Dealing With Dementia
My parents have always been very
independent. They both worked from an early age and they both dedicated much of
their time to EMS in their community. In fact, my dad worked until early 2019
at the age of 81. He had a lengthy list of professions, Bus Driver, Security
Guard, Police Officer, Medical Investigator, Court Officer, and Forensic
Instructor. Along with all the “jobs” he had, he was also a son, a brother, an uncle,
and a wonderful friend. However, he was most proud of the role he had as a
husband and as my father.
Early in 2019, I began noticing he
was forgetting things that he always knew like the back of his hand. As a
Forensic Instructor, he taught two classes a year at the local police academy and
his presentation was on crime scene preservation. He had three cases that he
used all the time and knew those presentations like he knew his name. I assisted
him with a class, and it was that day that I knew something was wrong. He mixed
the cases, he was unable to answer the questions that were being asked and
without making him look foolish, I finished his last class for him. His primary
medical care provider attributed all of this to “normal aging.” I did not agree
with that answer and knew in my heart it was much more than that.
In December, my cousin took my
parents to Florida with her for three months, to get them out of the bulk of
the NY winter. He loved Florida. While he was in Florida, my cousin noticed
that he was not himself. He was timid, apprehensive when leaving the house,
confused and most of all, just not the old Rich that she knew. We talked a lot about
what we felt was going on and as hard as it was, we both decided that he was in
the initial stages of Dementia.
As an Emergency Medical Technician,
I am trained to heal. As a daughter, I am raised to depend on Dad. He had by far many better days than bad. That did not negate the fact that the bad days were
trying days at best. He knew that he was forgetting but did not remember that
he forgot. There were new doctors to meet, new medications to take, and huge
decisions to make, and the most important thing that had to be remembered was
when he was able to make the decisions, he was allowed to make them.
We had slowly declining months from
February to September of 2020. He fell once because he had gotten disoriented.
He was on new medications to “slow the process down” and we were dancing around
the fact he would not give up his ability to drive. The only positive thing I
found about COVID was it made keeping my dad home much easier. While my mom was
frustrated because the man, whom she had known from the age of eighteen, was no longer the
man she fell in love with. I was faced with the knowledge that there was a
chance my dad was not going to know who I was. He became quieter than usual and
argumentative when he was not being passive. Mom knew about Dementia but did
not know what to do with it now that it lived in her house. My active time in
EMS provided me the current training and knowledge as well as firsthand
experience with it; however, when the patient was now my own father and Dementia
was living in my house it was a very new experience.
In September, his symptoms started to accelerate. He was more forgetful, he depended on me far more than anyone else and he changed quickly. He was in the hospital for four days and I had to stay there with him because his confusion at night was bad. All he wanted to eat was Teriyaki Salmon from our favorite local restaurant. No exaggeration, he had this for lunch and dinner EVERY DAY for four months. My work schedule was shift work at this time, so making sure his Salmon was there sometimes trying, and the restaurant was closed on my days off. I even tried to buy it and make it for him, but it was not what he was used to, and he would not eat it. Mid-December he started to cut back on his eating. Vanilla ice cream was his go-to food and the occasional few slices of boiled ham became his means of nourishment. Fluids of any kind that he wanted got added to the menu too.
Bidding for new shifts at my job
was posted and I chose the midnight shift. Thinking I would be at work while he
was sleeping would be the best option so that plan was put into action. That
was to start in February. January 1, 2021, while I was working a 4-12 shift, my
mom called 9-1-1 and I received her call. My dad fell, and hit his head and she was
afraid to move him. I dispatched the police, the paramedics, and an ambulance, and left work. Upon my arrival home, he was being placed in the ambulance with
a huge hematoma on his right-sided forehead. Trip to the ER, x-rays, blood work, and a CAT scan was done. Six hours later he was discharged home. This was on
Friday.
By Monday, when I helped him from
the bed to the couch, I was certain he was not going to be around at the end of
the day. I got him settled, made sure my mom had what she needed, and went to
make his funeral arraignments. That Wednesday we had Hospice at the house, he
participated in the decisions until he started to get tired. My job was extremely
understanding, they told me to take all the time I needed and keep them up to
date. I had never had the personal experience of having a palliative care
package of medications in the refrigerator and when he spiked a fever, I did
not know how to adjust to NOT fixing it. Over the next sixteen days, I became
my father’s primary caregiver. I slept on their couch every night, dealt with
making decisions on when to give him the medications in the “brown bag” and
wrote his obituary to be sure every life accomplishment he had was covered.
We had some very funny moments
during these sixteen days, and we had some very painful moments too. For the last few days, he was not responsive much, but I knew that he could hear me. I promised him I
would take care of my mom; I would make sure that he got the funeral he
deserved and most of all that I would always remember him and how much he loved
me.
The day that my dad passed away, we
watched the Presidential inauguration (only because Garth Brooks was performing),
we talked (well I talked he listened) and when it was time for him to relax, I
put on his favorite musical group, the Statler Brothers and gave him some alone
time. At 720pm I heard his breathing become agonal. I grabbed my mother and brought
her into the bedroom and she and I sat on his side, held his hands, and told him
how much we loved him and how much we were going to miss him, but that it was
time for him to meet his son and daughter that he never got to meet (they
passed at birth) and be with his Dad and Mom again.
At 7:30pm on January 20, 2021, I
lost my dad. I went from daughter to caregiver to having one parent that
night. However, I was given an opportunity that not everyone gets; I got to
share the last twenty days of my father’s life with him, I was by his side every moment of
every day. He knew how much I LOVED HIM!!
