A few years lapsed since my last post, and I had found myself in the same place with my father. The only difference is that the players around him are different.
Since his accident 2 years ago, I had become the power of attorney for his finances and started managing all the logistics of his life. I also got him approved for Medi-cal, which is the state-run insurance for low income residents, and set him up with a caregiver to come to his house for 8 yours a day, 5 days a week. On weekends, I would go to his house in the mornings to prepare his meals and give him his medications.
Occasionally, I would take him out to lunch, and sometimes dinner. But then something started happening. Slowly but surely, I noticed that he seemed more and more distant. He spoke less to me unless it was to yell at me (literally) about a bill he received. Other times, he would receive a bank statement and question where all his money was. If it was a bad day, he would accuse me of stealing all his money. He also claimed that his caregiver wanted his property. He used to also hide food in his bedroom because he claimed that his caregiver was stealing his food. This actually got so bad that an infestation of every bug alive showed up crawling through every crack in his house. Needless to say, my husband arranged for an exterminator to come out several times before the infestation was finally gone. I also arranged for a house cleaner to come out every few weeks to maintain the level of cleanliness it took to keep the bugs out. I can go on with an endless list of things of services that was required to keep this man’s house clean.
So Fred was his caregiver. He was a gentle, mid-aged Filipino man who was very jolly. He also had A LOT of patience for my dad. But during his first week taking care of my dad, he said he wanted to quit because he got seriously depressed. My dad has a unique way of having people feel that way around him. Over time, Fred learned to adjust to my dad and block out the nasty words and comments that would so easily fly out of my dad’s mouth towards Fred.
I had asked Fred to start hiding his mail if he could get to the mail before my dad did. Every time my dad would open up a bill, he would go ballistic and blame anyone he could think of, for stealing his money. So Fred and I had a system where he would take my dad’s mail home and send it to my house so my dad would never see it. This helped keep my dad’s irrational emotional status at bay. Fred stayed with my dad for well over a year. He was amazing to my father given the conditions he worked in with my dad.
Then came Eve. Eve is AMAZING as well. And she brought a gentle feminine energy into my father’s space. My father has his moments where he would love Fred and then hate Fred. But with Eve, he immediately embraced her. Of course things were no different with her either — he would have his moments where he would yell at her and throw nasty comments at her. And Eve would take it all in, nod her head and tell him in her own way that she was listening to him.
She said she never allowed him to upset her. Instead she played the part that he was describing to her in his anger. One time he claimed that he was the king. And Eve, who so generously danced in the conversation with him, said “Yes you are sir, you are the King! And I am here to serve you my King”. And my dad would immediately calm down.
Eve, as the last caregiver also did, managed my dad’s medications and his doctor appointments. She also managed his groceries and all other areas of his day to day living, and she also hid his mail and gave it to me when she saw me. Eve had been with my dad for 8 months.
Then the inevitable happened.
One typical Saturday almost 2 months ago, I drove to my dad’s place early in the morning to make him breakfast and administer his medications. He was upset. Every time I would go there, I knew he would either be happy or upset. And that morning, he was upset. I knew something was slightly off about him but given that his moods fluctuated so much, I didn’t give it much concern. I did what I typically did which was make him oatmeal for breakfast, and then prepare his lunch and dinner for later. Then I gave him his medications and told him to eat his oatmeal. He got angry with me about something. It had become very difficult for him to communicate. His words were always very few, but his anger was always very plenty. So I didn’t know why he was angry that morning, nor did I care. I also had my son and my husband at home waiting for me, and so without giving it more energy, I told my dad I was leaving. As always, he said nothing to me and walked away. So I left his house.
That afternoon, I get a call from the police department: “Hi, we have your father’s dog. Where can we drop it off?” My immediate reaction was: Not again. It’s one of those calls. I then learn that my father was walking his dog that afternoon when he got confused about 3 blocks from his house. Passers by stopped to help him and immediately saw his need for medical help so they called 911. A fire truck came, saw that my dad was confused and brought him to the hospital to get checked out. The cops came as well, and were left with his little 10 lb. terrier dog.
So here I am on the phone with the cops saying “I don’t know what to do with his dog”. I asked them to drop the dog off at the vet, but they said they couldn’t leave their county. They requested to leave the dog in my dad’s backyard, and I declined that request because there are holes in the yard, and she is very small and will likely escape. And my dad loves that dog and for as much stress as I had endured over my father, I still respected what he loves and cares for. So the cops asked for my permission to break into his house to put the dog back in, and I said YES PLEASE. DO THAT because I was NOT going to drive all the way to the police station to get that damned dog. About an hour later, the cop called me back and said he hopped the fence and found the back door unlocked. So he put her in the house. He also added that they left the leash on her because she started to bite the cop as he was entering the house. “Nice,” I thought to myself. That dog is just like my dad.
So now my dad is in the hospital. We later learn that my dad had a new diagnosis of diabetes, and pnemonia. So they treated both ailments. And now he is on long term insulin. And the pnemonia went away after weeks of medications.
I felt relieved that he was safe and that I didn’t have to take care of him because the hospital was going to. That evening, I asked Eve to keep him company at the hospital when she came back to work on Monday, instead of at his house. Little did I know that this day would mark the first day of a series of events that would lead me to question my sanity many times.
Adventures with my Elderly Father 