Dad

Dad’s health went downhill fairly quickly between 1998 and 2004. He was put on oxygen and diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes. 

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July 21, 2004

My dad still hasn't gotten a will or anything set in place. At least mom went through the china hutch and bookshelf with me and decided who got what. That only took two days. I couldn't get mom to stay on task to save my life. I dread when they both go and I have to go through that house trying weed out the pure shit from the good stuff. Sigh... she is SUCH a pack rat! Makes me want to totally empty out my house.

I DID get some scrapbooking done, though. It was a good idea to take it. It kept my hands busy while ma yacked my ears off. She could talk to the dead and bore them to death. I don't know how many times she kept going on and on about Jessica and how Marta's gonna try to get custody of the baby Nicolas and so on and so forth.

Dec 26, 2004

Dad was just taken by ambulance to Deaconess Hospital in Spokane. They think it's his appendix. Mom will call as soon as she gets up there and they make a diagnosis.

Jan 1, 2005
AHHHHH!!! I wanna go HOME!

It WAS his appendix and he went in to surgery Sunday night. Monday morning I went in to the doctor to get on antibiotics then Kelsie and I headed to Spokane, much to max's dismay. SHE wants to be in charge and was starting to really piss off mom. Anyhow, we spent Monday night at the motel with mom, max and Becky. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday it was just the three of us. We got to bring Dad home Friday night after the bowel meds got him started and he learned to self-cath. His bladder isn't working yet so he has to put a catheter in. 

Anyhow, at the hospital and motel it wasn't too bad. Boring as hell, but mom didn't keep bitching at Dad too much. Kelsie and I spent a LOT of time in the waiting room.

As soon as we walked in this door though... OMG! I wanted to kill them. Mom NAGS HIM TO DEATH!!! It drives me crazy. It's all a power struggle. She keeps asking to nag him about self cathing, and I don't want to! I did sorta boss him around and told him jokingly that, "It’s 8:00 young man! You need to pee!" and he stuck his tongue out at me. Then he said he wanted to wait til 9:00 so that it would be right before bed. Okay I can understand that and told him so. But MOM started raising a fuss about it being a baaaaad idea to wait. Sheesh! POWER STRUGGLE! Leave him ALONE. He can't pee on his own, but with the cath he at least has SOME control. Don't take it away like that!

Sigh... we're stuck here til Monday at the soonest. He has to go back to Spokane for a follow up and I'm their ride. Which means I miss work and Kelsie misses school. Sigh... poor kid. She's SO BORED. 

I hate it when she gets diarrhea of the mouth. People don't need to know that Dad had to poop and learn how to self cath before leaving the hospital. TOO MUCH INFO!

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After we got back to the folk’s house, my mother got on the phone to call EVERYONE and tell them how Dad had to rely on a catheter to pee. Poor man. He must have felt the same way I did when my mother announced to the world that I had started my period.

 

My parents lived in a tiny farm town that had NOTHING fun for the young crowd to do… except get drunk and go cow tipping. Heck, there wasn’t anything fun for the older crowd to do, either. No movie theater, no bowling alley (it had closed down), nothing. For “fun” you go walk the Walmart.

Their house was like a fortress. My mother insisted that windows and doors be kept closed and locked at all times. She would keep the curtains pulled “in case someone tries to peek in.” And she would peek out several times an hour “to see if anyone is out there.”

 

If I wanted to leave, I had to give a full account to my mother of where I was going, who I was going to be with or see, how long I would be gone, when I would be back, and so on. My dad, on the other hand, would just say “see you when you get back.”

And when I got back, it was the third degree: who did you see, who did you run into, what was that person doing, what were they buying, did they say anything gossipy… you get the idea.  

 

Despite all this, my dad retained his silly sense of humor.
I miss him.