It's 340 in the morning yup 340 am and I am on the mission to corral Pop back into bed he's like a jack in the box he "pops" up with no rhyme or reason. Turning on his bedside flashlight and coming down the hall to see if anyone is standing outside. For those of you who are having a hard time visualizing this well I'll keep it "cute" :



Let me make it clear that I am not making fun of him in this state but I have to find some humor or I'll crack up.

He can be redirected into bed easily enough but nights like this make for REALLY long days. He's up and down..up and down ...up and down. It's a total nervous behavior. Big Sis is suppose to come up today and take over sometime. I really hope sooner rather than later because well this up and down behavior is a bit concerning.

I gave him some more "calming" medicine but it's had little to no effect on him. I got him to sit in his chair and watch a rerun of a base ballgame. But it's gonna be like this for the rest of the night. So starts another day...

No field trip the other day. Constipation ruled the morning, Pop felt disinclined to go out after that. Although I was relieved at this turn of events I was sorry he had to be uncomfortable enough to cancel. His Brother and Sister came by instead. His sister made his fave "Butter Beans" which is exactly what a constipated person needs (insert rueful laugh). I'm not going to deny him any food but man he really likes the starches sometimes. Especially with "chow chow" out west peeps don't ask me because I don't understand it either...it's like a relish.

Anyways much later he had a bowel movement and his room smells like..well farts.

I honestly thought him going into hospice care was going to make things a bit easier, funny to me it's made the situation a bit harder. Go figure.

I SWEAR I own some bicycles and I do ride them!

Oh there he goes again, thanks for reading.

Today dear friends and readers is going to be an exercise in patience. More on today's field with Pop trip in a moment.

I openly admit I have very little of it lately. It wears a bit on the thin side when Big Sis and I are not allowed to get outside help. Stubborn stupid pride is the enemy. Mom's Monday trip to the doctor went sideways of course. I officially give up on that front.

After many hours and many months of trying to convince Mom that it would be an INCREDIBLY BAD IDEA for her to take a taxi to doctors appointments because of safety issues (being robbed and falls) Big Sis and I decided to let her do what she wants because we just don't have the man power and time to shuttle her around on her often last minute flights of fancy concerning doctors and meds. She won't even accept help from a long time friend of hers. I TRIED really honestly tried to reason with her. I put on my patience cap and did my very very best. All for naught. My reasoning is sound she gets hurt then we will have 2 sick parents to worry with and it will double our load. If she gets into trouble then we will have to load Pop up and come help her. We simply cannot leave Pop alone because he hallucinates ALL day. We are barely medicating him. We cannot have a volunteer come and sit with Pop and take Mom to appointments because she changes them on a whim. Having a family friend or hospice volunteer come over takes planning.

She of course does not see it this way. It's about her and what she wants not what's best for everyone involved. I'll give a small example outside of this current episode. One of Pop's dying wishes over the years is to be buried in his old public service uniform. He worked for over 35 years and it's a HUGE part of his identity. He has told Mom, me and Big Sis over and over again through the years this dying wish. Mom wants him buried in a suit that when ever he wore one he looked very uncomfortable in. She has tried time and time again to talk him out of his uniform burial. She has even alluded to me that she is going to put him in a suit for the funeral anyways. This of course is a source of ongoing tension. I told Big Sis I have no compunction about rolling up into the funeral home and personally changing Pop out of the suit into his public service uniform. It would make a helluva scene and a pretty great morbid story. In my opinion people should get their dying wish it's clothes for heavens sake.

Hopefully you all understand what we are up against here.

So Mom's pride makes the stress level go up and makes the work load go up more on the rest of us. I hate to say this but when something fucks up on her excursions I am going to be the first to say "I told you so!" She also says after Pop kicks off that she is going to buy a car and drive herself around (she chooses to ignore the fact that she is on a fentanyl patch all the time so she'd be driving under the influence of a narcotic). Again go ahead but she wants her independence then she'll have it all the way. The years of Pop going out to dealerships test driving cars and bringing them by the house for her to approve of are over. Car shop she says? Well Mom you like the taxi idea so much, get a taxi and go by the dealership, pick out a car and negotiate. Good Luck!

