Dad update Day 1
The drive here was very strangely clear of traffic, and if there was traffic, the cars stayed at a great distance from me.
It was as if, God was keeping them far away.
There was many moments, I felt touched by The Lord and my eyes filled with tears.
Made it here without any trouble.
When I arrived to dad's, mom looked tired, and irritated but she did open the door for me to enter.
Dad seemed relieved to see me.
Dad sits in a computer chair. The chair gives dad, a tightening pain in both his legs. I can see why, because of water retention and blood unable to circulate back up. Rubbing seems to help.
He often slouches forward in his chair. I asked him why, he says that he gets tired sitting and slouching forwards seems to ease the stress.
His upper body twitches, more so around the right shoulders, chest and rib region. Mom made him a late lunch, 3pm, and he didn't eat very much. It was a plate of Jasmine rice, and chicken with bamboo. Mom says that he needs to eat more but he complains that although he can chew, swallow is very hard.
He wants to stay up with the grandkids and watch tv, (tv is the only form of entertainment) but mom insists that he tries to take a nap. He tells her that he will try, but she doesn't hear him and when she asks him again, he gets upset. Since I was there, I kindly mention that even I didn't him tell her, so I am sure mom didn't either. That notion seems to help calm dad down. (I can sense that is lack of strength has also impaired his speech, he talks in a very low voice). Before getting up with mom's help, and standing and slowly moving his frail body into the wheelchair, dad states that he misses a good sleep. Mom mistaken his comment for him missing her and for a moment, they embrace forehead to forehead.
(I tear up)
She picks him up under his armpits and he is wheeled to their bedroom.
The room is simple. It has a king size bed and a twin bed with a headboard and a foot board. Mom assist in picking dad up under his arm pits and slowly the two walk. Mom in front of dad, holding his arms, and dad trying his hardest to move each foot, one ahead of the other. She turns him so that the back of his knees are against the king size bed, and he sits down, in a plummeting motion. I stand behind his wheel chair and watch, but stay out of the way in fear of getting in the way. Mom lays him down, but I see that she is having a hard time getting him to lay on his left side facing the twin bed. She puts two pillows, but I see that the two pillows are too low for him. At this stage of ALS, dad needs to be propped up or in a bed that can incline and decline. He looks settled, lying in fetal position. He struggles with his head, unable to move it. Mom leaves the room to grab her cell phone and I move towards dad, sitting on the twin bed. I ask him to try to get some rest. I gently rub his right shoulder and caress the back of his arm. He says that his head is heavy. I ask if I can move it for him, but he declines. I tell him I am praying for him. I assume he is ok and stand up. Mom says she will also rest. I understand that as my que to leave, so I step out and mom shuts the door.
It is 4:30 and I am sitting here in the living room. I think I understand mom. Despite our differences, I can understand how she is feeling.
She cares for dad, she has been since he was diagnosis. She can't leave anywhere for too long because dad might need her. She is tired and irritated. She makes off the wall comments. I can tell she too is depressed and lonely. Seeing the quick embrace they shared, I can tell mom still loves dad. I mean, her husband who was once strong, the leader of the home, the sole provider, has become like a infant.
I can see the anger, the questions she has, (she has tried everything, spent so much money) to try and get dad well again, and her pain.
I am hoping that my presence will give mom some time to herself. I am hoping she will take it. I am also hoping dad will let me take care of him.
I