Z/Web

Today we had the Memorial Service for Grandpa. I had an invasion of relatives (about a dozen stayed at my house), which was nice and kept me distracted. First we stopped by the cemetary and watched a short presentation as Grandpa’s ashes were placed in a crypt next to Grandma. That was very difficult for me. I couldn’t watch but had to look away. During the Service I was to give a eulogy, which I wasn’t sure how to do. Though I was close to Grandpa, I really only knew him for a fraction of his life. It’s rather a challenge to summarize 91 years on the planet! I thought I was going to go later in the service, but apparently things were switched around and I was told, seconds before the thing started, that I would go on right after the opening prayer. That didn’t give me time to reread and practice, which meant I was more unpolished than I preferred, but I was more worried at being overcome with emotion and being unable to finish (we had a backup reader if I couldn’t make it). Fortunately, except for a minor flub or two, it went okay, and the main thing was that people really appreciated my unique perspective of Grandpa. My eulogy told stories about what I learned from him and thus at least wasn’t dry and boring (which was what my aunt had wanted). I think Grandpa would have liked it.

After the Service we had a pot-luck dinner at the church, which was neat, as I was able to see some people I hadn’t seen since I was a teenager. Grandpa had been one of the people who’d started the monthly pot-luck tradition at that church and they still do it today, though the church has had different leadership for many years now. Funny the way things like that stick.

I have created a Memorial Page for Grandpa on my website. It contains links to all my “Adventures with Grandpa” newsletters, pictures and audio/video clips, as well as audio files of the entire Memorial Service. I also broke out just my Eulogy, in case you just want to listen to that (it’s much shorter than the entire service). It’s all MP3 and MPEG, so it should work on any computer platform.

Today my grandfather went to be with the Lord. About 18 months ago I took over his care. He had been living with my mother, but when he lost mobility, she was unable to continue (she could not lift him or properly assist him). At the time we weren’t sure how much longer he would live — my uncle warned me it could be months or years. Unfortunately, he continued to decline. He got a hip replacement, which helped ease the pain in his leg, but developed gastro problems at affected his eating until we found treatment, and last fall the hip replacement became infected, requiring constant antibiotics and caused severe leg pain. Most recently we did home infusion antibiotics, which eventually seemed to cure the infection, but during the process his kidneys began to weaken. Twice he ended up in the hospital due to kidney complications. Fortunately, they did recover, but were severely weakened. He was slowing down, not eating as well, but still mentally healthy. On Sunday evening, June 11, he seemed fine. I got him to eat half a grilled cheese sandwhich for dinner. About 3 a.m. the next morning he called me and was acting strange. He was having trouble breathing. He has asthma so I gave him his puffer, which helped. But every thirty minutes he kept calling for me, and each time it was strange requests, almost delirium. Once he wanted his pants so he could “go outside.” I told him it was the middle of the night and he said, “Oh, I didn’t know,” and promptly laid back down and went to sleep! Another time I found him on the floor with no idea how he got there. I lifted him back into bed and he didn’t seem to be in any pain. Later in the morning, he had trouble getting dressed: his right leg was in a lot of pain, making me think the infection had returned. His temperature was a low 94.6, but after breakfast (which he didn’t eat), it was 99.4 — we called 911 immediately. By the time he got to the hospital it was nearly 103! It turned out he was suffering from a myriad of inter-related problems: a bladder infection meant he wasn’t urinating properly which resulted in kidney strain and fluid build-up in his body, which collected in his chest, causing congestive heart failure and pnemonia. It also turned out that he’d broken his leg with the hip replacement — apparently the infection had weakened the bone so it was incredibly fragile and it had broken in several places (possibly that time I found him on the floor). But worst of all was something called sepsis — an infection of the blood — which is serious even among young healthy people (who can take months to recover). In the end, it was too much for the poor man. We’d just celebrated his 91st birthday in May, which is not a bad achievement, though he always talked about hitting a hundred. Always positive, even the day before he died he was telling the doctor he felt great.

Granda was a very special man. His sense of humor was dry and subtle, even to the end. While in the hospital, during his last week, I tried to get him to eat his lunch, and he wanted me to eat it. “No, it’s yours,” I told him. “You’re the patient.” He looked up at the nurse who was nearby. “Am I the patient?” he asked in convincing confusion. She was startled until I explain this was his form of a joke! I could see the twinkle in his eye.

