beadslut (beadslut) wrote,
beadslut
beadslut

Update 15

On Monday we loaded dad into the back of the neighbor's conversion van, by the simple method of raising the gurney and sliding him in on a backboard. Then there was the nine hour drive back. It would only have been seven, but we had to stop and shift dad so he wouldn't get sores or stay too long in one position. Dad weighs 175. Biological needs also had to be addressed. Himself, not having spent time in the hospital was a great help, and actually took direction well. He was a champ, driving down one day, and back the next. He was awake most of the trip, drifiting in and out. We talked a lot, about something and about nothing.

Arrived at the nursing home. They were expecting us, but were woefully unprepared to gert him out of the van. Working with the laws of physics and a thankfully strong guy, we were able to slide him to the bumper and swing him into a wheelchair. Once inside, the aide looked at him and asked "Would you like a shower?" It was like the sun rose. Dad has always been fastidious about his personal hygeine. The diaper and bedpan routine contributed heavily to his depression. The staff did an evaluation, and he turned on the charm. We checked him in, they bathed, shaved and dressed him, and put him to bed.

We went home, drained. Leaving him was the hardest thing yet.

Since then, I've been there every evening after work. Dad wants to go home, hates the food, wants to go to the bank, to see a lawyer and put his affairs in order. He wants me to bring him a gallon of milk, and asks why his friends haven't come to see him. He knows I'm back at the office, but thinks he's in his apartment. He asks me to get milk and bread, wants me to check that the toilet isn't running. He wants to get up, but he knows he can't stand. He says we need to hire someone to take care of him. He tells me I should go home, because Himself is waiting for me halfway, in the Dells. That a seven hour drive every day is too much. I tell him he's in Minnesota, and he asks how I'm going to get home. This sucks beyond the telling. Nothing is in my control but being sure, absolutely certain, that he is getting the best care I can get him.
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