Today I finally awoke under my own roof, in my own bed, after a whirlwind series of emotional and travel adventures. This morning, I ventured outside to walk the dog, I made coffee, and then the three of us–me, the dog, and an enormous slab of wedding cake–promptly returned to bed, where we have been ever since. Yes, I know it’s a Tuesday. But after the ten days I just had, I am taking a Sunday instead.
As my previous post indicated, my dad’s “routine” eye surgery resulted in a catastrophic outcome that took two ophthalmologic surgeons and an anesthesiologist totally by surprise. It was like driving to the grocery store and running over an IED–devastation, horror, and total shock. Suddenly, my mother’s primary caretaker was both physically incapacitated and emotionally devastated, though he was too stoic to show it overtly. My mother is slightly more demonstrative (sarcasm!), and she swung violently between compassion for my dad, fear at an uncertain future , and indiscriminate anger at various people–me, my sister, even my dad–for various infractions–patronizing her, being disrespectful, taking the front seat of the car. That last perpetrator was my dad! Returning home after two days in the hospital as a newly one-eyed man, he had the audacity to try to take the front passenger seat. (He is 6’3″ and she is 5’3″, so where she gets the idea that she should sit up front like the Queen of France, I do not know.) My mother was so focused on her own victimhood, and also having to pee (despite my sister begging her to go before she got in the car), that she completely forgot the nature of the task at hand: driving my dad home from the hospital.
It took days for the New Reality to sink into her memory, and even now she routinely forgets that my father only has sight in one eye. He can’t bend over due to concerns about the pressure in his eye. He can’t see out of one eye, so his depth perception is fucked up, undermining his ability to perform routine tasks. His meds have been changed, and his tremor is worse, so sometimes he can barely feed himself. He can’t drive. He is in pain. And for days, his eyelid and surrounding tissues were swollen and black. Not the red and purple people mean when they say “a black eye,” but LITERALLY black. The sclera (white of the eye) is still cherry red, and he literally weeps blood. And my mother looks him right in the face, without recognition of any of this, and chastises him for not being able to help her pick specks of dog food off the carpet or go to the store to get her the right kind of cereal.
Fuck you, Alzheimer’s!
My dad’s surgery was on a Thursday nearly two weeks ago. My sister called with The News about 3 PM, and it’s been crazy ever since. I packed myself in 10 minutes, drove across town to drop the dog at my parents’ apartment, then pushed on to the hospital, where I stayed with my mother until 10 PM that night. The next day, we were back at the hospital by 9:30 AM, an epic feat considering that Alzheimer’s has completely ruined my mother’s executive function. She cannot plan and complete a task, so the simple request that she dress herself and eat some cereal drifted into efforts to clean the apartment, organize a cabinet, and repair a tear to the newspaper. It’s like having a toddler, but a toddler who weighs 130 pounds, knows they are legally an adult, and can push your buttons like nobody’s business.
We took my dad home that night, and I stayed over to attend to him. The next day, my sister and I worked in shifts, which enabled me to escape for a bit. I went to my friend’s bridal fitting, and then we visited a mall to buy makeup like Fancy Ladies. We are bad at malls, and I will write about this excursion at some other point. $260 worth of makeup later (WTF!), I headed back to the loony bin to spend another night with my folks.
I spent Monday & Tuesday grinding out a big project, Wednesday I got caught up on the anatomy of the heart and blood vessels for the class I’m taking, and Thursday I had an all-day meeting in the city. Thursday night I went back to my folks’, stayed over, then left Friday morning at the crack of dawn to fly to New England for my cousin’s funeral. Two days of celebrating my cousin’s life, crying at his grave, and catching up with extended family, then back on the plane to fly home. (More on this later.) I went straight from the airport to my friend’s open house on the eve of her wedding. Then back to my parents’ apartment, where I had stashed the dog but was also supervising my dad’s care. This brings us to Sunday.
My friend married the love of her life two days ago, and it was a wonderful day from start to finish. I had some drama with my parents in the morning but was finally able to extract myself around noon and head to my friend’s house to help with wedding prep. It was a day of firsts–I made my first bridal bouquet and my first groom’s boutonnière, and I did my first-ever bridal up-do. It all came together beautifully, though thankfully the bride’s aesthetic was “you tried hard, and it will look good from a distance.” The party went late, as all good parties do, and I finally arrived back at my parents’ apartment at 2 AM yesterday. I awoke about two hours later in extreme pain. The booze I consumed at the wedding must have anesthetized me from feeling the damage I was doing to my body by being on my feet in peep toe stilettos for 8 straight hours. My toes looked like sausages, my feet and ankles were swollen and sore, and I felt like I was 150 years old. As of today, the swelling is down in all but two toes, but those little piggies remain completely numb.
Bad at malls, also bad at high heels!
A few more hours of fitful sleep, and then I was up and out, Ubering to retrieve my car across town, running errands for my folks, assembling post-wedding flower bouquets for display at my parents’ retirement home, walking their neighbor’s dog, and then finally
driving myself and my pup HOME.
As an introvert, I need a lot of downtime after being around people in emotionally charged situations, whether they are sad or angry or exuberant and joyful. I have had all of these in the last ten days, and I am spent. The list of creatures I can stand to deal with is currently counted on one hand: my dog, a few dear friends, and another piece of wedding cake.
Everyone else: Please hold.
I will be with you shortly.