20
I sighed as I spoke to Jacoby on the phone. Apparently, dad had an episode in the ER a couple of days ago and things are influx right now.
“So what happens now?” I asked, twirling the glass of wine in my hand. Randi and I were getting ready for a date night while Zach and Gena offered to watch Ava overnight. Their newest grandchild had recently been born and apparently, things were going better this time around.
“We don’t know,” dad admitted, sighing. I could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose, as he does in times of high stress. “He’s apologized a thousand times to everyone involved, especially to Sean. No one is blaming him, everyone forgives him, but he’s still distraught. Dr. Magnus is on the fence about letting him keep working, understanding that he just had a moment. But if he has one moment, it could lead to others, etc. So now the question is, is he stable enough to keep working? Or, should he be allowed near patients? Sean is working with us and the doctor to come up with the answers, but there’s nothing easy about it.”
I can’t imagine my dad not working…and while he loves to garden, I think he’ll go bonkers in the winter, which is fast approaching, as we’re already into fall. Shaking my head, I looked out over the ocean, as the deck door opened and Randi stepped out.
“Well, keep me updated, dad. I don’t know what the answer is, either, but there has to be one. I’d hate to see him forced to retire after only one incident.”
“I will. I love you and you go have fun on your date night.”
Smiling, I returned the sentiment and hung up. “Oh shit.”
Setting into a white chair across from me, Randi cocked her head to the side in askance. “What’s up?”
“Dad,” I said and she nodded, taking my hand and gently kissing it. “He had an episode during a code. It was basically a meltdown all because the woman was grandma’s age and she coded and died. It took a while to get him calmed down, too, I guess, but now he’s okay. The problem is that this might lead to other incidents, of course. Now, they have to decide if he’s stable enough for work and if so, if he should be allowed around patients or not. Dad’s going to keep us updated, but it’s not looking good for Jimmy.”
She nodded, her face drawn into a deep frown. Jimmy had been a big help to her when I went through my addiction phase and she sees both my parents as fathers, since hers died when she was very young. I stood and we embraced for a moment, something I found myself in desperate need of.
“Until we know more, it’s no good dwelling on things, even though it’s what you want to do,” she reminded me, as I dried my eyes. “So, let’s get to our date night and the second your dad calls with more information, we’ll talk it over.”
“I love you,” I told her, kissing her briefly. “Now, let’s get to our fun.”
***
When a week went by with no news on Jimmy, I thought maybe things were okay, but Jacoby finally called with the update. So far, emails from home had been guarded (I can tell by how Jacoby types), and just when I thought about calling they call.
“Well, your dad saw Dr. Magnus again for a follow up,” he started and I waited. “It was decided that he can resume working, but someone will keep an eye on him. Any time they think he’s going to have a meltdown or be too close to a situation, he gets reassigned to something more benign.”
“That’s fair,” I agreed, switching ears. “What did dad have to say?”
He sighed and I sensed that dad was not happy. “He agreed to it, but he wasn’t happy. He was really confused again this morning, too, so Randy spent the day with him. He forgot to turn off a burner the other night and luckily I caught it before anything happened. He’s getting worse, but the medication counters most of it. The doctor has taken him down to every two week visits now and the rules are stricter. I’m afraid I’m going to lose your dad, honey.”
I wished I was home right now to help out, because I could hear how upset my dad was. He and dad have had their ups and downs, hard times and good times, but I think this was going to be the hardest of all. And my father had to make all of the decisions about care for my dad now, because dad might not be able to make them for himself.
“He’s got time, dad,” I assured him, familiar with the progression of dementia. “I’ve cared for many dementia patients and this progresses differently for everyone. I know that dad’s is progressing a bit quickly, but you said yourself that the medication is working. It sounds like you have a great support team up there as well. I wish I could be there to help, dad, I really do. What happens from here on out?”
There was a pause and I imagine he shrugged; it’s how he does things. “We don’t know. There’s going to be a lot of talking, a lot of doctor visits, etc. We’re trying to get some answers.”