Big sis says Mom is trying to get a feel for things for after Pop dies, since she relied on him for so long. Great, I say she picked a helluva time to start figuring this shit out. No time like the present I suppose.

Field trips...

Pop dropped on me last night his plans on meeting his Brother and sister for lunch today at a local comfort food/home cooking restaurant institution I'll call it "Annette and Williams" Local friends know this place well. He LOVES this place. I detest it, if it was not for him I'd never step foot into this rude grease pit. Yes, it's a local small business but every experience I've had there over the years has been lacking in pleasantness shall we say.

This particular field trip has the added element of Pop's hallucinations coming to lunch as well. His hallucinations are him talking to people who are not there (Like Middle Sister who lives out west still) Being convinced there are people in the living room and talking to old friends who died years ago. He's easily redirected but I feel like I really cannot trust his judgement at all. It's a step up from him trying to leave the house to go to work. Try stopping a guy who LOVED his job from leaving the house to go to a job he retired from over a decade ago, you'll have a fight on your hands. Needless to say I have been reluctant to get him out in public because of his unpredictability at times. What do you do? Say no to a dying fathers request to see family he has just recently reconnected with?

It's gonna be a challenge.

Pop was VERY upset with me last night because I changed shower heads to something with a hose so he could shower and not stand on one foot while rinsing. I did this when he was having his major delusions and he was so drugged he could barely stand. "It leaks all over the damn place." Not really but only when the shower is on and only because I was rushing to put the thing on so quickly I didn't use plumbers tape. I get frustrated with this kind of ear beating because I actually give a fuck and I'm doing my best. Mom told me last night I was not allowed to be frustrated. Being told that I'm not allowed to be frustrated by a parent at my middle age is highly aggravating.

To Mom's credit she does better with Pop than I do when he gets into these moods. She chills his ass out and can reason with him. Which oddly enough no one can do with her. I'm still frustrated for a multitude of reasons that I am just now starting to realize that I don't even understand myself.

Isn't this blog suppose to be about cycling?

"When all you got is potatoes make vodka."

Pop is going to be getting up soon so I gotta bail. Thanks for reading.

I recently ran across this:



It reminded me of a time before smart phone sound boards and how an innocent 5 dollar purchase in a convenience store can give months of enjoyment.

Back when I worked on the ambulance I was posted at some convenience store and saw this little gem at the counter while buying some incredibly unhealthy food:



Naturally it made it onto the dash or console of the ambulance and was used liberally whenever phone reports were given or just the right patient was in the box. I admit often I was the only one that found it funny.

This little gem has been lost to the sands of time and to a degree outdated since smart phones have such wonderful sound boards. It's a wonderful memory though.

Thanks for reading.

Over the last 48 hours I have gotten more sleep than I did in the past week. No shit, not a stretch of the truth no fucking lie. Big Sis is up at the parents to give me a break. Pop's confusion is still very apparent but his agitation has subsided. I find his agitation always scary.

I was able to break away last night to get beers with a couple of work friends but I cut it short and headed back after a few hours. I did finish several online EMT refresher modules. I even went into the woods at Big Sis's place and sent some .22 rounds down range at some rather threatening gatorade and pepsi bottles. I was even able to have a long shower and shave! I have a work day coming up but that has me stressed.

Some how the fates always seem to conspire against me as of late concerning those two (that's right 2) days a month. I really need to get some quality sleep on that day, not one eye open paranoid kind of sleep I get at the parents now. I need this sleep so I am mentally sharp and don't get injured or killed on the job. Much less kill someone due to my sleepy nature.

This weeks episode is getting Mom to her primary doc to get her meds refilled. Her primary doc is five minutes from the house. We are at the point now where we cannot leave Pop by himself at the house. Knowing this we decided to use a hospice volunteer but I thought better to use a family friend to do this errand. Besides Mom would not get all hinkey at the idea and would get to spend time with her old friend and hair dresser who volunteered her services.

