No, Not That Stable After All

I don't know... that didn't exactly fit my definition of "stable."  I walked in and the first thing I got was a two-hour, high-energy free association riff based loosely on the SNY telecast of a minor league baseball game between the Buffalo Bisons and the Lehigh Valley Ironpigs.  Which, granted, sounds a little bit surreal to begin with, but the conversation was moreso and unfolded along these lines:

"So, [camera focuses on pitcher Nelson Figueroa], those figueroas, they're all out there, and [camera shows the number 27 on a player's back] there are those two sevens and [camera cuts back to Figueroa, number 43] four threes, and [longshot] they're all running, but they're not running like they used to, it's all kids, and [beer commercial] they've got a bunch of girls, and it's like they're doctors, they're only in it for the money, and [Verizon FiOS commercial with actor who looks like I did 25 years ago before I had a beard] there you are over there, but it's all different, it's not making sense..."

This was peppered with more than the usual cargo of nonsense words:

Him: "And what about your french go college, how are you liking that?"

Me: [alert and in free-fall and trying to grab at possible meanings] "Oh, it seems to be going pretty well.  What do you think about it?"

Granted, there were a couple of moments of real personality and self-awareness and even wit.  Before dinner he pointed to E and said "You're going to be there."  Then he pointed to me and said, "And you're going to be there."  Then: "And me, if I'm still around I'll be there."  Good enough.  But on the other hand there was the obsessive pulling at his finger joints (haven't seen that in months) and a failed search for his wristwatch (he was wearing it but missed it by a foot and kept groping for it above his elbow) and the long runs where he vocalized about unfiltered, uncensored visual input.  There were auditory problems, too - he'd make a comment, then instantly say "Huh?" as though you'd said something, but there hadn't been time to get even a sound out.  And there were several distressed comments about how it doesn't make sense, it's just not making sense anymore...

I asked E when the last time was that he'd had a Tylenol 3 and she said Sunday.  I guess it's possible that there'd be some still running around in his system four days later, but I don't think so.  My take - sorry, M - is that he's taken another cognitive hit.  Not as big as last year's, and not so dramatic that you'd notice it if you didn't know him really well.  But he's definitely off.

On my side, there's a new level of fatigue, and maybe the approach to a breaking point.  I'm not sure why - maybe because he's suddenly worse, maybe because I've been doing these weekly runs for a year and a half and it's getting to be too much.  In any case, I suddenly thought - no, felt - that I've got to end this, it just can't continue this way.  Which probably means that I'm ready to move him now. Things seem hard - things are hard - until you're ready for them, then they get easy.  It doesn't seem right to leave him alone (not physically alone but you know what I mean) in his apartment in a state like this, talking about how he misses me and there's not enough company around (he did that too), and not recognizing E from one minute to the next.

I'm on the train home now and tomorrow morning I'll take out my nursing home list and start making calls.  It's clearly time.

Comments

[Dick Falk]

Alan, I understand your dilemma. My father was living in an assisted living facility in Las Vegas and I was continually driving there from LA whenever he wasn't feeling well, couldn't sleep or had to go to the hospital. Like you, I had to make a decision on moving him closer to me (to yet another assisted living facility), which I finally did. Thankfully, he was completely open to the move, "whatever I wanted to do." The move was a win-win situation; it made my life much less hectic and it led to improved care for my father.

I hope you're able to find a nursing home which will improve the quality of life for both you and your father (actually, to me he'll always be "Bud").

Dick

[julie]

Alan, it's been a few days and no up date on your dad. Hope all is okay and you are just dealing with day to day realities. Carry on, soldier.

[Alan G. Ampolsk]

Thanks to everybody and sorry about the slow replies - I'm mostly dug out now and will try to be more current.

Dick, I'll be in touch shortly about building up some of the early history - would like to do that to offset what's going on now, at least a little.