My father's decline has gained a horrible momentum in the last several months. There is a theory put forth by his doctors that he is suffering from numerous small strokes. They believe that it is not the Alzheimer's or dementia that is causing this crash into complete helplessness, but dementia aided and abetted by the lack of blood flow that causes strokes.

It doesn't really matter, the effect is the same. Last week he forgot how to walk. He moves his right foot but them does't know what to do with his left. You have to lean over and move it forward for him. he forgets more words daily, the exact opposite of a Toddler's language explosion. When I watched him for my stepmom last Sunday, he didn't know what yogurt was, even though he has it almost every day for lunch.

He is moving into a dementia/Alzheimer's care facility on Friday because my stepmother can no longer take care of him. Thank goodness, because I just don't think I have the stomach to help my Dad pull his pants up after going to the bathroom any more. Even though he is almost completely out of it, you can still sense his embarassment. He was a very modest man. I'm so glad he doesn't remember the feeling for long, because few things have made me feel worse than my father's shame.

When I got home from his house the other day, I talked to my husband about it. We talked about having a pact to put one another out of our misery if we ever get to that point. But what is that point? My Dad still knows who his wife is, and who I am. And he still occasionally gives a weak laugh. But I think he has passed "that" point. He can't walk, he can't really talk, he can't remember the words to ask what the score of the baseball game is. He loved baseball. He loved politics. He loved film. All gone.

I have a friend who has talked to her own father about what "that" point is. They agreed that when he no longer cares about the Washington Husky Football team, it was time. This is a friend who had to schedule her wedding around the Huskies away game schedule.

So it's gotten to the point where I really want my father to die. But I also don't want him to die. I know it will be so much harder when there is no longer a warm body there. It's strange, I've started to speak about him in the past tense, because he is no longer alive, really. And yet, and yet...

Comments

[susie]

I am so sorry, Patricia. This has to be one of the hardest things to experience, losing a parent while he's still right there in front of you. I am sorry you are all going through this, your dad and the rest of the family as well.

[Nat]

My heart goes out to you and your family.

[Anna H.]

I'm thinking of you, Patricia.

Much love.

[carosgram]

When my mother had her stroke I found it very difficult to admit that she was not the person I had known. I wanted her to still be able to care for me - I know that is selfish but it is the way I felt. I don't know if she felt shame with all I had to do for her, but I do know that I felt it. I felt I was invading her privacy and she had always been a very private person. I had so many mixed feelings about all of it. I can understand how you are feeling now. You seem to be much stronger than I was and much more generous. Your father did a great job raising a daughter.

[Theresa]

Just "found" you via NakedOvary. I have been going through the same thing with my dad and it is brutal. He had his first TIAs 9 years ago at age 68, At first we thought he was fine but soon realized there was cognitive loss. The first big change was when he his driver's license was taken away. We think he may have continued to have "silent strokes" in the time since and had another mini-stroke the day after Thanksgiving. Since then he has gone downhill even further and at dd's birthday party 2 weeks ago actually introduced himself to my mother and later tried to leave with friends of ours. He is on the verge of not knowing who we are. The most heartbreaking parts for me have been helping him with toileting issues as you described and I have found myself the past few months awake at night sobbing because I am now praying that he dies while he still has a shred of dignity left. My mom is still trying to take care of him at home but she doesn't drive either so I spend a lot of time running them around with a 4yr old on tow. It is another factor that holds us back from adopting again. I read an earlier post and in my family my mom was the nutso one (hospitalized) and my dad was a saint doing far more for us than the average husband and father. Only our stuggles with IF have made me grieve as much as seeing this sweet man become a shell of a person before our eyes.
Try to hang in there. It is so rough not knowing when it will end or how much worse he will get before it does.

[Alexandra/Infertile Gourmet]

Oh my....I think there are few things that touch the core of who we are than watching a person we love slowly slip away. It is terribly sad. What makes it worse is we all have this pride of how we manage ourselves in life so it must be so difficult to lose the ability to do so. My heart goes out to you and your father.

[sheilah]

So sorry. That sucks so badly. My uncle had anoxia (from breathing paint fumes and other crap for 50 years at work) and declined quite a bit. He was such a funny guy - always laughing and joking. It just broke my heart to see him get so feeble.

I try not to remember the last years, but I keep alive the years when he was alive and vibrant.

Good luck. It is so hard.

[Julia S]

Patricia, I am so sorry.

[Lut C.]

I can only imagine what you're going through. It sounds like a perpetual state of saying goodbye, which must be draining. Take care.

[Karen]

I also found you through the Naked Ovary link - and your recent post caught my eye.

I went through this same situation with both my parents. My mom had vascular dementia, dad had Alzheimers. In fact, we moved home from Seattle to care for them.

Good luck with your father's move - my only advice is to be sure the facility respects not only who your father is, but who he was. So often, the elderly are "warehoused" as we wait for them to pass. My mom was in a wonderful facility where every staff member treated her like the vibrant, successful woman she was - not the confused, frightented and forgetful woman she became.

Dealing with my parents' illness and decline was indescribable. I wish you strength in the months and years to come.

[Dead Bug]

This post just breaks my heart. I am so sorry that it's gotten to this point. So sorry.

Much love to you,
Bugs

[Jody]

I'm so sorry. You're in my thoughts and prayers.

[Amy]

I am so sorry.

I remember feeling similar when my aunt was so sick, in pain and out of it in the latter stages of cancer. It was time for a peaceful end.

[Ashley]

Oh my. So sad. I'm so sorry to read this. I've been faithfully reading your blog for a very long time now (often just lurk and don't post) and have seen you post about your father on many occasions. It is just so painful to read of him slowly continuing to decline like this.

I'm very sorry for you, your father, and your mother.

[Menita]

This post is shattering. I am thinking of you and your family. I am very sorry.

[Donna]

Of course you want your father not to be suffering, and that is a loving act. I am sorry for what you and your family are going through.

[Lioness]

How heartbreaking. I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry. It must be horrific. I really am so very sorry. I can only wish you and your family strength and peace, and hope you come by it soon, somehow.