I will always remember our last Christmas. We had invited my
dad, who was living at a very nice senior complex, to spend Christmas Eve with
us and spend the night. We had done our usual family tradition of going to a
Christmas Eve Service at night after having done our usual New City feed our
homeless friends in the morning. We had a great time at church and grandpa did
fairly well considering it was cold outside and we went out for dinner.
As a kid I was usually up before the dawn awaiting the
permission of the parents to open my gifts. As an adult I’m really not much
different. So this last year I arose early and we took our herd for a walk and
did our usual routine of Starbucks in the early morning. As we started to get
ready for breakfast I started to wake up my dad. He was snoring so I assumed he
was fine. I had just brewed some coffee and was in the process of getting a cup
for my dad. As I started to help him sit up I realized something wasn’t right.
I went ahead and handed him a cup of coffee. I will never forget how he grabbed
it in a rather odd fashion.
I looked him in the eye and asked if he was ok. He responded
quickly but I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. He had slurred speech
and seemed a little disoriented. Anne was busy getting dressed after her
shower. She came down and I asked her to watch grandpa as I did a few things.
After I finished we both concurred that grandpa wasn’t ok. The last thing I
wanted to do was call 911, follow my dad to the ER and spend Christmas in the
hospital.
The firemen that helped my dad were incredible. They were
very patient and slow with my 82-year-old dad who had dementia. I had no idea
what was going to happen. The day had started off incredible and now I was
waiting to see if my dad was going to live. It took a few hours for him to get
checked out in the ER. They determined that he had a stroke and needed to stay
at the hospital for a few days. They ran some initial tests and discovered he had
a mild stroke.
After a few hours he was transferred from the ER to a normal
room. I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I didn’t cherish having to
call my brothers and tell them that my Christmas had just been put on hold. They
decided to do an MRI in addition to a CT scan. I knew it would take most of the
day to get the results. He was now stable and able to rest. He was still a
little confused and not as able to talk. He was a little frustrated when he
realized what he said and what he thought didn’t jell.
The doctors met with me and gave a quick overview of what
had transpired. He had a mild stroke and they decided to keep him for a few
days and do an assessment. They also wanted to put him on a new medication that
would help his dementia. I had heard of dopamine
when I did research in college. The specialist explained that this new
medication would help with my dad’s ability to be agile and get around. I went
home after this discussion.
I was upset and mad at the world. How could my dad have a
stroke on Christmas? This had ruined my Christmas and made me doubt God’s love
that would bring heartache and tragedy on this special dad. I went back to my house and dove back onto my
bed and crashed with my dogs. I must have slept like a baby because before I
knew it my clock said 7pm. I had slept for a couple of hours with no regard to
the time. As I pulled myself out of bed I walked down to our family that was
finishing up their Christmas feast. I was thankful that my dad was stable but
wasn’t necessarily ok.
The rest of my Christmas day was a blur. I was hurt by this
happening and ticked that my kids didn’t respond that much to what just
occurred. The following months was a journey that saw my dad go into a great
rehab center, next to a group home and then back to the hospital and then rehab
center. Needless to say none of this was exactly what I had thought would
happen. My frustration mounted after my dad’s stay in a group home didn’t work
out very well. We were up in flagstaff for a summer get away with my kids when
I get a call from the group home owner asking if my dad should go to the ER
because he had a bad cold.
I was so much wanting to get away with all of our kids and
enjoy Flagstaff. We decided to just all go back to Phoenix and I end up
spending most of the night with grandpa. He had pneumonia and wasn’t doing
really well. They decide to keep him for over a week until they discover what
is the cause for his infection that caused everything. During this time I have
decided to ‘fire’ the group home and consider putting him back into a memory
loss facility. Fortunately my amazing Anne and Heather had checked out a few
places a few years before.
The incredible story is that we rediscover Clair Bride, an
excellent memory loss facility, that is
in Tempe not too far from where we live. We did the usual walk through and make
a decision, not knowing if this was best, to have my dad moved from the group
home to this memory loss facility. His stay in the hospital meant that he would
be in rehab for at least a month and maybe as long as 6 weeks. The great news
was that dad had already been at South Mountain Life Care so we knew he would
get excellence care and actually improve.
I can’t fathom now a year later my dad is a totally
different person. He has gained weight, mobility and is actually more able to
speak and think. This truly has been a miracle year with him going from the
hospital to now being able to fly around with his walker. He’s become a
passionate Lincoln Log builder and is now, contrary to his past, capable of
sharing his room with another gentleman. I was truly amazed this morning after
our Christmas walk with our dogs and Starbucks run that as I picked up grandpa
he was singing, this is my story this is
my song serving my savior all the day long.
I was almost in tears as I realized that my dad not only could still
sing but actually remembered the words to this amazing hymn.
I brought him over for breakfast and we ended up having some
special friends with their little guy over for breakfast. Grandpa had fun
watching little Phinny walking all over the place. So I am so thankful that God
has given me the experience of an unfortunate Christmas that now brings an
amazing gift of a dad who is capable of getting around. His caregiver mentioned
casually as I kidnapped him that he was now able to put his own shirt on. I
know that this could be our last Christmas together or could be the first of
many. My dad’s aunt lived to be 107 and grandpa is only 83. I am have a much
better Christmas this year!
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