July 19, 2010

Cone Flower (echinacia purpurea) taken in my garden yesterday

Yesterday was a tough visit with my Dad. Sandra, Amber, Nathaniel and I went to see him in the mid afternoon. We found him in his room. We tried to take him outside to sit near the pond and watch the ducks. The weather was very beautiful, 80°F's with bright blue Maine skies. He could not understand what we were talking about. As we settled down instead in the TV area I asked how he was, was anything new happening, he didn't respond. He has been hard of hearing for years but I realized today he wasn't hearing anything. Finally, when I yelled he acknowledged me.

Alzheimer's Disease is truly tragic. When I first started this blog my intention was to share my experience with others. I am finding it to be a very sad subject to write about. When I think back about my Dad's life I don't see it like this at all, yet this is his life now. A large part of him that I knew so well is now gone. It will never return. The neuron tangle in his brain will never untangle. The shrinkage of his brain will only shrink more.

Eventually he agreed to go outside and we did sit near the pond. My Dad could not stand up by himself. He required our help and when he got on his feet he was unstable. It was doubtful he could remain standing. But he did ambulate himself, precariously.

And we did manage to get him outside, through the doors and onto seats near the pond. The ducks accosted us and then returned to their somber summertime existence. There isn't much conversation to be had with an Alzheimer's patient so far advanced so Sandra and I chatted with each other and my Dad occasionally contributing, "what, hah?"

I will be changing the title of this blog as soon as I can think of something. "Alzheimer's Disease and observations of a Son" is getting old.

July 8, 2010

The heat of summer has arrived in York, Maine. We have had lots of 90°F weather and not much rain. A customer called from Boston on Tuesday and declared it was 106°F sitting in traffic. Ouch!

My sister called yesterday and told me my Father had fallen out of his bed early in the morning and then fallen while walking around 10 am. He seemed to have no bruises. The staff at Sentry Hill had placed him in a recliner for the day.

I went over to see him around 4pm. And sure enough he was still in the recliner. He was awake and as usual in pretty good spirits. I brought him 2 milk chocolate caramels from our chocolate shop, Divine Chocolate. He ate them with a fervor. It was nice to see him enjoy them. He asked me if I had been over to see Evelyn's grave (his oldest sister). I told him no, but last memorial day he and I and my kids went over to rake and clean up the graveyard. He couldn't remember.

I sat with him quietly as we watched the staff prepare the residents for supper. Most of the residents require assistance to get seated so there is a lot of effort made. The whole endeavor begins around 4pm and lasts until 5pm. Moments before 5 I said goodbye and headed home.