my father

[Drunk Monk]

My Dad seemed more alert yesterday. Surprisingly so. He even tried to get up out of his wheelchair a few times. He still doesn't swallow solids, even the mushy stuff he is restricted to, but does drink a little. He's lost over two dozen pounds. My mom got taken in by a phone scam. They claimed to be medicare and got her banking number. She thought it over just after, and then was told by an aid at her hearing aid appt. immediately that medicare never calls anyone (it's government - the govt, never calls). She changed all her numbers and so far, it doesn't seem like any damage was done. Damn vultures. The phone scammers had access to a lot of info, probably had access to the medical records somehow. That's crazy, right? Anyway, mom is more upset about herself falling for this than anything. It has been a scapegoat receptacle of her frustrations. Tara has been quiet about the whole matter. She had a big cry with Stacy last week when I was at my mom's, which she blamed somewhat on her grandpa's situation, but she's had so much going on in her life lately - to be an incoming freshman at a new school - they make Disney movies about those trials. Stacy has been great supporting me. Honestly I don't know what I would do without her. She sees the pressure I'm under and knows how to back me up. As for me, well, it's been a trial for sure. It's really hard to do my job - to focus on writing and the swirling details and deadlines - but it's getting done.

ON a side note, Friday the 13th went really sour. I've just started training with a new monk, and it's been him and me at class because he's just getting started. That's been great - as ass kicker - but great. Anyway, towards the end of the lesson, while I was catching my breath, he was showing me this spear set. He wasn't going full out at all, quite the opposite, when the spear shaft caught him in the mouth and chipped his tooth. I ran over to the Vedic temple next door and borrowed some milk (milk is always used in Indian ritual). Keeping a tooth in milk helps keep it alive but it was somewhat in vain. He went to the dentist but can't afford the fix. I really felt badly for him. He has terrible luck sometimes.

[Drunk Monk]

Dad seems eager to participate in activities. Mind you, activities isn't much more than being wheelchaired to a room where other elderly patients sit and stare off with glazed eyes, but as he's not following TV anymore, perhaps it's the change of scene. The medical term is dysphagia. He continues to stuff his mouth, unable to swallow, and then sit with chipmunk cheeks and food dribbling over his chin. He needs assistance doing pretty much everything, sitting, lying down, getting dressed, going to the bathroom.

Mom is still resolving the loose ends of her bank account changes to deflect that phone scam. She vacillates from reporting on Dad, repeating herself, being exhausted, and chastising herself for memory slips which she attributes to imagined advancing dementia. Fortunately, she's still working Sudoku, which is about all you can do for dementia. It's very frustrating for me when she has doddering moments, as that may be a whole other challenge to face someday.

I was super depressed yesterday. My work PC was crashing. The commute leaves me alone with my thoughts for too long, and they invariably turn morbid. Yesterday was Moon Festival - a big Chinese holiday that I usually delight in - so there are a ton of moon cakes here at the office. I'm looking forward to getting back to the Cruz tonight and watching a Jackie Chan flick with T. I've been reading Jackie's autobiography as a bedtime story (we still love bedtime stories) and she's become quite a fan. It's ironic as I turned my Dad on to Jackie. I turned a bunch of people on to Jackie, maybe even some of you, as I was watching him way back when he had just broken out in Asia in the late 70s. He's building a theme park now in Beijing. Go Jackie!

[Drunk Monk]

My dad's doc now thinks he'll live a few more months. He's fighting it. He's always been tough that way. I visited him earlier this week by myself. We talked, or I should say I talked at him, and said all those things a son wants to say to his dad on his deathbed. I don't know if he understood at all. He was fading in and out. It was very emotional for me, but I'm glad I got that opportunity as so many do not. Now we wait...

[thatguy]

My family members seem to be quick to check out. I'm not sure how I would have handled the opportunity to spend time with them in decline if I had it...

Sorry you're going thru all that DM.

--tg

[El Dingo]

My dad told me this joke several times before he died:

"I want to go out in my sleep, with a smile on my face - not screaming like all my passengers"

I think a whole philosophy course could be taught on this wish.

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

Endure. There is another side of this, a coming out of the trees back into the light.

[Drunk Monk]

Hospice has formally begun. Mom isn't into it as she doesn't really see what they are doing. She feels they are more appropriate for home care. Hospice provided a binder, written in like 16 pt font, that was mostly useless, save for a small pamphlet about some of the behaviors of people nearing death. Having been bedside for the death of some friends, I didn't realize how universal some of these behaviors are. I also got a phone call from a hospice worker that was way too cheerful. She didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. At least, hospice provides more eyes to look after Dad, to keep him comfortable.

