Tag Archives: dad

Old Man Sounds

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Good grief. I can’t seem to get away from old man sounds. Everywhere I go in this house is filled with sounds coming out of Dad. You’ll laugh, I’m sure, but this is no laughing matter. 

The only peace I get is after Dad goes to bed at night. I get from 10pm to about 1am of peace and quiet, time just for me. This is my time to relax, not just my body but my brain. I guess it’s peaceful when I’m sleeping, aside from the furbabies playing and raising cane some nights. If I wake up around 5am or 6am to use the bathroom, I put in my ear plugs so I don’t hear when Dad gets up around 7am. I know what you might be thinking. What if Dad falls? Trust me. If he falls, I will feel it. I don’t mean intuitively. I mean I will actually feel the vibration in the floor if he falls. I feel the boom and I’m awake to check on him. It’s happened before. 

Just a reminder: I sleep in my lift chair because I cannot sleep in my bed. It’s a pain and discomfort thing. So, I’m stuck sleeping in the living room. If I don’t wake up during the night to use the bathroom, I get woken up when Dad gets up at 7am. All he does is make noise. He sits in his chair, not 5 feet away, and sniffs and coughs, sneezes and farts. He clears his throat. He blows his nose. This is all continuous, mind you. When he farts, I’m talking thunderous farts! I’m tempted to set my alarm to wake up at 6am to use the bathroom even if I don’t need to, just so I can put in my ear plugs! 

I have asked Dad not to let me sleep past 9am. That gives me my 8 hours, if I’m lucky. I can’t wait for the day when our new house is move-in ready, just so I can sleep in my bedroom! The way it is right now, it’s like having someone sitting in my bedroom who doesn’t belong there. I plan on getting an adjustable bed as soon as I can, but I can have the movers put my chair in my new bedroom, if nothing else. When we move, my sister will be here to help me look after Dad, and help with the cooking and cleaning, because God knows I can’t. I manage to fix us something to eat but that’s about all I can do. Getting off track, sorry. You want to hear more about the noises…

The other morning, I kept hearing a crunching sound. I thought Jack had caught a mouse and was feasting on it. It wasn’t Jack. It was Dad, crunching on ginger snaps. You know, those crunchy ones from the Dollar Tree.

Just now, as I write this, Dad farted standing in front of the heater. That’s all he does, all day long. This house smells like farts. I know. Laugh it up! He just farts and farts and farts. I am so tired of the smell. I try to stay in the kitchen as much as possible. I work puzzles, do diamond paintings, journaling…that type of thing. But the living room leads to the kitchen, which leads to the bathroom, so every time Dad heads to the bathroom…he farts…and he usually farts as he walks by me! So I have to smell it until it dissipates. Sometimes, his farts are so loud, I can’t even hear my audiobook so I have to rewind. Holy cow. It drives me insane! I know he’s old and every one farts, but geez Louise. Have a little class, right? Just because we’re related and live in the same house doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be somewhat polite. 

I guess I’m done complaining. I do appreciate my Dad and I enjoy his company. It’s just that things have gotten worse in the last couple months and his noises annoy the heck out of me! This is causing me great stress, if you can believe that. I just grin and bear it, aside from letting Dad know how bad his farts smell!!

The Night Dad Scared The H*ll out of Me

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It’s getting to be too much for both of us. Getting groceries, that is. I always place a curbside order once a week. I try to limit items to no more than 20. It never fails I end up with more than 20 because one of us forgot we needed toilet paper or paper towels or something else.

Dad and I pick up the order, which is the easy part. (Good grief, I hope Walmart never discontinues this service!) When we get home, I load bags of groceries into a utility cart. Heavier items go on the bottom, of course. Dad pulls the cart up the ramp and into the house. The problem is, we still have some heavy items like water and kitty litter. I use our lunch cart for those items; I bring the cart to the door and Dad carries those items to the door and puts them on the cart. It’s not far because I pull right up to the ramp. When all is unloaded, I tell Dad to go change his clothes so he can sit and rest. I unload the groceries from the utility cart and put things away.

