Monday, March 12, 2007

119 "you dropped it"

I haven't written much lately. I've been busy working on several books.
My dad's been peeing in the hallway at night on a regular basis. My mom tries to wake up when he does so she can steer him into the bathroom but she doesn't always wake up in time. She tried a nightlight but he just turns it off. ("You left the light on.")
Friday we went to eat. A passing waitress dropped a scrap of paper on the floor by our table. My dad flipped out. He's yelling, trying to get her attention. My mother and I kept saying "Don't worry about it." But he sat there and stared at that scrap of paper, almost trembling, like a dog who sees a rabbit and is on a tight leash. Finally he told our waitress about it (over our protests) and she scooped it up. This is what he's like. Tiny things he has to make a big deal of, and major things...well you just don't want to witness them. There's probably one going on right now as I write this, because today he starts the real drug for the Alzheimer's study. A full day in the hospital.
A couple of weeks ago I was over there and he couldn't find something. He couldn't articulate what it was that he lost either. ("You write on it.") He was in the living room, swearing and slamming things around, then he started punching the doorway and yelling at us. My mom and I were just sitting there saying "we don't know what you're looking for, how can we help?" He got really violent. I didn't like it at all. We told him to calm down but he wouldn't. Finally he found what he was looking for (stickers) and some of them were missing from the package and he went on another rampage even as my mom explained that HE had used the missing stickers to label something.
They are supposed to be upping his dosage of the anti-depressant/anti-anxiety drug to help with this.
My mom's friend from the support group lost her husband. He had been in a home since last summer and recently started having seizures. I had suggested to my mother a few months ago that he wasn't going to live long and she didn't believe me, because he's only had AD about 6 years (he started early--like my dad. I think this man was around 70 when he died). But my mom said some of the people from the support group called and told her he had died. Not sure what happened. I know he had some problems eating too.
My dad's farting is worse than ever. When my parents went to get their taxes done he was blowing big loud farts in the accountant's office. My mom was mortified. He doesn't even try to hold them in and pretends he didn't do anything even though he often leans over to let them out. It's really disgusting and I'm embarrassed when he does it at restaurants (always when he gets out of the booth) or when we have people over for holidays. They stink too. Being in the car with him can be like a punishment. It's 20 degrees out and you've got the window open so you can breathe fresh air.

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