Saturday, January 23, 2010

Life in the SLOW lane

It was not as bad as I thought it would be - visiting my parents for four days. They are OLD and with mom's suspect driving and Dad's Parkinson's, I thought I'd better check in on them.

Mom's driving checked out O.K. She has strategies to cross roads only at lights and secret back ways through parking lots or service roads she likes to use to avoid the main, four lane drag. I can't blame her - New Bern, N.C. is not an easy place to drive.

Though when I told Doug she drove he said I was taking my life into my hands. I did drive after talking to him, but I had to see how she drove for myself. Dad thought she could drive for another year or two, but how he knows this I am not sure, as he is basically house-bound.

As his body gives way - his mind remains fairly sharp. He's practically helpless but can walk, albeit slowly, and he can still eat by himself. As I said to my Mom, "He hasn't lost his appetite." But he's going to need some serious help soon. When I went out for a walk one day, I returned to a poop emergency. He pooped in his pants going down the hall to the bathroom. My mother told him that when he feels the slightest inkling, he needs to head for the toilet. "I could sit on the toilet half the day," he explained. She thought that's what he should do then. Doug wondered about diapers and I'll have to suggest that to my mother. She gets so fed up cleaning up his poopy PJs she just chucks them out and I can't blame her. I remember throwing out quite a few pair of undies when the boys where potty training.

So my Dad needs lots of help. He is totally dependent on her - even to help him up off the couch which requires quite a bit of strength. He explained the method to me "Don't let go until I let go, because even though I am on my feet, I am not that stable."

As he turns more helpless and childlike, a transformation is taking place - he's becoming sweeter, less argumentative, at least to me. And childlike is the best parallel - he needs help w/ his shoes. His nose drips. I cut his finger and toe nails. I help him on with his shirt. But I wasn't prepared to help him get dressed after the poop incident and subsequent shower even though it was difficult for my mom. No, I wasn't ready to see his privates.

His sense of humor is still intact - I don't remember him laughing so much. He took great delight in recounting text from a humorous author who wrote - "Shut up," he explained. I can't remember the author's name. . .He was also caught red handed bent awkwardly under a table looking for his doughnut crumb - at the risk of great injury.

His appearance was a bit funny when I arrived and Dad bore an uncanny resemblance to Ben Frankin - bald on top with long locks. I gave him a hair cut with the kitchen scissors because that's all they had.

The appearance of the house was another matter. There are piles and piles of papers everywhere. It's like my mother has turned into a hoarder. I cleaned out eight huge trash bags and a mountain of cardboard but didn't go near the piles of paper. Next trip. And there are boxes in most rooms that never got unpacked from when they moved to N.C. four years ago. . .

My first day there I went to the grocery store with Mom and was surprised to see that she rides the electric cart. "It's alot faster," she explained. "Follow me." And off she roared. I have a hilarious picture of her on the cart and will try to figure out how to get it off my phone. "Anybody behind me?" as she proceeded to back up. The personnel in the store all seem to know her by name and are all very helpful and polite.

At Curves I met Penny who works there and the regulars who 'work out.' Work out is one loose term but they seem to have a real camaraderie up there. As Penny explained the machines to me, my mother began her circuit. Penny's instructions included things like "Kiss my butt" and “Vanilla ice cream, chocolate ice cream." She instructed me carefully and I think she was worried I might hurt myself. She also explained that my mother doesn't do the machines the correct way, so don't follow her - but it was all O.K.

As one of the caregivers from Seniors Staying At Home said of my mom, "She doesn't think she needs help, but she does." A sign on the oven says "Turn off when done cooking" in my Mom's handwriting. At the department store called Belk, she emerged from the ladies room with a trail of toilet paper. At Harris Tweeter (groceries), it was the paper toilet seat cover. I did find the oven on (with nothing cooking), water running, and watched her drive in the middle of the road in her development - though no cars were coming, it had me concerned.

I had a pleasant visit with long sleeps, long walks, and time catching up with my parents amidst my chores of cleanup and assistance. Life moves very slow down there . . . . forget a To Do list.

As I left my Dad asked, "Do you need any money?" and Mom asked me outside "Do you have enough money?"

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