Dad changed his clothes and sat down in his chair to rest. He was exhausted and went to sleep. He fell asleep off and on for the rest of the day. Later, he watched a movie or something on the Firestick. I was in the kitchen doing a puzzle, listening to an audiobook.

When it crept closer to 10pm, which is his bedtime, I knew he had fallen asleep because he was so quiet. Normally, I hear him cough, laugh, talk to one of the cats, or more often than not, drop something like the remote. He falls asleep in his chair all the time so I didn’t think twice about it…until it was 10:15 and he was still not even getting ready for bed. Usually, he gets ready for bed around 9:45.

I went to check on him and there he was fast asleep. I saw his chest rising and falling but he was out like a light! I called out to him to tell him what time it was. He didn’t wake up. I called out louder and still, he didn’t wake up. I sat down in my chair to give the furbabies their Temptations snacks, as per our normal routine. Trust me, they were all sitting by my chair waiting. They knew it was past time! 

I kept trying to wake Dad, getting louder and still, nothing. Finally, I touched his hand and tried again to wake him. He just would not wake up! I shook his arm; still nothing. I shook harder and finally, thank God, he woke up! He scared me to death. I thought I had lost him. I just cried in a huge wave of relief. He had no idea what was going on. 

I dread the day I have to say goodbye to this man who has truly been there for me my entire life. He is closer to a best friend than I’ve ever had in my life. (Even closer than the best friend I actually had, who come to find out, was judging me all along.) He has helped me raise my kids when their father couldn’t be bothered to write to them. We have shared many things, including finances and health issues.

Losing Dad will be the biggest loss I will ever face. 

The Memory of A Bridge Too Far

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Back in 1977, I was a mere 15 years old. I took my Dad to the movie theater to see a war movie called A Bridge Too Far. I never liked war movies, and I still don’t care that much for them. Dad and I watched this movie on DVD last Friday night. It was still a good movie, all 3 hours of it. With an all-star cast and great production, it kept my attention. Not just Friday night, but all those years ago when I was just 15 years old! This really isn’t about the movie, though. It’s about the memory of seeing it with my Dad.

For all these years, I thought we saw the movie with the original Jaws, but after Googling Jaws, I learned that there were 2 years between the movies. I asked Dad about it and he said he remembered us going to the movies twice; first to see Jaws and then a second time to see A Bridge Too Far. Now, his short-term memory sucks but he does have good long-term memory so I have to trust his memory vs. mine. 

I think I had more fun in the theater with my Dad than I ever did with my mom. I took Mom to see Jaws, too. Of course, she drove because in 1975 I was only 13. She laughed during the movie (sadistically, I might add) and seemed like she couldn’t wait to get home. I never went with her again! 

Dad was a different story. He has always loved a good war movie. As a kid, he and his friends used to go to the movies. It cost just a few measly cents to get into the theater back then. Oh, the stories he used to tell about those days! He was happy to see a good war movie, even with his daughter. We had popcorn and soda, everything my treat. I spent my hard-earned babysitting money! It was a good memory. Just me and Dad. 

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A Bridge Too Far / 1977 / Starring Sean Connery, Michael Caine, Anthony Hopkins, Robert Redford, James Caan, Ryan O’Neal, Gene Hackman, Lawrence Olivier, Elliott Gould, Maximilian Schell, Ben Cross, and more.

Lord, Have Mercy On My Tired Soul

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It all started with a flat tire. I figured Dad would just call AAA in the next day or so…more like weeks later because he never wants to call anyone for anything. Ugh. My DIL sent someone over to change the tire for us the next morning. I wasn’t even awake yet but that’s ok, I knew I could take a nap later. So, here’s this skinny girl out there trying to get the lug nuts off and one just won’t budge. I was shocked that she could get any of them off, honestly. Well, she wasn’t able to get that last one so she left. 

