Tonight's picture was taken in November of 2008. Mattie was in his fourth month of chemotherapy. That day we were in the outpatient clinic, by the art therapy table. Mattie's therapists printed out an image of a roach. Why? Well they knew that Mattie claimed to like roaches. Mainly because he knew they creeped me out. I do not think Mattie EVER saw a live roach. Any case, this print out served as a role model for the large roach he painted on a clinic ceiling tile with his therapists. Mattie just loved the whole project. That said, I am not sure other kids and families enjoyed seeing the roach on the ceiling as much as he did.
Quote of the day: To see a Woman you love in Distress; to be unable to relieve her, and at the same Time to reflect that you have brought her into this Situation, is, perhaps, a Curse of which no Imagination can represent the Horrors to those who have not felt it. ~ Henry Fielding
My dad had a physical therapy session today. It was another glorious weather day, so fortunately he could do his session outside. I cleared the driveway of fallen leaves to make this possible. At 11:45am, I had a meeting, and I prepared the therapist and my mom for the fact that I would be gone from the house for 90 minutes. I never leave my mom alone with my dad, but today was an exception.
When I returned home, I opened the garage door, and I was hit with a sickening smell before even getting in the house. Apparently my dad had an irritable bowel accident. My mom had no idea how to clean him, despite watching me for five years. What she did was she left the soiled depends on top of my washing machine. Not sealed in a bag, she did not think of throwing the soiled things outside in the garbage pail, or even out the door! I literally went from zero to 100 in about two seconds. I was absolutely livid as the house smelled like a crime scene. In addition, they were both sitting at the breakfast table in the kitchen, and my dad was slumped over the the chair, while she was playing around with her phone. My mom did not have the wherewithal to get my dad to his recliner, so for the 90 minutes that I was gone, he was sitting in a hard chair.
I dropped everything when I got home, opened windows, my sliding door, sprayed Lysol, and completely changed him, soaked his clothes in white vinegar, and thoroughly cleaned the bathroom. As I told my mom today, it is very clear that I can not leave the house when my dad is home, because she isn't responsible enough to monitor and care for him.
I have no life and no freedom. Which is a mixed blessing, because even if I had time... what would I do? My whole life, either died or walked out the door on me. It is very sobering. Today's episode however gave my mom first hand knowledge of what I contend with each and every day. As I face multiple bathroom incidents a day! I could describe it, but until you are faced with it, it is hard to do it justice.
No comments:
Post a Comment