On good days and under my close supervision, Daddio was still able to cut fabric squares. Today he's being transferred to a nursing facility and they tell me his dementia is so advanced he won't be coming home-ever.
Three weeks ago, he went to see American Sniper and today he's in a diaper talking to the walls. They say it's dementia but I don't believe it. It all came on too suddenly right after they gave him some Ativan to calm him down for a MRI. I've seen him do this with medication before but the hospital's not buying it. They want him out since they can't find a medical reason for him to be there other than he is bat shit (sorry) crazy. He was working on his vast collection of Christmas material just this past Monday so when I finish up his log cabin strips we would have a border. The man was using a rotary cutter and a ruler. Just 24 hours later he was so delirious he was ripping off his clothes and having to be restrained in a chair.
While he was working on cutting the squares, I was putting together yet another very random Disappearing Nine Patch for his second oldest great grandson. Now I am faced with giving the state the house and all his other assets so I can pay the enormous medical bills he is going to rack up ending his life in a nursing home. Daddio is only 85. He could be there for
years.
He's going to be major pissed off if he wakes up in a few weeks and finds out his house and all his money are gone because the hospital gave him some bad drugs. I know I will be. The material is the
Yosemite Park collection in flannel from Connecting Threads, btw. He really liked working with flannel.
I will admit there has been a decline lately. Quilting was no longer his main creative outlet. He was more into those fuzzy velvet coloring posters these past few weeks and had even talked about wanting to go back in a nursing home. I practiced my Zendoodling while we shared a cup of tea and a little conversation every afternoon. Everything was becoming harder for him. I could see the changes and it was making me sad. Right now I have no idea if I should keep fighting the fight or let him go. Damn. Being the parent of a parent is hard.
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This is so hard. I'm sorry it is going like this. There are no easy answers now. Sending a hug. This just stinks.
ReplyDeleteI so sorry to read this. I wish I could offer some wise words, but I can only imagine what you're going through. All I can offer is a virtual hug. I hope it helps, just a little.
ReplyDeletePrayers for you honey. So difficult. He' is just location confused. Elderly get really really confused when hospitalized. In a few weeks he'll be cutting fabric or coloring again. You know him. You are right
ReplyDeleteThis makes me so angry at the medical system. I want so much to take away those medications.
ReplyDeleteBreaks my heart to have you in this terrible situation. I know I have been in the exact same one. Make them get his medications down to bare bones. NO psych drugs or sleeping agents. Get this out of system and see what happens from there.
I too have been affected by chemicals in drugs. After the first C-section I told the Anesthesiologist to not give me the same stuff I had with the first daughter. He poo-poo'ed my request. So I was just as sick with the 2nd as I was with the first. I had a bad reaction to anesthesia with Gall Bladder surgery that sent me into panic attacks. Now I very loudly and stridently tell the Drs what I want. I do not want to go through those experiences again. Due to my height and weight they think they have to give me a prescribed dose. But my body just doesn't process drugs in a normal fashion, so I need to have them back it off. My Dad also had a similar experience with meds. He was delirious and seeing things. It's so scary what they put into meds nowadays that I just don't think I can trust vaccines, meds or chemicals anymore. Prayers for guidance.
ReplyDeleteDamn girl, this is just so heartbreaking to read. I am familiar with this situation with my own father during some chronic health issues we were trying to understand services were very dismissive of us, despite the fact we knew him and he knew his previous experiences and bouts of pain. First and foremost I hope he recovers quickly. Secondly I hope these people listen to you and help you help him. Lastly, I really hope that the quality of life with the resources you have can be maintained long and lasting. I wish you all very well.
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