So, it’s been a long week this morning, and this is often the only place where I can just unload and get unqualified support and love. I feel like I do nothing but complain, but . . . I’m so out of my depth, it’s not even funny.
Last night, Dad realized he couldn’t find his car keys. At first, he just looked for them. Then, he grabbed mine off my desk - figuring, I suppose, that either any car key was better than none OR that I had taken his car key and put it on my key chain. So, it turned into this whole drama thing, with me worried that if he couldn’t get his car started, he would try to drive my car, which is a stick shift, and in his hands, an invitation for chaos and destruction.
He was still sitting in his car when Mom got home more than an hour later. There was a whole argument/discussion with Dad demanding his keys, and Mom refusing. Because he was so upset, Mom gave him a diazepam (Valium) with his night time meds. Mom and I discuss the matter and go to bed.
At 4:45 in the morning, Dad comes upstairs, comes in our bedroom, and stands there. I wake up and ask him what’s wrong. He won’t answer. I ask him again and ask him what he needs. He won’t answer. Mom, who is chronically sleep deprived, finally wakes up, and he demands his keys back. At a quarter of five in the morning.
Mom says they can talk about it downstairs. He refuses to leave. So, she leaves. And he sits there, in our bedroom, refusing to talk to me. I finally give up and go back to sleep. He finally goes downstairs. More arguing. Mom sleeps on the couch for the remainder of the morning, to make sure Dad doesn’t do something stupid.
At a quarter of eight, she comes upstairs to say that he has barricaded himself in his bedroom and won’t come out or let her in. She needs to take his blood pressure and give him his medications - the medications that keep his bloop pressure in check, keep him from flipping more clots off to his brain, and keep his aortic abdominal aneurysm from going Old Faithful. He will not come out, he will not talk to her, he won’t let her in.
So, I say, “call the police”. The police come out on a “wellness check”. And, seriously, it would have been kind of funny if it hadn’t been so damn tragic. Dad trying to tell the first officer that if he didn’t have a warrant, he couldn’t come in. Seriously, Dad? Never heard of exigent circumstances? Going to argue procedure with a police officer? Seriously? Oh, but he’ll come out if he can have his car keys. Thank Og, the police absolutely would not back down on that. Instead, the lead officer used words like “commital” and phrases like “I’m being polite, sir, and I’d like to continue being polite.”
Dad finally comes out. Even though I’m standing in the back, even though he hasn’t heard a peep out of me since I asked him what was wrong and what could I do, he looked for me, and when he saw me, he glared at me. I’m to blame. He hates me. (sigh)
I disappear upstairs while Mom gets his blood pressure, gives him his meds, finishes up with the police (lovely people, I need to send them a card), and talks with him. It takes over an hour to get him in a less truculent mood. She comes upstairs, and we talk.
- he says he wants the car keys in case of an emergency. Never mind that we no longer leave him alone in the house. There’s always an adult there.
- he threatened to divorce Mom if she didn’t give up the car keys. She said fine, but he needed to remember that meant they would sell the house and nearly all their possessions, and then where would he live? He couldn’t answer that.
- oh, and BTW, when his doctor’s nurse asked him for the diagnostic code to send to the DMV to revoke his license, the doctor answered “Alzheimer’s”.
- Mom and I think it’s more likely that he has vascular dementia, it’s moot. His brain is damaged, the damage is going to progress, and barring some catastrophic incident, it will kill him.
From the statistics I’ve found, a man Dad’s age, diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Stage 4 (which is about where he is), has a little over a year left. That’s not including co-morbidities like his hypertension and AAA. Mom needs to get Power of Attorney, which Dad is not going to cooperate on, so she’ll probably have to have him declared incompetent. Oh, such fun.
Last night, I was angry. This morning, I was shell-shocked. Now, I’m just tired and very, very, very, very sad.
in mid-Michigan on the campus of MSU, and the coeds are starting to bloom nicely. 