Apparently Dad had a great day yesterday. He ate his lunch and beat a hospice worker at tic tac toe. That's the most responsive he's been since the hospitalization for his bladder issue. I wonder if it's the surge of energy that sometimes precedes death. Mom was encouraged to see him brighten up a little. He has lost about six more pounds. Coincidentally, Dad had his initial stroke just prior to a Shaolin trip I made to Las Vegas, where several noted monks, including my master, were meeting for a Thanksgiving-like celebration hosted by one of my Shaolin brothers. And next weekend, I'm headed to LA for the Shaolin Temple Cultural Festival.

[Greg_phpbb3_import1]

Don't go down that path.

[Drunk Monk]

It seems the dysphagia has abated. He ate well yesterday, or at least so my mom reports. My mom was happy about it and joked that he may live a while longer now, long enough to completely deplete the family savings. :?

I'll see him tonight.

[Greg_phpbb3_import1]

Yay. Good news.

[El Dingo]

We took my 79 year old mother to River Rock Casino for her birthday. She's alert, excited and insisted on climbing the 3 floors to the parking garage.

Genetics are weird.

EDIT: This is not some sort of 'bragging' thing. My maternal grandmother died at 55, my father died at 69, my maternal grandfather died at 70, my fraternal grandmother died at 81. I'm just saying genetics are weird.

I'm planning to die in a trip to moon colony 7 when we collide with Soyuz debris.

[Drunk Monk]

He was in bed asleep when I arrived but he roused quickly and was very attentive to what I was saying. Lying on his bed, he nodded and gestured appropriately with his 'yup' and 'mmm' replies right on cue. Even his reply tone and expressions were responsive - more so than he's been in many moons. I told him everything I could think of about what's been happening with our family and he was quite engaged. Then, as our one-sided conversation died down, he dismissed me with a courteous wave. He was tired and clearly wanted to return to sleep.

[Drunk Monk]

...or rather, the false alarm

My mom called me in the middle of the Shaolin Festival last weekend and damn near gave me a cardiac. I had lost myself in the Shaolin scene, basking in what little celebrity my career has afforded me, when I got a call on my cell. It was a brutal wake up call. As you know, I use a crappy burner cell, a dumb phone, more like a digital watch on which I can make an occasional call or text. So I had to leave the crowded venue, dodging medieval weapons being swung about at random in the name of 'warming up' to get to a quiet place to hear what my mom had to say. Dad had more blood in his cath, so the decision was finally made to give him some antibiotics. Mom was just updating me as that decision was dangling when I left. I'll see them both tonight. Mom said Dad has been pulling out his cath, so there's some sort of restraint on him now to keep him from doing that anymore. He is to be transferred to another room soon.

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

Glad it was "a call" and not "The Call".

[Drunk Monk]

I visited my dad last week. He waved at me when I approached in the hallway, but was very tired, so he only listened to me and nodded replies for a short time before drifting off to sleep. He has a new roommate who is very noisy - sleep apnea - with is bothersome. Mom says he didn't eat on Friday, but cleaned his plates over the weekend, so the dysphagia seems to have abated. She also reports that he seems really engaged now, really present. She thinks he's adapted to the home and will live a while longer now. He was trying to pull out his catheter, but the doc thinks it was due to some sort of irritation/infection. They did wind up giving him antibiotics despite him being on hospice. Apparently they will medicate when it's not life threatening, when it's just a matter of comfort. My mom and the doc now think he'll live for several more months, not the original 4 month sentence that was the original prognosis. We're happy to have him here still with us, and yet there is little hope of much more improvement. We have him in an excellent facility and my mom is quite content to keep him there as they are very attentive. But it's about $8K a month, nearly $100K a year, so it will plow through my family's savings at an alarming rate. Fortunately, my dad made a good living and has a lot of savings, but what a way to spend them, right? My mom is not stressing it too much at this time as she is in the process of liquidating some accounts in preparation. She showed me a fat wad of savings bonds, all of which have accrued as much as they will as most are from post WWII. Health care just kicked in, so we should be getting some assistance with the medical bills. We still have to see how much that will be in the end.

So again, we wait.

I was thinking back when me and my dad used to go out to see Kung Fu films. He was a great fan of the genre too and I have many fond memories of going to flea-infested theaters that ran Chinese movies back in the day. We used to be really amused by long death scenes. Perhaps I've mentioned before that I toyed with the idea of writing a book on Kung Fu films which I would title "Spit blood and die". We used to delight the longest death scenes and I remember we were both blown away by some old Kung Fu flick that had the villain spitting blood and dying four times before finally giving up the ghost. Now my dad is peeing blood and his death scene has gone on for a decade. Good ol' Dad. Way to go.

I know, gallows humor, but sometimes I can't restrain myself...especially as Halloween/Dia de los muertos approacheth.