Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Mardi Gras

Since the blog yesterday, we were able to accomplish some much needed chores for Dad and we're already feeling less guilty. We took him to the doctor yesterday because his neck was so stiff that he could barely stand up straight. Although the doctor couldn't do much besides write a note allowing Whittier to apply heat pads and pain relievers, it had to be done. I couldn't help but take this picture. He couldn't raise his head very high, so everyone was able to clearly read his hat....
Yep, it says FBI, female body inspector.

I think I felt the worst about not dealing with his dental needs quick enough, but it honestly took us a while to figure out what kind of coverage he had if any at all.
We figured it out and got up early this morning in order to get him to the VA in Long Beach by 8 AM. He hadn't been wearing his dentures lately because he has pain and sores from the dentures, but we're on the way to solving that problem and we all feel much better.

Dad was super sweet today in the VA and since there are so many 'characters' in the VA, he almost fit right in. He was talking to all the strangers in the hallway and when he saw a man in a motorized wheelchair, he yelled, "Hot Rod Harry!!!!" He even (in his own way) told the dentist how grateful he was that I was with him. He wasn't making sense, but then he clasped his hands in prayer position, bowed at me with gratitude, and then looked at the doctor as if saying "See, I'm lucky". Pretty cute.

On a side note, I learned today that when we were getting those anxious phone calls about a week ago, they happened to coincide with the passing of Dad's roommate. While he wasn't in the room when it happened, I'm sure he experienced some distress and confusion which in turn resulted in phone calls to us. I knew there was something that must have triggered his behavior. It's kind of weird that Whittier Place never told us.

AND, most importantly, according to Megan, the Mardi Gras party was a blast and Dad was definitely The King! They had a parade with floats and costumes and once Dad realized they were all clapping for him, he began bowing and blowing kisses to all his fans! The pictures say it all!

The care-givers even told Megan where the actual spiked punch was... and these were her words, "I needed a spiked drink. I'd been following Dad around for 2 hours, dealing with his costume and masks, and attending to him." It just cracked me up, because she sounded like a bridesmaid who had to attend to the bride throughout her wedding day... And I could just picture Megan following him around and trying to explain why he was dressed up while making sure his feather boa didn't fall off. Well, she got her spiked drink but as she walked off to grab something, Dad almost drank the whole thing. Wish I could have been there.

Anyway, it's like Megan said when Dad was singing along to Peggy Lee in the Doctor's Office yesterday, "This is our life." Good or bad. It's our life.


  1. Love the pics! I can relate to the guilt. I hate not going to see my mom, but then when I go & then have to sneak out or have the aids hold her while I hurry out the door - then I hate going & cry all the way home.They say she is fine a few minutes later - like a child being left at daycare:)Thank God you have a sister to share the burden with - like I do. Over the last years while my father was still alive, we called it "Tag teaming". Sometimes, as one walks out the door, the other walks in:) Hang in there!

  2. You daughters seem to handle this with such grace. Continued blessings to you.