I shall miss Grandpa dearly. He and I were very close. When I was a baby my father was killed in a car accident and he and my Grandma cared for me until my severely-injured mother was better (which tooks months). I lived with them for many years, off and on, over the course of my life. They even took me on as a teenager, during my high school years, something I wouldn’t wish on young, healthy people. I feel blessed and honored I got to be with Grandpa during his last years. Caring for him was stressful, educational, and filled with magically tender moments of humor and love that made everything worthwhile. I shall miss Grandpa, but I know he’s at peace and out of pain now.

Grandpa turned 91 today! Amazing. That’s a long time. He’s seen a lot in his lifetiime. He insists he’s got a long ways to go yet — he wants to reach 100! So far he’s been doing very good. His leg pain is minimal and he’s pretty active, getting in and out of his wheelchair on his own, dressing and undressing himself, etc. Lately he’s really been enjoying the cats, Mayhem in particular. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Mayhem’s figured out that if he jumps in Grandpa’s lap he’ll get petted, so all the time now I find him curled up in Grandpa’s lap (on top of the hot electric blanket Grandpa insists on using) purring a happy tune. Grandpa is delighted and now refers to Mayhem as “my cat.”

Grandpa’s home again and doing great. He’s eating like a monster, which is awesome. Last time he was at the hospital he stopped eating. He ate breakfast but no lunch, and barely any dinner. Now he’s back to three meals a day. Not huge meals (though his breakfast is substantial), but anything’s an improvement. We’ve got a whole new set of medicines for him, which is awfully exciting (not). But he feels great — he told me he felt like he was 30!

Today was supposed to be our long-planned trip to the coast with Grandpa. Instead he’s in the hospital. Yesterday the home nurse was here to take a routine blood test and later I got a call to get him to emergency right away. Apparently his poor kidneys aren’t processing potasium correctly and there’s too much in his system, which can lead to heart failure. So I got him over there last night and he’s staying there for a few days so they can monitor him. He feels fine and is in good spirits — the potasium level showed no outward signs. It’s a pretty silly muck-up: I’ve had him on water pills since last summer because he was retaining too much fluid (he swelled to 144 lbs. at one point — he’s normally around 100 lbs.). Because water pills drain your fluids, they always proscribe them with potasium pills, to replenish your supply. But Grandpa’s kidney’s aren’t functioning as well as they used to do, so now the extra potasium’s too much. Yet, of course, no one mentioned this or caught this after his last hospital stay with kidney problems, so the last few weeks I’ve been faithfully giving him potasium pills every day! The idiot doctors noticed the potasium levels rising last week but didn’t say anything to me because the level wasn’t dangerous. If they had, I could have stopped giving him the pills and he probably would have been fine! Instead they waited until the level was too high and I had to rush him to the hospital. There they gave him some stuff to bring the potasium level down and now they want to watch him for a few days. And of course, we’re not giving him potasium pills any more. A big “Oops, someone should have noticed that” from the doctors. Nice.

Grandpa came home from the hospital. Even this wasn’t as simple as it sounds. First, my van’s battery was dead, as I expected, as it has a slow drain and if it’s not driven at least once a week it won’t start. Then, on my way to pick up Grandpa, my Neon started shuddering and not accelerating correctly. The “check engine” light came on. Unfortunately, I had a tight deadline: I had to get Grandpa home from the hospital in time for his next infusion of medicine which was to begin in a couple hours. Fortunately, the car made it, though it wasn’t happy. The hospital’s ten minutes away and by the time we got home, it was overheating. I just made it to my driveway. After getting Grandpa settled, I called a tow service to jump the van (it wouldn’t jump connected to a car), which worked, but the tow guy knew something about cars and didn’t like the sound of the engine. He checked the oil and found it was completely dry! I’d been meaning to get an oil change for a while (for both vehicles) but had kept putting it off. Unfortunately, my car knowledge doesn’t extend much further than knowing where to put the key — it had never occured to me to add oil (they usually do that when I change it). Anyway, we added oil and the van seemed okay — at least the engine sounded better, though apparently the alternator belt was too tight and that’s what was making the squealing sound on startup. We checked my Neon and found the same problem — no oil — and added some there also. During this period the nurse arrived to show me how to administer Grandpa’s new medicine — he’s on a 24-hour a day pump that shoots in the antibiotics. Everything was happening at once!