The aggravation started when Dad decided to call AAA. Not that hard, right? Well, he called the tire shop in town first which was ridiculous because he would still have to call AAA to get it covered and he knew this. I told him that, too. The guy at the tire shop told him the same thing but if the lug nut was stripped then his shop had no way of getting it off. Seriously? So, Dad calls AAA. But he doesn’t. He ends up calling the tire shop again because that’s the business card he had in his hand. I asked him, “Are you calling AAA,” and he nods his head. He gets the tire shop and they tell him again that he has to call AAA first. Good grief. 

He calls AAA, finally. The line was busy the first time. Dad sat there for 3 minutes listening to the busy signal. I could hear it from where I sat. I timed him. After 3 minutes I asked him why he was listening to the busy signal. He said he was waiting to see if someone would realize he was trying to call. I said, “Dad, it doesn’t work that way!” Anyway, he calls again and gets a real person. He explains the situation with the lug nut. They said they would make some calls to find the right shop to do the job, and they would call him back within the hour. That’s good, right? But Dad gave them the wrong address and the wrong phone number! Before he could hang up I told him to verify the address and phone number. I could hear the woman’s voice on the other end and she repeated the address and phone number correctly. At least they had it on file correctly. In the meantime, someone else shows up, who Dad believes to be from a shop that AAA sent. It wasn’t. We found out the gal that was here first thing had called a friend of hers who lived in the area. He was an older man. 

While Dad was outside talking to the older man, the phone rang but I didn’t get to it in time. It was another tire shop that AAA contacted. The man left a voicemail and said he was on his way. I would have called him back right away but I wasn’t sure if the older man would get that blasted lug nut loose or not. So, I waited. 

The older man managed to get the lug nut loose and put the donut on the car. Before Dad even got back in the house, another guy showed up from the first shop that Dad had called. Dad just assumed that AAA called them. (They told Dad that they had no way of removing a stripped lug nut, so why send someone out anyway?) 

When Dad came inside, I told him about the call from Ed’s tire shop and he said, “He was just here.” I said, “No. It couldn’t have been because the call came in when the older guy was out there talking to you.” He told me he didn’t know that guy’s name but it was someone from Ron’s. I told him that not enough time had passed for Ed’s Shop guy to travel 30 miles. He just wasn’t getting it. He kept saying, “The guy from Ron’s was just here.” I told him again, “It was ED’s Shop that called, Dad. Not Ron’s.” He said, “Oh.” Finally getting it. I told him he’d better call him if the tire situation was taken care of, so they don’t waste their time and gas. He said he would but he had no way of knowing their number. Holy crap on a cracker. I gave him the number from the voicemail and he called. Good grief. 

It was suggested to me that I take over and make all of the calls, getting Dad’s permission to represent him. I would do that but Dad needs to keep his mind working. He does absolutely nothing all day but watch tv. He washes the few lunch dishes we have most days and helps with the laundry but that’s not exercising his brain. I am having a hard time taking care of myself, let alone him and everything else. Dad can’t let his brain go! It’s getting worse and worse. He won’t read a book. He won’t do crossword puzzles. He won’t do jigsaw puzzles with me. He won’t get involved with other seniors. He says, “I hate old people.” He won’t do anything but sit there and watch the news, all day long. I could make it less stressful on myself but is that helping him? 

I won’t put Dad in a nursing home unless and when it’s necessary. I can’t help but think about when I put my Granny in a nursing home. She was there for 2 weeks and was having a good time but then she got sick and was in the hospital for about a week. When she went back to the nursing home, she was there for a few days and then she passed away. I know in my heart that she got sick because she wasn’t used to being around so many germs. Dad is rarely around anyone but me. Nursing homes are chock-full of germs. I know. I used to work in one!

There are other things I/we could do like getting someone in to help but in this old house that’s damn near falling apart? That’s all I need, is some do-gooder coming in and reporting to Senior Services that we have no business living in this house. Our new house isn’t anywhere near being completed, so where the hell would we go? Are they going to foot the bill to not only find a new house for us to live in but move us in as well? Hahaha.

