On Feb 25th while showing off his seashell collection to a friend, my father tripped on a brick in the yard and fell, face first, into the concrete patio. He knocked himself unconscious and it took 5-7 minutes to be revived. Rushed to the ER via ambulance, it was determined that he had a brain bleed and was admitted to the ICU with a traumatic brain injury.
He spent 3 days in ICU and then an additional 2.5 weeks in rehabilitation regaining cognition, balance and speech (from brain to body). He was released home on Saturday of last week.
My life has forever been altered and spun out of control
With the exception of two Saturdays (which I stayed home to cook all day) I have been with my mother, as companion, advocate, translator, form filler, appointment maker, therapy coordinator, sounding board, personal chef and coordinator. I am also the main contact for all family to check in and ask for updates and information.
My brother made the 911 call to paramedics, after getting a call from my mother. He maintained calm while trying to revive our father. We work as a team. He has taken on all home alteration tasks, including ripping out and refurbishing their bathroom to make it safer and more accessible, opening walking paths in the yard and adding a rail to the front step, and any home repair that has arisen in the meantime. He is a business owner, so also has maintained his insane work schedule while also trying to be a parent.
We are both still traumatized from our past, when our grandparents lived with us because our grandfather had ALS and then our grandmother developed dementia.
We text each other all day, keeping things wide open in conversation.
My hubby has held down the fort here, mostly. I have on many a night come home to laundry, meal preparation, and home tasks that were left for me.
I am constantly telling my mother:
People do what they can do. sometimes it is what you hope for, other times it will look very different.
Today I was the villain:
I told my father that he will not be able to renew his drivers license
I read him his sleep study that showed he had severe sleep apnea, and needs to wear his CPAP with every nap and overnight sleep-time
I was the one who insisted he brush his teeth this morning, and then through my exhausted eyes handed him the wrong tube and he brushed his teeth with anti-itch cream. (it was remedied, and laughed about, but that doesn't change my mistake)
My father has seriously impaired short term memory now, as well as his balance, and he needs to walk with a walker. He doesn't remember how many times a night he gets up to pee, triggering the bed alarm so he can not go solo. I did an overnight shift on his first night home, staying awake all night to accompany him to the toilet and ideally allowing my mother to sleep, but that proved futile. My mother is a lite sleeper and was involved every time and my father is still confused why he needs the walker or company. He just doesn't remember. It is frustrating when he is angry at the attention, because he doesn't remember the fall or the rehab or the reason he needs a walker or wheelchair. He doesn't remember if he had lunch, or if someone visited him that day. He didn't remember a phone call he made to my brother an hour later.
I am glad to have the flexibility to help, honored in many ways to advocate for them, but I am losing myself in the process of helping and it scares me.
People do what they can do. sometimes it is what you hope for, other times it will look very different.
I am a zombie.
