It's been a month...
The 'rents have moved out...it is official...well, their bodies aren't here, most of their belongings are gone. Their mail is still coming here, baseball cards still around, and some other detritus.
Let's do the mail first. Dad wanted to wait until he officially changed his address with the Department of Motor Vehicles to change his address with the Post Office. Well, all right, not a big deal. I see him almost every day at Joe's Diner, and go over to the new place 3 or 4 times a week. He changed his address at the DMV, after asking everyone he met everywhere how to go about doing this. I had suggested he go online (he is paying a lot for internet access!!!) and look up how to do this, easily and quickly. That just wasn't enough. Dad went to the Bridgeport DMV, got the form, did the paper, and got the stickers. Then he spent the next week asking everyone he met everywhere about putting on the stickers...where do they go...uh huh. That was about 2 weeks ago. "Dad", I asked, "what about the Post Office? When are you going to do that? You already have the packet and the form." I asked him this, in these very same words, every day. "I wanna go there and bring it to them. I like to do these things personally." Every day, he told me this, in these very same words.
Today - I asked my question...Dad answered, adding he changed some of the addresses for his bills (a new line!).
On Monday, Dad was preparing for his colonoscopy. I know, but I have to tell it. He wasn't eating, was drinking the massive amounts (his words!) of horrible tasting gunk, and Mommy was "all over the place and won't listen to me. Would you come and take her to lunch? I need a break." OK, phrased like that? Of course...after my appointments, I said, I'd be there and take her to lunch. Dad was really pretty desperate - he even gave us money to pay! So, not one to waste such an opportunity, I got our eldest and suggested she meet me at their place and come with us to lunch...which worked out very well! Mom had a lovely quesadilla that she sort of ate (filling up on chips...), and then a nice piece of sopapilla with strawberry sauce. She could see into the bar, and kept mentioning who was on television. I didn't think anything of it at the time, believing who she said was on...however, those of you have have experience with the elders know that visions are precursors to urinary tract infections...more on that in a few.
We brought Mom home, settled her in, and asked Dad if he wanted some Jello ("Uck...I don't eat that"). The weather turned nasty that night. Dad is a snowphobe, and I thought he might chicken out of the procedure, but no way! He already drank all that stuff! Nasty weather meant Mom's program was cancelled so it wasn't just me and Dad anymore. Mom tagged along with us to the poopchute doctor.
Dad backseat drove the whole way there, as I was trying to manage the ice and snow...telling me which way I should have gone ("but you do what you want to do...you will anyway."). I got us there safely, and went in to the waiting area. This group has 2 offices in the same building. One, on the first floor, is where you go for the initial set up appointment. There is room for about 50 people, opulent chairs, 2 television screens. Then you speak with the doctor, and go into an inner waiting room with about 10 opulent chairs. On the second floor, where you go for the procedure, there are small chairs, and room for 10 people (yes, I counted!). The room is small, and everyone who goes for the procedure has to have a driver! Rarely are there empty seats, and usually people are standing!!! Something wrong with this picture! I have to go in January - going to tell the person who comes with to wait downstairs, and have the upstairs people call!
So here we are, the three of us...Mom asks about every 4 to 6 minutes "What are we here for?". I calmly answer her every time "Daddy is getting a colonoscopy...they're checking to see why he's full of shit." She nods knowingly and observes all the action in the room. Every once in a while, her eyes light on her brand new winter jacket (yes, I made them get her one! the old one is in my car, ready for a coat drive...anyone?). "That's my new coat. Is it safe there?" "Yes, Ma, it's fine". It never ceases to amaze me what comes up as remembered.
We got to the office at 10:15...we left at 12:50. I'm guessing I told Mom what was happening with Dad about 45 times. She occasionally asked more questions, but they were only occasional. Mom is starting to get a little hard of hearing ("What?") so I had to say this pretty loudly. Uh huh...everyone in the room figured it out pretty fast!
All went well, and after seeing and passing around Dad's photos of his colon, we went to get some lunch. Dad, of course, needed to tell all of his experiences...I'll save you those blow by blow descriptions, because I CAN'T bear to write them here. Imagine...add the picture to your imagination.
Dad is struggling a bit more with Mom...she had a little episode at the Program yesterday...after the visions of people on Monday, some of her comments on Tuesday, I suggested a urine test...so yes, Virginia, there is a UTI. Very glad, actually, to know that some of her can be fixed sometimes. One more thing to check on the list of what we do when we go check on them...cranberry juice? And her GP has said for her to drink whatever she will drink and ordered a liver function test.
