Phrasing is Everything (Also Another Health Update)

The stent procedure went well and the change in my dad  has been nothing short of amazing.  He is eating 5 or 6 times a day sometimes and more active than I have seen him in a long time.  Today he had his first dose of rituxan, which had to be done in a hospital in case he had a reaction.  Everything went fine, but I wanted to make a note about a realization I had.

My dad is a classic example of the stoic males of his generation.  He often complains about pain, but when I ask if he wants a pain pill, he usually says something along the lines of, "No, it isn't that bad." So when the nurse at the hospital asked about putting some pain meds in his IV just in case he experienced discomfort, I started to ask if he wanted it, but realizing it was fairly standard, instead I said, "Would you be OK with the nurse giving you some medicine for pain?"  He tends to be an easy going guy and especially compliant with health professionals, so it was no problem.

Must remember this at home when I think he should take a pain pill or do other things in general he is likely to say no to!

The Dreaded MMSE

As part of the comprehensive care that was recommended to me by people familiar with geriatric concerns and dementia, it was suggested my dad see a neurologist.  I was really dreading the MMSE portion of the visit, but wow, it was eye opening.  :(  I know how much my dad is struggling, but he has "work arounds" at home - his calendar, his newspaper, just being in a familiar surrounding. When outside that, things are not so easy.  Some examples...

What day, year, season is it?  He had no clue

Did you take the stairs or elevator here?  No clue

What floor are we on?  Very next question by the way, and the last one sort of implied we weren't on the first floor.  My dad's answer:  I dunno, first?

He asked for a simple series of steps, something like, take this piece of paper with your right hand, fold it in half, hand it back with your right hand.  Not even close.

Can you write a sentence?  My dad signed his name.  :(

The most interesting one was when the doctor asked him to spell "world".  He did that just fine, but then he asked for him to spell it backwards.  He looked totally stumped but tried, and came up with "drw".  Makes me wonder what it is about that task that makes it difficult.  He has enough short term memory to remember what word he is working on, but maybe can't keep a picture of it in his head at the same time?

So you get the picture.  Considered pretty far along dementia by the doctor.  Not a surprise to me, but still sad.  This is not an easy journey.

The Unthinkable has Happened

I have been through all sorts of agonizing mental gymnastics trying to decide what would be the best situation for both my dad and the rest of my family.  We came to the conclusion that would mean moving him to Oregon, but I couldn't bring myself to just tell my dad that is what is going to happen, knowing how much it would upset him.  It seemed better to let him get used to living with us, get a handle on his health issues and see where things would lead.

He asks quite frequently where my husband is.  Sometimes he is traveling for work.  Sometimes he is in OR.  This situation seems to upset him, and he will make comments like, "You should be with your husband."  Sometimes this has led him to say things like, "Just put me in a home."  And I will answer, "Dad, I wouldn't do that when you could live with us.  Wouldn't you rather be with us in OR than in a home here?"  And he actually says yes!  But then, something even more astounding happened.  The other day he said, "Maybe we should all go to Oregon."  Cue me with my mouth dropped.  I know he won't remember saying it later in the day, and I know he would fight it tooth and nail when it happens, but he said it.  He said it, at least once.  So there it is.

Where's My Steak?

My dad has always been a beef eater.   He dislikes fish and is bleh about chicken. I always thought it was just personal preference. Until last night.  My dad has also always been a huge softy.  And just when I think I have heard all the stories from the past he is likely to bring up, something new will pop up.  Out of the blue at dinner last night he started talking about how much chicken they ate when he was growing up.  He said they kept their own birds and it was his dad's job to go out and ring their necks.  He showed me how he would do it, by swinging them around, and told me how upset he used to be when they would run around with no heads.  The next thing I knew, he was crying over those poor chickens and telling my that is why he has always preferred beef.  I used to think he was being crotchety when he said, "Where's my steak?!"  Now it just reminds me of what a gentle soul he has always been, even though he tried to act like a tough guy.