Recent Happenings...

So last week I was served papers from the county court on behalf of my dad.  He's being sued for his credit card debt.  I really hoped we could ignore that part of his debt.  From what I've been told it's unsecured debt, so they can't go after your assets.  And as far as his credit, well it's shot anyway. So what difference does it make.  But now we've got to deal with the mess and the legal fees.  It's maddening because I'm not even sure it's his debt.  We believe the woman taking advantage of him had access to his credit cards, and maybe even had one of his extra cards on her to make purchases whenever she pleased.  I know for a fact when I went through a few of the statements, there were vacations charged that he never went on.  And if he is at fault, his brain could not comprehend what he was doing, and we caught on too late.  It's just not fair for him, or us, to have to go through this now.

I've also started looking into his family history a little bit recently.  My dad's side of the family is a big mystery - including their medical history.  I'm not sure what we will uncover, but I'm hoping to find no one else with the FTD gene, which will help me believe that maybe his case is sporadic.  But there's just a lot of weirdness on that side of the family, so it will be hard to overlook.  In the meantime, it is fascinating piecing things together and finding contacts that are right around the corner.

We went to see dad this weekend and he was very excited to see us.  We buzzed the door to be let in and he saw us, so he came by the window and started grinning.  Then he started giving a big floppy wave with a silly face to my kids.  It's so heart warming, because when he was healthy - or maybe when the disease first started but was in a different phase (it's hard to tell the difference), he never would have acknowledged them or been openly silly like that.

We ate McDonald's in the car on the way, so we brought him a milkshake.  A change in his routine.  He kept commenting how good it looked and how he couldn't wait to drink it.  But when we finally got him signed out and over to the area where he shoots pool, he was consumed in his routine.  Getting his coffee on the way, and then getting another cup as soon as he gets to the pool hall.  We kept reminding him his shake was going to melt.  It started to cross our minds that maybe he didn't know how to work the straw.  But he finally got to it, after several cups of coffee and his can of pop!

I tried to ask a little about his past and his dad's side of the family, to see if he remembers any Aunts or Uncles names.  You would think this would be silly, asking a dementia patient to remember the past.  But his memory is actually very good.  I'm often amazed by the stories he'll sometimes share about when he was a kid.  The long term memory seems unfazed.  So I tried to tread carefully when approaching the subject.  I don't know if he's blocked it out, or if it's so ingrained in him that he not talk about his dad because his mom wanted nothing to do with him after he left.  It sounds like he was a pretty horrible person.  So I hated to even bring it up.  But he said he doesn't remember anything or any names.  And that maybe if he thought about it some more he'd remember.  He also said his dad was pretty mysterious.  That's putting it lightly.  So I probably won't bring it up again.  I don't want to risk upsetting him.

I do like seeing him interact with his grand kids.  He's usually so antsy about his routine, I was amazed when he let my son clear the pool table all by himself by shooting the balls in in the most unconventional way.  He even found it humorous.  I also told him about a book my son was reading about a monster under the bed.  My son told me about a part where the monster comes out at night and lays down next to you on your pillow and practices opening his mouth wide enough to see if it would fit around your head.  So I shared this tidbit with him and he found it hilarious.  It's nice to see he still has a sense of humor.  He said that sounded like one of the books we read when we were little.  I'm thinking he meant the Sesame Street/Grover book about the monster at the end of the book.  It amazes me to hear comments like that because he seemed so...not present when we were growing up.  It's nice to see he remembers stuff like that.

On the way back to his room we stopped outside for another cigarette and took pictures by the peacocks, we visited the birds inside and then signed him back in.  On our way back to meet him in his room to say good bye, we overheard a nurse talking to another nurse about "Rich". I don't think she realized who we were.  She said "Rich came out of his room at 1:00 in the morning last night and said "Good Morning! to me...I told him Rich, it's still the middle of the night.  It's not time to get up yet.  So he said "Oh, well then Hello!"  I love capturing little moments like that.  Glad to see the humor is still there and that he gets along with the staff so well.  They really seem to adore him.

Ready to go

Dad is still by far one of the youngest, if not THE youngest in his unit at the VA.  And as we suspected, his roommate, the oldest resident, passed away a few days after our last visit. We wondered how this would affect dad and turns out, he seems relatively unfazed by the whole ordeal.  He said that some family had visited the roommate and when he died, an American flag was draped over him. We think dad probably sat there working on his crosswords the entire time.  We are a little bit relieved that he doesn't get shaken up by any of this. FTD makes sure of that, at least for now.

Just this past weekend, we paid another visit and dad casually told us that another resident died.  It was one of his smoking buddies who was bound to a wheelchair.  His name was Jerry.  Dad often liked to push Jerry around in the wheelchair as if he was "helping" and it seemed like Jerry didn't mind.  It was heartbreaking when dad would want to take Jerry with us to shoot pool or leave the unit and it's just not allowed. He'd always say, "C'mon, Jerry. Ready to go?" as he'd start to push the wheelchair. 

Well, Jerry was ready to go.  Sad because he was one of dad's buddies, and one of the "younger" ones at 67. We don't know why his care required him to be in lockdown and we may never know.  All dad knows is that "he's buried right outside in the cemetery."  And that was that. 

In some ways, FTD provides a sad blessing.  It's best we don't get to see dad mourn because the disease make him incapable of doing so.  But we end up doing a lot of the mourning for him. 

So long, Dorman.  And now, Jerry.