Poor Dad...he still holds this hope that Mom will wake up and be who she was. That may be the only way he can do this.
Let's do the mail first. Dad wanted to wait until he officially changed his address with the Department of Motor Vehicles to change his address with the Post Office. Well, all right, not a big deal. I see him almost every day at Joe's Diner, and go over to the new place 3 or 4 times a week. He changed his address at the DMV, after asking everyone he met everywhere how to go about doing this. I had suggested he go online (he is paying a lot for internet access!!!) and look up how to do this, easily and quickly. That just wasn't enough. Dad went to the Bridgeport DMV, got the form, did the paper, and got the stickers. Then he spent the next week asking everyone he met everywhere about putting on the stickers...where do they go...uh huh. That was about 2 weeks ago. "Dad", I asked, "what about the Post Office? When are you going to do that? You already have the packet and the form." I asked him this, in these very same words, every day. "I wanna go there and bring it to them. I like to do these things personally." Every day, he told me this, in these very same words.
Today - I asked my question...Dad answered, adding he changed some of the addresses for his bills (a new line!).
On Monday, Dad was preparing for his colonoscopy. I know, but I have to tell it. He wasn't eating, was drinking the massive amounts (his words!) of horrible tasting gunk, and Mommy was "all over the place and won't listen to me. Would you come and take her to lunch? I need a break." OK, phrased like that? Of course...after my appointments, I said, I'd be there and take her to lunch. Dad was really pretty desperate - he even gave us money to pay! So, not one to waste such an opportunity, I got our eldest and suggested she meet me at their place and come with us to lunch...which worked out very well! Mom had a lovely quesadilla that she sort of ate (filling up on chips...), and then a nice piece of sopapilla with strawberry sauce. She could see into the bar, and kept mentioning who was on television. I didn't think anything of it at the time, believing who she said was on...however, those of you have have experience with the elders know that visions are precursors to urinary tract infections...more on that in a few.
We brought Mom home, settled her in, and asked Dad if he wanted some Jello ("Uck...I don't eat that"). The weather turned nasty that night. Dad is a snowphobe, and I thought he might chicken out of the procedure, but no way! He already drank all that stuff! Nasty weather meant Mom's program was cancelled so it wasn't just me and Dad anymore. Mom tagged along with us to the poopchute doctor.
Dad backseat drove the whole way there, as I was trying to manage the ice and snow...telling me which way I should have gone ("but you do what you want to do...you will anyway."). I got us there safely, and went in to the waiting area. This group has 2 offices in the same building. One, on the first floor, is where you go for the initial set up appointment. There is room for about 50 people, opulent chairs, 2 television screens. Then you speak with the doctor, and go into an inner waiting room with about 10 opulent chairs. On the second floor, where you go for the procedure, there are small chairs, and room for 10 people (yes, I counted!). The room is small, and everyone who goes for the procedure has to have a driver! Rarely are there empty seats, and usually people are standing!!! Something wrong with this picture! I have to go in January - going to tell the person who comes with to wait downstairs, and have the upstairs people call!
So here we are, the three of us...Mom asks about every 4 to 6 minutes "What are we here for?". I calmly answer her every time "Daddy is getting a colonoscopy...they're checking to see why he's full of shit." She nods knowingly and observes all the action in the room. Every once in a while, her eyes light on her brand new winter jacket (yes, I made them get her one! the old one is in my car, ready for a coat drive...anyone?). "That's my new coat. Is it safe there?" "Yes, Ma, it's fine". It never ceases to amaze me what comes up as remembered.
We got to the office at 10:15...we left at 12:50. I'm guessing I told Mom what was happening with Dad about 45 times. She occasionally asked more questions, but they were only occasional. Mom is starting to get a little hard of hearing ("What?") so I had to say this pretty loudly. Uh huh...everyone in the room figured it out pretty fast!
All went well, and after seeing and passing around Dad's photos of his colon, we went to get some lunch. Dad, of course, needed to tell all of his experiences...I'll save you those blow by blow descriptions, because I CAN'T bear to write them here. Imagine...add the picture to your imagination.
Dad is struggling a bit more with Mom...she had a little episode at the Program yesterday...after the visions of people on Monday, some of her comments on Tuesday, I suggested a urine test...so yes, Virginia, there is a UTI. Very glad, actually, to know that some of her can be fixed sometimes. One more thing to check on the list of what we do when we go check on them...cranberry juice? And her GP has said for her to drink whatever she will drink and ordered a liver function test.
Poor Dad...he still holds this hope that Mom will wake up and be who she was. That may be the only way he can do this.
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