Today we celebrated Grandpa’s 90th birthday. I had sent out invitations to many of his old friends and family and we received a ton of wonderful letters and cards. Probably close to 40 people actually came to the party, which was held “open house” style, from noon to evening. This worked well because people could come whenever it was convenient for them. Grandpa got to see many people he hadn’t seen in many years and it was a wonderful day. He was amazingly alert, chipper, and healthy: people were astonished in what good shape he was in. It really is a remarkable achievement and wonderful to see him doing so well at 90 years of age.

I worried it’d be hard to convince Grandpa to sell his beach house, but I explained it carefully and he seemed to understand, even pointing out that it’s better for him to be more inland and that he doesn’t go to the beach any way. This afternoon we met with the notary to have Grandpa sign. I’d given Grandpa a note that explained what we were doing and every time he wondered what we were doing I reminded him to read the note: “Sign papers to sell the Oceanside house.” Everything was great until the actual signing. Then he balked. It wasn’t that he wasn’t wanting to sign it — it was that he insisted on understanding every word of the one-page contract (power of attorney for my mom to sell the house). Nothing wrong with that, except his short-term memory is so poor he couldn’t remember our explanations and kept asking the same questions over and over! Finally, however, after nearly an hour, he seemed to conclude that everything was in order and he signed. Whew! I’m glad we don’t have to go through that again!

Today we celebrated Grandpa’s pre-birthday. His birthday really isn’t until May 9, but two of my cousins, Tami and Philip, flew in this weekend as it fit into their schedules the best. Philip’s in Manhattan, Tami’s in Houston. Tami brought her 14-month-old son, Rowan, so Grandpa got to see his great-grandson and boy was he proud! I escaped Grandpa from Oakwood and he was at my house all afternoon and we had a great time of fellowship, fun, and way, way too much food (for some unknown reason I’d prepared for 50 people when we only had a dozen). It was a terrific experience and Grandpa really enjoyed it.

Today I took Grandpa out of Oakwood to the doctor. He needed a local doctor, so I arranged a new patient visit and today I took him there. I was leary about transporting Grandpa and how he’d handle everything, but it turned out to be just fine. He managed to get into my van just fine — the new hip has certainly minimized the pain he used to experience when getting in and out of vehicles. After the routine doctor visit, Grandpa didn’t want to go back to Oakwood yet, so I took him to Shari’s restaurant where he ordered the shrimp lunch and loved it. He hasn’t been eating the hospital food very well, so I was delighted to see him add soup to the meal and eat most of it, eat all the shrimp and most of the fries, and ask for ice cream for dessert! It was a great excursion and something I think we should do regularly.

Today Grandpa was transferred to Oakwood, a local care facility, where he’ll stay for a few weeks, learning to use his new hip. There are things he’s not supposed to do (like bend over 90 degrees) because that might dislocated his hip. He rode over to Oakwood in a wheelchair van and seemed to like that a lot — he didn’t even have to get out of his wheelchair. His room at Oakwood is nice and there’s a facility cat that visits his room regularly as it has the best window. Oakwood actually encourages pets — it suggests you bring yours when you come to visit. That’s awesome. Instead of regarding pets as dirty animals, they feel they are a health benefit, and I agree (especially for the elderly).

Grandpa got a new hip today. Everything went beautifully. He didn’t even know anything had happened. When my mom and I went to see him at noon, after the procedure, he wanted to know when the surgery was going to be! Looks like he’ll be in the hospital for another week and then he’ll go to rehab.

Today I had to take Grandpa to the emergency room. He couldn’t get out of bed this morning. His right leg was bothering him too much. He screamed in pain when I just looked at it, let alone touched it or tried to move it. He decided he’d just stay in bed all day. Not a good solution, considering he might need to use the bathroom eventually. I was concerned because this was not normal. His leg frequently bothers him and he has good days and bad days, but this was almost complete immobility. To be safe, I called his doctor. The doctor on call freaked when I mentioned Grandpa had a slight temperature (99.2) and said I should immediately take him to the hospital. Apparently even a slight temperature is a sign of serious things in an 89-going-on-90 old man. At the hospital they took blood, urine, and x-rays, the ER doctor reporting that Grandpa had not broken his hip as originally expected, but he definitely needed a hip replacement. Since this hip issue had put Grandpa in a care facility at Christmas, the doctor couldn’t figure out why nothing had been done then. But Grandpa’s previous doctors hadn’t suggested anything even though we asked if something couldn’t be done to help him. This doctor immediately got on the phone with the hospital’s orthopedic surgeon and within an hour he was there, dressed in jeans as he was not working on Saturday, and examining Grandpa. It was quickly decided that hip replacement surgery was the only thing to do. Without it Grandpa would remain bedridden and in pain. With it, he might even walk (with a walker or cane) and he should be pain-free. So it looks like that’s what’s on the schedule.

