The Short Straw

Megan's been picking the short straw lately it seems. I had such an amazing day with Dad earlier in the week, but unfortunately she's been tackling all the bad days. After her visits with him she's exhausted and doesn't feel like she can handle another minute of him and I don't blame her.

She took him shoe shopping at Wal-Mart (we were told that he needed new shoes since he had peed all over his old ones). This proved to be a little difficult because Dad couldn't tell Megan if the shoes fit when she asked him. All he cared about was trying to get his job back at Wal-Mart. We won't be taking him there again. It's too annoying.

The anger really began when they pulled back in to Whittier Place. "No, I told you, I am not doing this. This place is a Dungeon, I don't want to be locked up anymore." She got him back inside and that's when the tantrum happened. He was.... pacing up and down the hallways, knocking all his hats of the hat rack, showing her how he knocked the screen out of the window, packing up all his stuff and piling it by the door, yelling at Megan. Just unmanageable and extremely frustrating.

The staff tried to offer him Ice Cream so that Megan could slip out unnoticed, but he insisted on walking her out and then pushed his way out the gate. Megan had to go all the way back in with him and leave a different way. As she was leaving, she could hear them saying, "Come over here Dave. Have some Ice Cream with everyone." And he just yelled, "No!! They lock you up... I don't want this." She kept describing Dad's behavior as 'dramatic' because he was acting like we locked him up in an insane asylum or the county jail when in actuality his home is very nice, comfortable, and the best he can get.

Megan is convinced that it's only a matter of time before Dad escapes again. These thoughts are just consuming him and he doesn't seem to be forgetting how much he hates the place. I really hope that's not the case.

Blake and I will be going down to Fallbrook this weekend to help my Mom clean out the rest of Dad's mobile home. The new owner moves in next week and we still have plants, tools, trash, clothes, and miscellaneous stuff to get out of the house. I'm not sure which I'd rather do... deal with Dad throwing a tantrum or finish cleaning out his place. Neither one sounds great, although at least I have help with my task-- Megan was dealing with it alone.

The Smell Of Pee

Dad's room smells like Pee. Constantly. Some days are so bad that you can smell his room down the hall and you start choking. We do know that his roommate Chuck has some bowel issues. On the day after Dad moved in, Megan caught his roommate standing in the middle of the doorway to their room and peeing... ON THE CARPET. Since then, my Dad has actually wet the bed a couple of times and I think once mistook his closet as the bathroom in the middle of the night. He seems to be doing much better now. But the smell is still there. Constantly.

Most days I don't want to go in his room, but it's always good to check out what's going on in there. His room is like a box of chocolates... you never know what you're gonna get. :) Actually, chocolate is not quite the right word... maybe an old attic or something. When I walked in, his desk lamp was on the floor of the bedroom, his CD player wasn't working anymore, and he had a collection of Christmas cards on his dresser that belonged to someone else. Just like an old attic, right?

Dad had so many clothes in his closet today and I was able to identify about half of the items as Chuck's. I'm sure it does get confusing when you see two closets in your bedroom and you think that you can pick clothes from either one. The last piece of clothing that I picked up from the bottom of the closet was wet and I'm pretty sure it was pee that I was touching. Gross.

Anyway, we went to Wal-Mart to get him a new belt and a new laundry basket. (This past week Dad has been packing up his things to "move to LA" as one of the nurses told me, so I have no idea where his belts are and he obviously doesn't remember.) He was in a great mood and we listened to the Beach Boys on the way. You should hear him sing the high notes!

Dad used to work at Wal-Mart so he likes going there. In the video I posted today he comes up with the idea that maybe he could start working there again but then gets side-tracked cause he starts checking out this girl in the parking lot who is wearing short shorts. "Booty shot" he calls it. And then I make fun of him and he says, "Oh, Dirty Dave. Yeah, I'm kind of looney. Classified." Haha. Yes Dad, you are looney and a little dirty!

We get back to his home in Whittier and I am ready to spray the room from top to bottom with the new air freshener that we bought. We walk into the room and I see Chuck laying face down on the floor with a swivel chair half on top of him. Of course, I check to see that he can hear me and then I run for help. My Dad says, "What happened? What's wrong?" as I'm running away. It doesn't occur to him that Chuck fell down and probably hit his head. I don't think he even noticed him on the ground.

I knew now that I was going to be late for work. As I rushed to leave, I spent the last few minutes rubbing 1% Hydrocortisone on my Dad's back because he has an itchy rash. Guess we'll be taking him to the doctor on Monday. Before I left, I saw the nurse shut the window in their bedroom. Oh Goodie, she is trapping the pee smell in the room!!