Last evening I posted on visiting dad, while, also, dealing with mom’s frustrations with how things were going. Well, today we walked back into dad’s room, late. We were late because of a heavy snow flurry last night. Mom didn’t want to drive on snow packed or icy roads, so we waited till late in the morning and then headed down. Those roads proved to be fine, thanks to her choice to wait. As we walked into his room, we found dad in his wheelchair sound a sleep. I then knew that he’d been given additional Seroquel the evening before.
Now, he won’t always be sleeping, like this, from an evening dose of 100mg., but for the next week or two this 83 year old man will be markedly more sedate. Once he was awakened mom had a man to take care of who was decidedly more hospitable.
For a little while, I went back across the highway and had coffee and watched people living lives I remember for 30 or so years ago. When I say I went back across the highway, keep in mind there are no crosswalks nor any stoplights. The north-south state highway 25 has stop signs and the east-west highway 34 flows freely. Most of the time, there is no one coming from any direction, for a minute or two. It is the 18 wheelers and pickups that are the most numerous with a healthy supply of cars whizzing by most of the day. I, always, bide my time near the intersection, waiting that minute or so before taking a brisk walk across to Trails West.
Mom is still anxious about how things are not working, just as she expects, but I know she’s more relaxed about her husband renewed docility. Kind of sitting on the sidelines of things I used to have my fingers, even now 17 years ago, is proving hard on me. I’ll just have to at keep working my way through another of those unexpected things about myself.