That's What Jenni Said

As I posted previously my father died on March 5, 2011. He was 82 years old and he passed exactly six months before his 83rd birthday. This is the story of his death. On a Wednesday in late February my father alarmed the staff at Manassas Adult Daycare (run by the Manassas Baptist Church) when he suddenly appeared non-responsive to their questions. He was rushed to the ER but presented responsive by the time the doctors saw him. They considered releasing him but opted for the conservative approach of admitting him for testing. Inside I was secretly relieved- a hospital admission would lead to a direct transfer to a nursing home upon discharge for rehab and then Daddy could get the professional caregiving support he needed. Each day at home had been getting progressively more difficult. Dad complained more, demanded more and slipped in health a little more as we moved through winter. I was wounded so many times by his careless and biting remarks. He had one behavior that particula...

Early this morning I took my father to his cataracts surgery. And as we went over all the paperwork and preliminary procedures I had the same thoughts I always do when taking my parents to medical appointments: Who is going to give care for Jon and I when we are older? Who is going to take us to early morning appointments? Who is going to make sure that we aren't left in emergency room hallways without a way to use the restroom (The doctors did this to my mother and if I wasn't there to advocate for her then what...) ? Who is going to make sure that our multiple doctors don't prescribe meds that run counter to each other or interact in harmful ways (been done to my parents multiple times, but thankfully I noticed and corrected)? Who is going to hold our hands when we have to go in for surgery? Who is going to clean up our bathroom when we have a stomach flu and get sick everywhere? Who is going to love us? I see the future for us as elderly seniors and it scares me...