I thought this would pose no problem, easy fix. Once again I was wrong. Despite getting Mom's hairdresser/friend and Big Sis in touch, Big Sis calls me today and asks when I'm coming up on Monday. I told her I plan on staying up late at her place doing some EMT modules sleeping into the afternoon then driving up to pick up my work bag and going into the job.

I have learned when Big Sis asks the "What time are you coming up?" question something is gonna be sideways. It has and it did. Mom insists on going in on Monday, great it works out best for hairdresser/friend. No Big Sis wants to take Mom into the docs office and have me come up early stay with Pop robbing me out of sleep. Despite having a willing and able friend to help out. There is a mention of an appointment being made. I say fine call early and make the appointment that day or just do a walk in and EXPLAIN the situation. People tend to listen when you say a loved one is dying.

I really am frustrated to the nth degree with the Monday situations. Somehow no matter how hard I try every Monday I have to work I get the call "So, when are you coming back up?" I work 2 days a month.

This friends and readers is a fundamental misunderstanding of night shift work. I can and have stayed up on work nights to do necessary stuff but once you're in sleep deficit you are in a hole. With Pop's condition I can only count on 3-4 hours of light sleep. Now imagine being up for 24 hrs plus straight coming back and not getting more than a couple hours of sleep after a routinely busy shift. Then not seeing the plus side of sleep for days maybe weeks afterwards.

A phone call or two later I think I have the situation resolved.

Honestly, I expect it for it to be even more screwed up tomorrow when I wake up than it is now because an outside person is involved despite the intimate knowledge she has of the family, her long friendship with Mom and despite everyone's good intentions.

That's when Mom, Big Sis and I are going to have a long conversation.

I'll lay it out there for everyone. We have made it a point to cut back on heavily medicating Pop in hopes of cutting out the hallucinations, delusions and confusion.
The insane delusions and hallucinations have dialed back some. The confusion pretty much remains. This means a couple of things. Like the hospice folks have been telling us mets has gotten to Pop's brain and is causing this or his liver is not detoxing properly which maybe causing these probs. If his liver is going out on him it's only a matter of time. Either way Pop at best might make it to the end of the year is my opinion. I'd feel lucky to have him past his birthday in July.

His appetite has fallen off and bowel movements have decreased, nausea and vomiting for no real reason has started up. Despite not heavily medicating him anymore he sleeps a great deal and is exhausted after being out of bed for a few minutes all this combined with his declining mental status gives my old sixth sense a bad tingle.

It just seems like everyone is turtling up a bit and when it gets to be a bit much I get the call "When are you gonna be back?" I need my time to for a few days then I can hang for another few weeks.

It's all started to bring out my real ugly side to my family. I don't want to jump down their throats but I have come VERY close to it a few times. I've growled but not had a complete shit fit. I've been very very close though. It's always over this same issue. I get called "Grizzly" at work for a couple of reasons one it's for the huge beard the second I can be a real "bear" sometimes.

If I don't get enough good sleep then my ability to give good care to Pop is decreased which in turn increases his suffering. I cannot have nearly everything thrown onto me especially when I am not at the house for a couple of days. I set up something go with it, please.

Tonight I feel like these guys in Japan:



I'm just pushing people to do ANYTHING. From hospice with a silly bed alarm (still have not gotten it yet) and begging the local med supply store to fix and sell me a used bed alarm to having family agree with the plan to get Mom to the doc for meds. Getting the grief counselor out to talk to Mom (despite Mom talking her way out of it with Big Sis) and getting Big Sis to get the social worker out to do a DNR, to me calling up a local funeral home to make an appointment to plan the funeral for Pop in advance just so I know it will get done in a timely manner.

I've been told I'm not doing it all but some moments I certainly feel like it. If not then I feel like I have to facilitate and push things forward in most cases. I don't give gentle pushes either. I cannot remember hearing recently "Don't sweat it I got it covered I will handle it and see it through."

I am trying very hard not to have the E.D./EMS attitude. Which I know so well as "I don't give a FUCK if you hate me later you WILL do this NOW because life and limb are at stake." That attitude does incinerate bridges quite well and leaves little to no room for hugging and making up later. Which in the work life is acceptable, in family life cannot be tolerated especially when a parent is dying. What choice do I have what can I do?

