Update on Dad

The past week 9 days have been chaotic and I can barely remember what happened on each of those days. 
I remember getting the phone call last Monday about my dad. I had just settled in for the evening with a glass of red wine. When I heard he was being rushed to the hospital I actually hesitated in what I was going to do. But I gathered my thoughts and went into drive mode. I remember phoning my grandmother and telling her…and then I phoned my mother. She was worried about me and for good reason. I was afraid that I would witness my father being combative and violent. I was scared that an episode like that might trigger memories and emotional upheavals. So she called my aunt and uncle and they agreed to come down and help handle the situation. We saw him being wheeled into a room and his eyes were rapidly darting left and right. It was clear no one was home in there. 

Once he woke up, he was too difficult to handle for the staff and they asked us to help settle him down. He was pulling at tubes, trying to hit people, trying to grab anything near him to throw. So I stayed in the hall and called my mom to keep company. The first night didn’t yield much results. We couldn’t understand anything he was saying and conversely, we couldn’t understand any of the questions the staff asked us. Regardless, we stayed until nearly 2am until he was transferred to the brain unit and sedated. 

On Tuesday I went back to the hospital before 8am to catch the neurologist. She showed me the original MRI from his accident and he’s missing nearly 40% of his brain – the left frontal lobe area. She was kind enough to stay for a while and answered any questions I had. I’ve been reading quite a bit on the brain lately (an little hobby of mine) and was able to keep pace and then some with her. If one good thing has come out of this, I now know how to read EEGs and the definition of pretty much any type of seizure and recommended medications. And I confess, the neurologist is super hot. I tried everything not to blush and stammer. When A met her later she immediately knew the neurologist is "my type" …probably because she looks very similar  and has the same body type as my "estranged wife." But A took it well. I suppose I needed a highlight to my day, heh. Later though I apologized to A for reacting the way I did. It’s unusual that I’m highly attracted to someone and it surprised me but it didn’t seem to phase A. She just laughed at me and said I could look. In fact, when we talked to the neurologist later in the week A suggested that she be our neurologist in the future just to poke at me. Yeah….I think I nearly choked when I heard that. The neurologist did give me her card and said I could call anytime and of course that created all sorts of jokes for A after she left. What can I say… but I digress. 

There were some funny moments, some stressful moments and downright gross moments while at the hospital. Let’s end on a good note here so we’ll start with the bad.

-Dad was constantly trying to get out of bed to get his "stash" which meant he was hallucinating and trying to swing at me whenever I held him back down
-Sometimes he didn’t know who I was and would try to make suggestive comments while attempting to jerk off. No joke!
-He ripped out one of his tubes and blood went everywhere. Gross!
-He crapped himself
-He repeatedly cursed me out because I wouldn’t let him out of the bed
-He kept trying to pull out his catheter. I kept trying to remove his hands from the area. As a result, I saw his junk more than I care to admit. And since I’m gay, that means it’s the first time I’ve ever seen a mans junk….beyond gross (no offense guys). 
-He kept trying to get naked

So here’s the highlights on the sad parts:
-he’s lost clarity in his speech
-he”s not able to feed himself, nor can he read. So I had to feed him 100% of the time and ensure someone else fed him if I wasn’t there. I don’t think the staff had a lot of patience for this because whenever I would see him, his breakfast or lunch would be untouched yet he always ate for me. 
-his memory keeps resetting. I’d be there all day and walk out for 5 minutes. When I would come back he’d look at me as if I were just visiting for the first time. 
-He doesn’t always know his name. When asked what the year is or the date or his birthday, he always repeats what he said the moment before. 
-He can’t walk
-He kept forgetting that I had his mom talk to him by phone and would get sad, saying she doesn’t love him. I had to constantly remind him. 

And some endearing parts:
-When I asked what his brother’s name was he said "Sherman Cocktail"
-When I asked what my name is he said "bogatyboo"
-When I asked him to say "Jess" he said "Jeff" when I asked him to say "Jessi" he said "Jeffrey" when I asked him to say "Jessica" he said "Jeffrica"  …cute. 
-He loves female nurses and is quite the charmer with them. 
-We gave him a stuffed catepillar named "puff" and he would always keep it near him or would hold and stroke it. He even called it his baby once and was happy to know he could keep it. 
-He knows I’m his daughter 
-Even though he’s not all there, he was still protective of me when someone would tease me
-He smiled at me every time he woke up. 

On Monday afternoon he was moved to a TBI facility for rehab. He’s been there before and the last time he was there for 8 months. I feel better knowing that I did all that I could to make sure he didn’t go to a nursing home. Unfortunately, he got moved around to 4 different nursing homes last time. One of the social workers I talked to has a brother who is TBI and really understood our situation. I was also able to use that time talking to her as a sort of therapy for myself. When my dad had his accident in 2008 I was living in another country and whereas I do think I did all I could, living 5,000 miles away, there’s still that feeling of wanting to do more. Me being here for him this week helped me in that regard. He doesn’t have a lot of ppl to look after him and knowing that I could just make him smile or help him eat was enough for me. I can now feel comfortable that he’s getting the care he needs up north. It’s a relief to a stressful situation.