Well, as Granny used to say, “It’ll all come out in the wash!” Until then, I’ll just fake it ’til I make it, as they say or just grin and bear it.

S.R.M.

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Stark.

Raving.

Mad.

Stark Raving Mad: informal, meaning completely insane.

Yes, I am going stark raving mad. I know. I signed up for this. Dad will be 88 years old in February of 2025. I get it. I expected things would be a bit nuts as he got older but holy bat shit, Robin! 

Some days are better than others. Some days there are no issues at all. Today? Ugh. Today is one of those days where you just want to pull your damn hair out and scream. 

It started first thing this morning. I just woke up and I saw on my weather app that we are supposed to have thunderstorms on Tuesday. I told Dad that I hope I don’t lose our internet/wifi (we have a satellite phone) because I am expecting an important phone call from the SSA regarding my SSI benefit. I’d just hate to have to call them back – you know how it is. They leave you on hold for 40 minutes before they actually get to you and then they end up transferring your call to another department, and so on. Anyway, Dad said he hoped for no storms as well because he might miss his call from the Husqvarna folks regarding his mower. They are supposed to call before they come out to pick it up for repairs. I reminded Dad of what he told me last week. He said that he told them if they can’t get ahold of us then to just come pick it up. He said he never told me that. He told me what they said about calling before coming. I told him that yes, he told me that but he also told me that he told them if they couldn’t get ahold of us then to just come pick it up. He argued with me until I just dropped it. I try not to get that “I’m right and you’re wrong” attitude because there have been times that I have been wrong, but he always does this to me about so many things! I can tell him he already saw a certain movie and he’ll argue that he didn’t and swear up and down that he did not. He actually gets pissed off! So, I just let him watch the damn movie over again. No big deal but then about 30 minutes into the damn movie he tells me that I was right. He did see that movie afterall. Ugh.

Anyway, after lunch we had the same discussion we had last week. Dad had an appointment with his Cardiologist who happens to be Japanese with an accent that is hard to understand unless you concentrate very hard. When Dad came out from his appointment, he told me that the doctor wants him to take acidophilus to help lower his blood pressure. I’m look at him dumbfounded and I tell him that can’t be right because acidophilus is a probiotic and it’s for your gut. Good grief. He argued with me. It was listed on his printout. The next thing on the printout was Amlodapine (sp?) which he already takes so then we assumed that the doctor was just going to give him another script to take another dose at a different time during the day. But there was no explanation on the printout and Dad said the doctor didn’t say anything about that. I’m sure this doctor is a good one but there’s always so much confusion – and I’m not sure if it’s the doctor’s accent, or my Dad, or both.

A day after his appointment, Dad gets an email from Humana telling him that his new script for Isosorbide Mononitrate ER was being processed. Why the fuck didn’t the Cardiologist’s office put that on the printout like they did the acidophilus? You’d think anything new would be put on the list with any new instructions but I guess that’s just too much to ask. We had both forgotten about the Isosorbide Mononitrate ER today, but eventually I remembered and then he argued that he never got anything from Humana about any new medication! Holy balls. Anyway, we got it all straightened out but what’s next? 

My brain is exhausted all the time. I not only have to deal with my pain and mobility issues, which are constantly in my brain, right there (pointing to my forehead) not letting me forget, as if I could, but I have to keep up with Dad and his meds and his this, that, and the other thing. And he wonders why I stay up until 1am every night. I need those hours (3 to be exact) after he goes to bed, so that I can relax, recharge, and dump all of the shit from my brain into the atmosphere. Lol. Otherwise, I won’t sleep. During those hours I don’t have to worry about him because he’s in bed. I don’t have to be on high alert. He has a pee can in his room so he doesn’t get out of bed. I don’t have to worry about him falling down or bumping his head or spilling something…or some…thing… 

Wish me luck!