Tonight's picture was taken in December of 2008. Mattie entered the hospital that day through the outpatient clinic. He wasn't feeling well and was also running a high fever. He could hardly keep his head up. Which was why a pillow was sitting in his lap. Prior to this photo, Mattie's head was buried in the pillow. Mattie was visited by Santa and Mrs. Claus, who brought Mattie all his favorite toys (of course they had a little help from Mattie's child life specialist). Literally right after this photo, Mattie's head went back on the pillow. I am not sure how Mattie found the energy to manage this visit with a smile. I know if I were Mattie, Santa would have been directed to the door.
Quote of the day: When I was a boy, and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping. ~ Mister Rogers
I was prepared for this morning to be difficult. I knew it would be because my dad had not had a bowel movement since Thursday. This is what my life has come down to. I am sure this sounds ridiculous, but it is bordering on a national crisis in my household when my dad doesn't go. He can work himself up into a silly, and therefore, starts moaning, can be arched over in pain, and runs to the bathroom every 15 minutes. Before my dad went to bed last night, I gave him Ducolax and Senocot. I expected that to help. However, after I showered him, I could tell my dad was uncomfortable and shortly after the running to bathroom routine started. He has no rational understanding as to when he has to go to the bathroom, which makes the whole process mind numbing as his caregiver.
Before I even brought him downstairs, I inserted a Ducolax suppository, because I knew if I did not get on top of this issue, the next step would be the emergency room. This happened in Los Angeles in June of 2020, which is why I am very experienced on this issue with my dad. He has irritable bowel syndrome and now he ranges from having the diarrhea to constipation form of the disease. It is a special kind of torture on top of dealing with moderate stage dementia.
My dad managed through breakfast, but was miserable, and kept running to the bathroom. I finally reasoned with him and got him to walk around the first floor of the house. Movement is the best remedy. But I assure you, you can't concentrate, you can't focus or listen to anything else when he is in one of these states. It is like you can feel your blood pressure rise when in the midst of this bathroom crisis.
I had promised Peter that at 11am today, we were going to walk together with Sunny. Given how my morning was going, I did not know if this would be possible. But I was determined to stick to my plans. Thankfully within two hours of administering the suppository, I could tell it was beginning to work and therefore I told my mom that she had to watch my dad for 90 minutes while we went for a walk. I set her up with a chair between the hallway and bathroom, so she could oversee what my dad was doing while also watching TV.
I then escaped and had a lovely walk with Peter and Sunny. I find walking imperative to managing this stress and lack of freedom. Later today, we did take my parents out to eat. It is the only diversion they both can do and honestly my dad prefers eating out. At first I took offense to this, but I have moved passed this feeling. I have no idea why he loves eating out. I don't know if it is the control he has to choosing what he eats, or the social experience. But of course with all the laxatives on board, I had a major mess on my hands when he went to the restaurant's bathroom. I can't win and I am constantly juggling diarrhea or constipation. What I do know is the average person couldn't handle his personal hygiene needs and simply wouldn't do it.
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