My dad seems to be recovering from his procedure well. He is moving around better, and my mom said he’s driving again. We’ve had “the talk” about dad’s driving, and my mom keeps an eye on him. He’s limited himself to driving only during the daylight, and only on certain routes that he knows well. Neither of my parents go beyond a 10-mile radius from the house to do their shopping, visits to doctors, etc. I’m glad they realize their limitations, but its not easy on either of them.
When I was home over Christmas, my dad was going through his medications, setting up his pill box for the coming week:
Me: Dad. Make sure you don’t drop any of the pills ok? We don’t want any of the dogs snarfing them up.
Dad: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know.
Dad: Help me pick the pills off the floor, will ‘ya?
Me: DAAD! Why can’t you do this at the kitchen table where you can spread everything out instead of balancing everything on your lap?
Dad: Shut up and help me will you?
[ I shut up and helped him locate a couple of pills he dropped.]
Dad: Hey, what is this pill for anyway?
Me: What’s the name on the bottle?
Me: [about to say “Its for your Alzheimers ..” but my mom catches my eye and shakes her head slightly …]
Me: That’s to help you with your memory.
Dad: Oh, yeah. I forgot.
[Looking over at my dad …. he turns to me … wiggles his eyebrows and pulls a funny face. Realizing he made a joke gets us all laughing. ]