I don't want it to get to that point with family but I sense it is getting to that point to a degree.

I hear Pop's death clock ticking louder and louder every moment of everyday. It maddens me that others might be ignoring or unaware that the time is truly finite and the last few grains of sand are all that are left for our beloved father.

I had thought that if this were apparent that the bullshit would drop. It seems to me that more and more it's the opposite. It hurts a great deal because I thought we were drawing closer in spite of Pop's death instead I see an insidious side of death that I have not experienced before. One that drives a wedge between everyone and creates painful wounds that will never heal.

I'm working at it. I'm working at it real hard as hard if not harder than anything I have in my entire life. I am at best a weak Buddhist, I catch myself in my few quiet moments praying to the White Tara (bodhisattva of compassion, healing and serenity. It's one of the two necklaces I wear around my neck) to give me a hand here to reduce everyone's suffering especially Pop's. It works sometimes. I recall that that often the answer to prayer is usually no despite the religion of your choice. I cannot remember the last time I brought up my religious beliefs here that's how desperate I am right now.

I hope when I get up in the afternoon I don't have a fucked up voice mail or get a screwy story when I drop by to get my work bag. I just hope and pray to hear that Pop had a good day and that the plan of getting Mom to her doc and getting her scripts went without a hitch. I really, really do because if it does not then I am afraid I will lose all hope.

I feel if I lose all hope then all of this fragile house of cards will collapse. If I lose hope then I am lost again. I remember last time I was lost and it was horrible.

Thanks for reading.

I can only write for a few minutes. Pop's delirium ran rampant last night. It's been a real challenge here the last 24 hrs. I admit the lack of sleep, Pop's inconsistent moods and constant stress has made me a bit short at times.

Mom continues to confound us. She tried to cancel the grief counselor from coming out to the house. I think we got that straightened out though. We have to press forward with end of life planning. We are getting the social worker out here to see about other alternatives and a DNR for Pop. He's SO out of it that he cannot sign a DNR but we have to make this real for Mom. Despite all the problems out of Pop lately she continues to stick her head in the sand thinking he's going to snap out of this delirium. I want him his semi-normal self and I'm working hard to figure this out but part of me thinks this the path we are going to have to follow.

Big sis and I are pushing funeral planning forward. I have a sense of urgency about this right now. It's something I don't need to ignore. Alright I need to do a few things while Pop is asleep so I gotta bail, Thanks for reading.

I saw this and laughed until my sides hurt. Thanks for reading.

Need lees to say it's been a long hard weekend. Lots of hallucinations from Pop this weekend, We had him so drugged on anti-psychotics that he was only able to walk with assistance. The biggest challenge was keeping him in bed. Since he is an old blue collar type he would get it in his head that something needed to be fixed and he'd get up to fix it. Needless to say a hallucinating guy with a hammer or a pair of pliers in his hand can be scary for a moment. We have had to go through Pop's room and try to find all the tools he has squirreled away and anything resembling a tool.

So what do you do with an elderly guy who has this problem. First solution that popped in to my head was a bed alarm. Bed alarms for those of you who do not know are simple devices. Put it under a sheet on the bed the patients gets off the alarm pad an audible tone is made and you come swooping into the room before said patient crashes to the floor. Hospice says we are on the list for one.

We were tempted to buy one but we have gotten a couple of stop gaps just in case. The first is what I call the audible "Daddy monitor". It's a baby monitor so we can listen to what's going on in the room problem is that Pop is like a ninja. He hardly makes a noise when he gets outta bed. It works OK, we'll keep them around because it's an easy way to communicate throughout the house when there is drama going on.