I nodded (it runs in the family), and then I thought of something. “Dad, has anyone checked his sats?”
“Why would we? He’s breathing just fine. He’s not even on oxygen right now, except at night sometimes when sleeps. So why would his COPD factor into this?”
I resisted the urge to growl in frustration at my father; he’s only being a spouse and not concerned with his medical knowledge. “Think about it dad: is he desatting during activity? Do these episodes seem worse with activity? I’m not denying that there’s probably some dementia going on here, but maybe he should be on oxygen more often just to see if these episodes of dementia decrease a bit.”
I could hear Jacoby muttering to himself, and I hoped he was arriving at the same conclusion I was. “I’ll talk to the doctor, okay? I guess in all of the excitement, his COPD got put on the backburner; it’s been under control, after all.”
“Well, it never hurts to ask. Just keep us updated, okay?” I asked, and he said he would. “Love you, dad, and tell dad I love him, too. I need to get Ava from school.”
With that, we hung up, but I was worried. If my theory isn’t correct, and it may not be, that means this is more serious than I thought. But if I’m right, it might mean his progression can be slowed, just a bit. I realize this is, ultimately, a losing battle, but maybe we can at least provide him some help in this matter.
Shaking my head, I went inside and grabbed my keys; Ava would be waiting. I had hoped she’d have many happy years with both grandparents, as I have had the pleasure of having, but it now appears that she’ll miss out on time with Jimmy. I had hoped that would not be the case, but if I’m wrong about how the COPD is affecting him, then this really is a quickly progressing case of dementia. In that case, there’s little we can do than hope that the medication works for a long time.
Of course, if it doesn’t, that means I’m going to lose my dad sooner than I thought. I think we all knew this was bound to happen; he’s had memory problems for years. But they were always minor, you know? He’d forget to shower once in a while, or forget that he’d eaten. Sometimes, he’d forget us at school or something. But we were always able to adapt and find ways to help him remember. People would visit and have no idea that there were little things all over the house to remind dad to shower or that he’d eaten or whatever. We kept a calendar updated with work, events, etc., to help him. Now, none of that seemed to matter because dad could get lost just driving home from work.
With a sigh, I got the car started up. It was still warm out here, even for October and I welcomed it. They’d had a cold snap in Iowa recently and I heard it’d gotten frosty quite early. I loved California too much to ever leave, that’s for sure. Marg was coming out to visit here soon, around Thanksgiving, and I was looking forward to it. I think we’re hosting Christmas this year as well, so dad and Jimmy already plan to be here. I love having family together, but I feel like this might just be our last Christmas with dad for some reason.
***
Before I knew it, Thanksgiving was here. Marg had flown out to spend time with us until the New Year, as the baby we were adopting was due any day now. We were in constant contact with the birth mother, had been to her appointments, but didn’t know the gender; it was more fun to find out later. The nursery was done, ready to go in a pirate theme, and all it needed now was our youngest child. The mother was due on November 29th, but the doctor said she could go any time before with no complications.
“Is the baby here yet?” Ava asked on Thanksgiving morning. I was just putting the turkey in as my daughter sat at the table eating cereal. We were the first ones awake this morning, and it looked like it was going to be rainy and cold.
“Not yet, honey, but soon. We have about four days to wait.”
She sighed dramatically and I laughed. While Randi and I were certainly excited for the new baby, Ava seemed to be the most excited. We’ve explained to her what having a baby around means, but she doesn’t seem to care. She’s in kindergarten now and even wants to bring the baby for show and tell; I told her we’d see about that when the baby was a bit older.
“Get the turkey in?” a sleepy voice asked and I smiled, turning to greet Randi. Marg was right behind her, but I kissed my wife anyway; her mom doesn’t care.
“I did,” I said, nodding. Ava ran for her mother and grandmother and hugged them both tightly. “Ava, if you’re finished, please put your dishes in the sink.”
I flinched when the glass bowl hit the stainless steel sink, but as usual, it didn’t break. I don’t know how much longer that bowl is going to hold up, but we’ll deal with it when she finally breaks it. Laughing, I watched her run upstairs, as Randi yelled at her to be sure to get dressed and brush her teeth.
