Nothing good to report. It was a rough day, and my hair kicked in and helped by looking really bad, too. Really, really, really bad. Curly, haphazard mess. And one's hair can be a weather vane for one's mood, to say the least.
Spent three hours getting routine lab tests that I had put off for months, then five hours touring assisted living studio apartments and visiting my Dad. Some hopeful moments, but many grouchy, sad, lonely, self-defeating and anxious ones.
Cape Fear
If you want to get scared of the future, eat a meal in a rehab facility that houses elderly residents in wheelchairs, on their last legs, or both. Sip your water, eat your rice while trying to avoid their empty gazes. Attempt to connect kindly when someone flashes a come-on-smile-back-at-me-I-was-once-young-like-you look. Quietly observe while a couple of people half-heartedly wave their forks in tune to the Bob Marley song, as much to rouse themselves as others. Pretend that the frosty, watered-down drink the waiter plops a cherry in and calls a piña colada--for a special island theme night--is delicious. Exchange winks and positive hellos with the other visitors--the sister, the husband, the wife, the friend--to egg each other on. Misery loves company. We're all in this together, and isn't it tough to bear? But what other choice do we have? At least we're here...I see you, you see me. Job well done.
While there, try to make a difference for your Dad--bring up happy memories, about the corned beef and cabbage he used to make for St. Patrick's Day, or doesn't the lady at the next table look like his old friend? Take him out for air, borrow a walker so he can get up and walk--but know deep down that you could sign your whole life over and it would not change the course of his. Leave feeling weighed down with trunks you can't lift, let alone open.
This is dark, I know.
Only remedy: Put on PJs and early 1960s movie. Watch, then go to bed.
New start tomorrow. Can't change others, can change me.
Do my best.
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I know. I experience the same thing when I go over to my mom's senior living facility. But I'm always so happy to run into the "spunky" ones, the ones that hang out in the mailroom or group living room area, chatting and joking. That's the way I hope we will be, Alice!
ReplyDeleteLove, Linda
Good morning, Linda. Thank you for the encouraging comment. I really appreciate your optimism and good cheer....I think my Dad just isn't himself, because he's anxious about whether he's going back to a new place he can afford or not, etc.....but he gets grouchy and it is really hard to take for a long spell. I had the car yesterday and wanted to spend some time with him. They have a little spot with real birds [6 fat tiny finches] and he has always loved animals, birds, nature. So we sat and looked at those for a while, and he enjoyed it. I think Sis is right, every day he is at this place is not good for him. We have to get him "home" to his own surroundings. love alice xoxoxoxo
ReplyDeleteWhen will he be discharged?
ReplyDeleteHi Linda. That's what we're trying to figure out. We have to know where he is going first, so sis and i are doing a lot of legwork. we don't think he can go back to where he was. He might go into a place by July 1 but we do not know. it feels overwhelming. thanks for caring :) he was on the independent living side, now we think he has to go into assisted living, where he would get more care and attention. love al
ReplyDeleteThis is one of the hardest things you'll ever have to deal with, and my heart goes out to you and your sister. You are so wise to know how much you can do, and what you can't do... finding that balance is the only tie back to sanity.
ReplyDeleteNan, thanks so much for your kind support, as always. I hope we can meet some day!!! alice
ReplyDelete