Sunday, April 6, 2014

August 18, 2013. The Next Day...


So the day after I found my dad in the middle of a giant mess with no utilities, I called in the family to help.  My uncle, one of my dad’s brothers, met my sister and I at my dad’s house the next morning.  At this point none of us knew what was wrong with him.  We didn’t know if we’d be welcome inside.  We didn’t know what he was capable of based on his past mood swings.  Would he actually open up and tell us what was going on?  Would he shut us out and get angry?

My uncle went in alone first.  He offered my dad some help getting the utilities turned back on.  And suggested he take him to the doctor – the VA, to see what kind of benefits he could be eligible for that would help him pay his bills.  My dad seemed agreeable to all of this.  A good sign.  Little did we know he would be agreeable to everything along the way.  But at this point we felt we were treading on thin ice.  We wanted him to let us help, but were worried he would get mad or embarrassed and not let us if we pushed too far.  My uncle soon noticed that anytime he would start to question my dad’s situation, he would shut down and start working on a crossword puzzle.  He’d start asking questions about what the answer to 2 down or 4 across were.  The severity of the situation wasn’t sinking in, and we weren’t going to get many answers.

My uncle came out and my sister and I went in with our cleaning supplies a few minutes later.  We pretended we didn’t know my uncle had been there, and we were just there to help clean up the mess that I had found the day before.  Sure enough my dad said that would be ok.  He was still wearing the same clothes as the day before (probably the same as the day before that and the day before that and the day before that, and so on).  He needed a shower bad.  But one step at a time…He just seemed so passive.  And nice.  It was so weird and sad. 

The smells were horrible due to the rotting food in the fridge (remember, no utilities!) and rotting garbage all around us.  We opened windows and tried to pretend it was natural and we weren’t trying to hold our breath or cover our faces in our shirts.  My sister wasn’t feeling well this day which made it extra tricky.  She had a rough time in that fridge throwing out the rotten food, trying to tough it out and power through.  It was so horrific we were almost laughing, and having to hide our faces some more.  It was so wrong, but sometimes when things are so bad, all you can do is laugh. 

As my sister cleaned out the rotting food (she may have gotten the short end of the stick here), I started tentatively bagging up his mail and random notes and papers that were lying around everywhere and sneaking it to my car.  He sat at his dining room table and worked on crossword puzzles, oblivious to what we were doing.   The more I realized he wasn’t going to get upset, the more furiously I bagged things and carted it outside.  I started piling up the garbage and mail lying all around the table he was working on, and shoving it into boxes and bags.  He didn’t seem to care at all or ask what I was doing with his stuff.  So we kept going, until all of it was bagged up and taken to my car.  Sometimes we would stop and read some of the stuff.  It was a little frightening how bizarre some of it was.  Strange reminder notes, random trivia, series of numbers covering an entire page, but we had to keep bagging and moving along.  We got the garbage thrown out, the fridge cleaned out, and my uncle was working to get the utilities back on the next day.  It was a good start.  But there was so much more to do.  And now so many bags of mail to sort through, with the hope that it would provide some clues as to what was going on.  We had no idea what we would uncover or  what diagnosis was in store for us.
 
Here was what you saw when you took one step through the door...
 
the piles continued into the bedroom...

and into the office...








 



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