“I’ll go supervise,” I said, still laughing. I’d already eaten, and this would give my wife and mother-in-law a few more minutes to relax before we had to start serious meal prep. Grandpa was coming over, as were various friends and local family, so we needed to get moving. “Ava, be sure to put on the outfit I have out for you, honey.”
Thankfully, today she did not put up a fuss about anything. She brushed her teeth, wore the outfit I’d picked and let me do her hair; I think it’s the excitement of having company. Her classroom had also adopted a couple of families with nowhere to go and we were having one of those families over soon. I think she’s becoming friends with their daughter and it would be nice for her to have a playmate her age.
“We’re here!” Eliza called from the doorway fifteen minutes later. Food prep was in full swing, but the extra help would be great. “Kids, go play. Corey, take your sister.”
“Do I have to?” he whined, and I smiled as he held Marianna’s little hand. She was fourteen months now and a ball of energy that kept everyone busy.
“No arguing. Take her to the playroom and watch her,” Clayton said sternly. Corey nodded, moving off with his sister in tow. He was eleven now and thought he was exempt from watching his little sister. “Kids, I swear. Rhi, go play.”
Rhiannon had turned six recently and developed a very introverted personality. She wanted to be close to the adults and that was it. Eliza was worried about her, but I said to give her time. Noting that she did not want to go play, I kneeled down to her level.
“Do you want to go play?” she shook her head no. “Do you want to help in the kitchen or sit at the table and color?”
“I want to color,” she whispered and I nodded, taking her to the table. I know her folks think forced play will help, but it won’t, as I’ve told them many times. “Thanks.”
While she was settled in with crayons, markers, and plenty of paper, stickers, and foamies, I returned to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. I wish my parents could be here, or us there, but we had Christmas to look forward to. Both were still working, but Jimmy’s problems were worsening. No retirement dates had been set yet, but Jacoby was thinking he could do better staying home with dad. Jacoby has said they won’t make any rash decisions, but I have a feeling their working days are ending soon.
“Worried about dad?” Eliza asked, as I stirred the stuffing together. I nodded, sighing. “Me, too. But things haven’t been so bad of late, dad told me. I mean, he’s had some episodes, but nothing like he was having there for a while. The medication seems to be working for now, so we have to focus on that, okay? They’ll be here the week before Christmas and stay through New Years, so we’ll see for ourselves how things are going.”
“I know,” I agreed, sighing. “But I just feel like things are spiraling out of control more quickly than we can handle, you know? I don’t want to lose him to dementia.”
Eliza took me out onto the back deck and then hugged me tight. We haven’t always gotten along over the years but that was all in the past now. I couldn’t help how I felt, because while I was a terrible kid and a worse adult for a while, I still loved my parents. Jimmy got me through the hell I went through and finally made me see reason; I owed him a lot.
“I know. I don’t want to lose him to this disease either, Cilla. But it looks like we don’t get a choice. This disease is going to claim him at some point, and no medication will be able to stop it. Right now, the medication is working, but it’s not guaranteed to keep working. We should be glad for whatever time we have now with him, remember that. I know it sucks that they’re out there and we’re out here, but we have to work with that.”
I nodded, wiping my eyes for a moment. Jimmy is overly emotional and so am I, and Eliza knows that. “I know. And I will appreciate the time we have. We’re on Skype more now than ever before, just so I don’t miss anything, but I still wish they’d move here. They know we don’t want to go back, that we’re happy here with our families. But I feel guilty for that, sometimes.”
Eliza held me tighter for a moment before shaking her head. “No, don’t feel guilty. They don’t expect us to move home for the exact reasons you mentioned. We’re happy here, we’re settled, we’re not leaving; they know that. So, we’ll make the most of the time we have, okay?”
I nodded, taking a deep breath, before we returned inside. This disease sucks, and I wish there was a cure for it. Science is close, but many, many more people will be lost before they cure it. I just hoped that my dad wouldn’t be one of them. I don’t think I’m going to get my wish.