over there, pick him up, go back to the hospital which is about 5 minutes from where I live, then take him back home and go back to my apartment. Maybe I sound selfish and self-centered, but it really does take its toll on you...and your gas bill. And when he went to see her he usually went between just sitting there and not saying anything to asking her if she was okay over and over and smothering her...just hovering around her too much. I told him that she said she was okay and he needed to stop asking.

Once my mom was moved into the skilled nursing facility, however, things with my dad got MUCH worse. It seemed like his memory was deteriorating more and more EACH DAY. After a week or so he said he was too anxious to drive. His word for it was "paranoid," which is totally the wrong word for how he was feeling. He didn't think the CIA was after him or that someone was trying to kill him, he was just scared and worried and anxious and lonely. So I ended up taking him over to see my mom a lot more, even though the SNF was also only about 5 minutes from my apartment. I also started taking care of him more and more, buying his food, doing laundry and other chores, etc. He'd call me and tell me he needed more food when I'd just bought some for him the other day. I'd have to tell him and he'd go look and say he forgot he had it. I knew he was very lonely and he often said he missed her. He hadn't lived without her for YEARS, so he had no one constantly there to talk to or take care of him. He felt totally lost.

I really started to worry about him when his memory became noticeably worse. He started asking me the same questions over and over...when are we going to see my mom, will I drive him, asking about money, asking about his reverse mortgage. I mean asking if he HAD one and what is was and when/how was it set up, when he was involved with it the whole time. He didn't always understand it, but he was there. Suddenly though, recent events and then even events that happened minutes before starting escaping his memory.

The worst thing about his memory problems was that for about the past month or so, he's started calling me ALL DAY LONG, asking me the same questions. For some reason he was worried about his car insurance and registration being up-to-date. And where it was. Right there on the table where he left it. But he'd call me and ask me this over and over. Or where his driver's license was. It had expired. He had a temporary one, but it had expired. I took it home with me to see if I could call the DMV and find out why he never got his license, but they wouldn't talk to me the ONE time I finally got through. So then I got, "where is my temporary driver's license? Do you have it? Why can't I use it? Why don't I have my license?" All of this stuff, ALL DAY LONG. And sometimes he'd just call me to ask what day it is, or if we had seen my mom that day...sometimes we had and he didn't remember. And almost every time we went to see her, he'd ask her if she was walking around on her own yet. Obviously she was either in a wheelchair or in bed...if she were able to walk, she'd be home. We'd discussed that a lot as soon as she was able to walk, at least without any trouble using a walker, she could probably come home.

I finally decided that I needed to talk to his doctor. Apparently, he had called his doctor and told him about how depressed and anxious he was feeling, so his doctor put him on antidepressant and anti-anxiety meds. My dad is also diabetic and has high cholesterol and high blood pressure, so he takes lots of meds. I made an appointment to meet with his doctor alone. We talked about his memory and how of course it deteriorates with age, but what I told him he said was a lot worse than typical memory loss. He said that my dad called him once telling the doctor that he felt paranoid, and the doctor almost had him admitted to the Mental Health Facility. I told my dad not to throw that word around because it has a much different meaning than what he thought he was using to describe how he felt.

The doctor told me to schedule some labs and an MRI. He also went over my dad's meds with me, and it looked like he wasn't even taking about half of them anymore! The doctor gave me a list of the meds my dad was supposed to be taking so I could get him back on track. I went to his house and some of the meds were just sitting in a shoe box. Some had been filled during the summer. They were still okay to take, but he hadn't been taking them! So I had to do some detective work and find all the meds. I found all but one and had to call it in. It turned out he was only taking his antidepressant, anti-anxiety, and bipolar meds. He said the doctor told him to stop taking everything else. He was also supposed to be taking two meds for his blood sugar level, one for his cholesterol level, and one for his high blood pressure. So I bought him one of those pill organizer boxes and he seems to be doing well with it, except that sometimes he'll take the morning pills at night and vice-versa. And the doctor also said he should not be driving in his condition, so I now had to either take him places or bring things to him.

I made the appointments for his labs and MRI. I let my dad know about this, wrote down the appointments for him so he wouldn't forget. And then a new set of calls. "It says here that I have an appointment on (day). What is that for again? And it's at (time)? Are you taking me?" Over and over all day. I told him that if it was written there, he had the appointment and didn't have to verify it with me. I even wrote him a list of his most asked questions and the answers to them. I put it by the phone and told him to read it before he called me, and if the answer was already on the list, to not call me. But he didn't pay attention to the list. I'd refer him to it when he called, but he'd say he forgot. And he acted like it was okay that he forgot.

When his lab results came back, we went to see his doctor do discuss them. I told him the night before that he had the appointment, and I called him in the morning to remind him that I'd be over soon. When I got there, he had forgotten about the appointment and wasn't dressed to go. So we were going to be late. On the way over to the doctor's office, he kept asking me why we were going, I'd tell him why, he'd say he didn't remember getting the blood tests, and then the whole thing all over again. He asked me the same questions about 6 times on the way to the doctor's office, which is about 10 minutes from his house. Then, while sitting in the office waiting for the doctor to come in, he has me about 3 or 4 more times why we were there.

When the doctor came in, he said that his lab tests were pretty normal so there were no med changes to be made in that regard. His doctor asked more about his memory and I told him how it was...how he acted on the way over to the office, how was starting to average about 10-15 calls per day, usually about one or two of the same topics. His heater went out, and every day he'd call several times a day asking when it would be fixed. I had an appointment set up for him, wrote it down, but he'd still call me and ask what we were going to do about it, that he was cold, were we going to get it fixed, etc. And I also still got calls about going to the DMV.