Grandpa has been living with me for a couple weeks now and life sure has been interesting! To provide family and friends with a glimpse at what it’s like, I decided to start a little newsletter. It’s full of little humorous stories about Grandpa and his new life here with me. Even if you don’t know Grandpa, you might find it entertaining.

A brilliant idea to the Grandpa dilemma: he will move in with me! The logic makes total sense: I work from home, so I’m almost always here. Unlike my mother, I can physically assist him if he needs help. I’m in a good location, near a hospital, near the Portland metro area, near relatives and friends. My house is one level and except for one step at the main entrance, wheelchair accessible with an open floorplan. Of course there will be changes to my lifestyle: Grandpa expects meals at regular times (so no more afternoon breakfasts for me); he won’t like my TV programs; it’ll be difficult to leave him alone for too long, so I won’t be able to go away without arranging for a substitute sitter. But overall, I like the idea. Grandpa and I get alone well, he told me he’d like to be here over being in a care facility, and he sleeps most of the time, so I don’t think he’ll be that much of a burden. Besides, he raised me half my childhood, so this is payback, right?

It looks like we’re closer to making a decision about Grandpa. He’s definitely not coming home: there’s just no way. My mom isn’t physically able to care for him there and it’s just too dangerous. If he falls or struggles, all she can do is call 911. He’s also isolated from the family way over on the coast. We think it’s best he be put in a care facility in the Portland area where we can all visit him regularly and be available if he needs us. This means a lot of changes in the near future for everyone, but at least now we have a clear idea of where we’re going. We could try to come up with ways to keep Grandpa at home (i.e. having one of my cousins move in), but such things would be difficult to engineer and only temporary fixes. Unfortunately, the time we’ve dreaded is at hand, and we can’t care for him ourselves any longer. Even if he can regain some of his walking ability, it most likely won’t be for long (he has a bad knee and hip), and he needs 24-hour care in case he falls or has a problem. I mostly worry about his own attitude: he does not want to be in a facility and he could simply give up if he’s put in one, but I hope he doesn’t. His general health is good and if has a positive attitude he could have many years left. It’s just sad to see him fade away. His short-term memory isn’t good and I dread the thought of his mind fading to the point where he can’t recognize family, etc.

Today was not a good day. The family had come to the uncomfortable decision that Grandpa most likely will not be able to come home, though we might still try to figure out a way (we’re still not sure how well Grandpa is or isn’t). After half a day of analyzing finances and trying to predict the future, my mom visited Grandpa (I was in bed with my cold) and found that he still can’t really walk (though he thinks he can), and that he’s got to be out of the care facility where he’s at by this Sunday. It was evening by the time my mother was to go home so I suggested she stay at my place rather than drive home in the cold and dark, and she agreed. She telephoned her friend that’s been watching Monica, her little crippled Pomeranian, and learned — what timing! — that Monica passed away yesterday at about three o’clock. My mom was devastated. Though the news wasn’t completely unexpected as the dog’s always been weak and over Christmas got so bad that she could no longer walk, it was still very difficult news to hear. In a way it was crueler that it happened while we were gone but it another way it was a blessing that she didn’t have to deal with it directly. Still, the timing, with Grandpa’s situation foremost in our minds, could not have been worse. My mom’s gone through a lot the past few years: Ben’s brain injury and personality change, the divorce, moving to Oregon, her own diagnosis and struggle with rheumetoid arthrisis, the dog’s medical issues, and various emergencies with Grandpa, and Monica was her sole constant and comfort during that time. Now she’s gone. It’s a tough time.

Strange the way things happen. While I was visiting, Grandpa was doing fine, until the day I left (yesterday). Then suddenly he could hardly walk. He slid off the sofa and couldn’t get up — I had to help him to his feet. Later it took him an hour to get from the living room to the bathroom. After I left my mom had to call 911 because she couldn’t move him, and he ended up in the hospital with a touch of pnemonia. Now it looks like he’ll end up in nursing care while we take our trip to the mid-west early next year.