28 July 2010

just in time to help poppa with his very bad day

[click image]


We got a call at six ayem to say they'd sent Poppa to the ER because they thought he was having a stroke. We called the hospital and they said they'd call us back and let us know what was up. We called again a couple hours later. And an hour after that. And then we stopped calling and just drove over there and sat in the waiting room for a half hour for the nurse to come out and say they'd sent him back to the old people's home.

Jesus fuck.

Anyway, I fed him his lunch and got him some root beer and some M&Ms to help make up for his awful morning. He said all his mornings are awful.


I know. I know. Oh, I so know, and I'm almost dead of not being able to fix it for him. It's just an endless case of Who Do I Kill? Anyway, he sucked down that root beer like it was going outta style and munched down the candy handily. That put some color back in his cheeks.



  1. Glad it wasn't a stroke though.

  2. Me too. OR, if he's gonna have anymore of those, the next one should be a whopper... either kill him outright or turn out so many lights he doesn't know what's happening to him anymore. I don't want him to go. I want him to stay my Poppa, but I SO RADICALLY DON'T WANT HIM SUFFERING LIKE THIS. I'd do anything to make it stop.

  3. My mother had a stroke 8 years ago, and a few "mini" strokes after that. For the first year after, she was pretty mixed up. When I would go see her in that first year she didn't know who I was half the time. It was heart wrenching.

    A friend of mine told me to try playing some music that she could identify with, something that she would have listened to in her twenties and thirties.

    I found some old Frankie Valli and Dean Martin tunes and put them on tape to play the next time I visited.

    The difference was totally amazing. It took about 20 minutes after I started the tapes but the difference in lucidity was like night and day. She knew who I was, we talked about the past, she even remembered things that I did when I was 3 years old. Since then, they have been able to dial in her meds so that she no longer has the mini strokes (thank god those were always scary) but I always take that tape when I go visit and she always remembers who I am.

    I don't know your papas' condition 9s, but it may be worth a try.

  4. My Poppa totally knows me. He knows exactly what's going on. He's unable to talk straight a great deal of the time, but it starts out straight in his mind. He has Parkinson's from the mini-strokes killing off that part of his brain, and so he has bad movement trouble and bad trouble making himself understood to people who prefer to think he's daffy... but he's still precisely my Poppa in there and it is SERIOUSLY difficult to bear.


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.