The doctor tested his memory...he asked my dad what day it was and my dad couldn't answer that. He also couldn't answer what month it is or what year it is. He was able to answer what city he is in but not what county (not COUNTRY, COUNTY). He was able to spell "world" backwards, and able to subtract 7 from 100, but not 7 from 93 (I had to count on my hands myself!).

Last week I had a migraine and asked him not to call. He said okay but kept calling anyway. I finally had to turn off the ringer on two of the phones and disconnect the third one b/c I couldn't figure out how to turn off the ringer and the base. Later when I checked caller ID it showed that he had called about 40 times, and also about 16 times on my cell. I told him this later and he didn't believe me. He said there's now way he could have done that. I told him I have proof and he either laughs it off or says he's sorry, he won't do it again, or that's just how he is. He said he didn't remember calling so many times. That was the worst of it, because I was not answering due to my migraine and since I turned off the ringers, he'd just keep calling over and over...he is very impatient. He told me that I had him all shook up when I told him how much he'd been calling. I told him it wasn't the first time I had told him this or asked him to stop calling so much. But do you think he remembered? Each time he'd again say there's no way he called that much and I had him all shook up. He'd act anxious yet kind of as if he was wounded mentally.

So when he calls and I tell him how much he's already called or has him not to call, he says he'll try harder but then 10 minutes later he calls again. Or he'll call and ask me if he just called me. It has really been getting to Jeff and I. We'd sit down to dinner or to relax, and the phone would ring. It's gotten to the point where we just let the machine pick it up if his name shows up on the caller I.D. I'd answer once or twice, but his messages were always the same, "Jessica, it's your dad, please call me back." I wish he would have at least said WHY he was calling.

The other day I took him to the DMV for his license renewal. Like I said, he has been bugging me for WEEKS about his license...where is it, do I have his temporary one, do I have his registration and insurance (he had it on his table the whole time but continued to ask anyway)." So anyway, all the way down to the DMV he kept asking me where we were going and why, and saying that he didn't know anything about this. After nearly TWO WEEKS of CONSTANTLY bugging me about it. The woman at the DMV said he needs to see an eye doctor for an exam before they can send him his new license. He passed the written test in Dec., and I guess he didn't understand or realize that he had to see an eye doctor. So now, another challenge.

The next day I took him to get his MRI. He said he didn't know anything about this and didn't remember me telling him about it. It was on a note on the table for him and he called me several times asking me if he had this appointment. I told him it was right there on the note I left him, and he said he was just calling to verify. Verify WHAT? That the note was accurate?

Then early this week I scheduled an appointment for a repairman to come and look at the heater. First I called the local utility company to find out if he could diagnose the problem, because they do it for free. I had to be there from 8am to 12pm. My dad kept saying, "I wonder when we're going to get someone out here to fix he heater." I had to tell him, "DAD! That's why I'm here!" So the guy comes and gives a diagnosis, and I called a repairman. It turns out that the utility guy was wrong with the thought the problem was. Again, I was there for 12pm to 4pm waiting for the repair guy to come, and again I got, "We need to get the heater fixed soon." I'm sure you can figure out my answer to that one. The repairman said something like his blower mechanism was in backwards, but no one has worked on the heater for as long as I can remember, so that was weird. Then my dad kept asking the repairman over and over, "So it was put in backwards? How did that happen?" About 4 or 5 times. I was so embarrassed. There was also a lot of dirt up on the radiator part. What a mess! But it's all fixed now, no more calls about the heater, hopefully!

It's just SO HARD to remain calm, not yell or be stern, not get mad, to pretend that he just asked the question for the first time. I felt that I needed to tell him that he just called and asked the question five minutes ago. He'd say that he forgot and that it's just "what he does" and he'd apologize. It did no good to remind him that he'd just called about he same thing 5 minutes ago. After a while, I didn't tell him it was okay. He'd apologize and I just wouldn't say anything. I'd tell him it's NOT what he should be doing, and how much it was getting to Jeff and I; how we were thinking of doing things like disconnecting the phone. He'd laugh and I'd tell him sternly that it was NOT funny...it was serious, very frustrating for us, and he had to TRY to realize that he shouldn't call us so much. He'd sound like he felt bad and say he'd try not to call me anymore. I told him it's okay if it's an emergency or something he hasn't called about before. I know there was something in him that knew he was...many times he'd say, either in a message on the answering machine or when he talked to me, "Hi Jessica, it's your dad again" So he knows. Sometimes I think a part of it is stubbornness and selective memory.

His MRI came out okay. His doctor did give him some meds for his memory but if they work at all, they're not usually very effective and/or aren't effective for a very long period of time. But hopefully he'll respond to them at least enough to not drive us crazy. I really do feel sorry for him though; that he doesn't realize what he's doing, but in a way...well, ignorance is bliss. I feel badly for feeling angry with him and wishing that he'd just leave me alone or that I wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. It's hard not to feel that way but I know I have to be there for him whether I want to or not. That may sound cold, but if I truly didn't want to be there for him, I wouldn't. He may have not had a HUGE hand in raising me, but he was the one who worked so that we had food on the table, a roof over our heads, etc. And he spoiled me rotten just as much as my mom. I know he loves me and always has. He tells me every day that he does, that he doesn't know what he'd do without me, and thanks me for all I've been doing for him. I typically say, "That's what I'm here for. You took care of me and now it's time for me to take care of you." And I believe that. It's just not always the easiest thing to do, physically or mentally.

Oddly, the past three days he's only called two or three times each day. Maybe those meds are starting to kick in! I hope it stays this way. Wish us luck.