I visited Poppy today

Forgive me for writing about my dad more than about the rest of my family, but for right now, he's really on my mind, and I guess this is what these online journals are for.

I visited Poppy today. I squeezed the visit in between running an errand and a meeting to plan our Brownie troop's overnight at my house the first weekend in August.

Really, I thought he'd be ok. I thought he'd be with others who were temporarily housed in this convalescent hospital, who he could communicate with, and get his physical therapy together with them.

Was I ever dismayed to find him in a lock-down unit, in the Alzheimer's care portion of the hospital all alone.

When I first entered his room, I saw this small, dejected man in his bed all alone. When he saw me, the tears began to stream down his face. We hugged, he cried some more, we hugged again. He said "I've lost hope."

The staff had shaved his mustache. I became angry. It wasn't bad enough they grouped him together with these screaming, begging, disoriented people (think One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest), but they shaved his mustache!! He’d had that mustache for over 25 years! We all liked it. No one asked him or me if it was alright to shave it.

A mustache seems like a small thing to worry about but it just added insult to injury to the shock I received at finding him in an advanced stage Alzheimer’s unit. I had been told he was only there for two weeks and for physical, speech and occupational therapy. Not that he’d be in with full-blown Alzheimer’s cases.

I stayed with him more than I was supposed to do; I had our babysitter staying with Emily while I raced over to see him and brink him his blanket as well as some clothing. We talked about all the people who had called inquiring about him: Mozzelle called from Montana, Denise called from Colorado, Florence and John both called and wrote a letter to the both of us letting us know how much they thought about us, and even my Aunt Georgia called and asked about him. He seemed very glad to hear all that. Dad seemed to like the blanket very much. He cried some more; we hugged for a very long time and said “I love you” to each other several times and I had to leave. I stopped at the nurse’s station and she very kindly listened to me explain how I felt about him being in this unit and about his mustache getting shaved. She told me who I could contact in the morning in order to set things right again for my dad.

When I left, I got one more glance into my dad’s room and blew a kiss to him. He seemed a little better, but it was such an angering and depressing experience. I want him to see the girls, but I don’t want them to see him right now. I certainly don’t want them to go there yet. Maybe I’ll let them see him if and when they transfer him to another room. It’s so sad to see my intelligent, loving, caring, physically fit dad lose his fight for life one piece of him at a time. I’m beginning to see the “blessing” of my mother passing so suddenly. I do hope we can get him moved out of that unit, at least.