The next is "Daddy TV". Once again we have taken infant monitoring technology and used it to our advantage. It's a wireless camera with a black and white monitor for watching Pop. NOW we can see him move and swoop into the room and defeat his ninja like skills at getting outta bed. I have to admit I was reluctant to buy this setup because I felt creepy watching Pop sleep but I got over it after thinking about being hard headed and not bending to the situation. Also, watching him on a TV screen is way less creepy than inserting a suppository into his rectum, which when I think about now still gives me the hee-bee-geebies. Now I'm rather proud of "Daddy TV"

Mom has gotten better but has voiced her opinion many many many times over her dislike of the anti-psychotics effect on Pop's ambulation and what she feels is a violation of his privacy with "Daddy TV" She has helped watch him and we have given her an extra audible Daddy monitor to help out watch out for Pop's random attempts to get up and then promptly fall. Big Sis and I have also moved some furniture around because it's a pain in the ass to get around certain items of furniture with a stumbling uncoordinated father that you need to ambulate. This has displeased Mom, we explained to her this is going to be the progression of things and over the next few weeks things are going to have to happen that she has avoided like doing a DNR. I do tip my cap to them for going through the trouble of buying graves, I shrug my shoulders in confusion and frustration when I learned funeral arrangements were not made at the same time. big Sis and I are encouraging Mom to go ahead and do it now before everyone is all upset over pop dying when clear headed thinking might not be so readily available. A very strong word of advice to everyone MAKE SURE ALL DNR'S FUNERAL ARRANGEMENTS AND GRAVE SITES ARE TAKEN CARE OF WAY IN ADVANCE. It will save you some drama later on down the road.

New meds were delivered to the house in hopes of getting what Big Sis and I feel is another narcotic induced delirium. We stopped the narcs and are barking up a different tree now. I REALLY hope the hallucinations decrease and disappear totally. The hospice folks are really beating the drum on his behavior being brain mets. I'm not so quick to believe them until we have exhausted the med route. They are working hard to accommodate the constant med changes. I have not ruled out brain mets but his behavior is exactly like his delirium before it's hard not to think differently. If this round of meds does not get things back on track in the next several days I would more readily accept brain mets as a reason for this behavior.

Needless to say I am VERY paranoid about Pop getting outta bed so I will set up camp in his room and sleep in his easy chair tonight. Besides I don't want him getting away from me to get out the front door. BIL is supposed to come by tomorrow and instal the dead bolt and put in grounded sockets in a couple of places so we can plug in modern grounded sockets.

Well I have written long enough and need to get some food into me. Oh and one more thing, today is my birthday, what a way to spend it. Thanks for reading.

Yeah and I don't particularly don't like the beat to it either. It's been a day long struggle in the house. The delirium of narcotics has returned. It has been a bit trying at times but not as bad as back in the hospital a few months ago. The hospice folks are shaking their heads at this turn and are encouraging in a liberal use of medications to combat this problem.

Big sis and I decided to see this through until Monday then we will insist on him going into hospice to reassess in a safer environment. Pop FINALLY got to sleep at around 8pm earlier, he's been asleep for ummmm almost 6 hrs now. We have noticed that Pop LOVES going out the front door. So we need a keyed dead bolt so he cannot get out so easily or thieves in for that matter. We have put Mom's precious embroidered chair and a few other living room items in front of the door to hamper Pop's attempts to get outside. If he does in a delirious state we'll truly have our hands full.

Pop is classically delirious, the difference between last time and now is that we have meds to combat this problem. Both Big Sis and I need to learn patience with meds. Again my work experience works against me. We need a bed alarm for him but a miscommunication between all of us and hospice not having one left us in want of one until Monday.

Mom has been a small distraction. She means well but her hovering over Pop and constant circle talk exacerbates the situation. I know if we cut down on the stimuli to Pop he will sleep. Problem is getting him to that point. On Mom's part there has been crying and multiple retellings of when one of when one of our white trash aunts died of liver cancer. Mom means well, she is now getting a taste of the road ahead. We might have a better time of getting her grief counseling and pre-planning Pop's funeral now. Our time is short for such things the sooner the better is our thoughts on this matter.

Big sis has stepped up despite friction between us lately. I called her Friday after I had been up over 30 hrs. Despite working she stopped and bailed out of her job and got up here pronto. Because of that and after the Hospice nurse left I was able to get 4 hours of sleep after being up for about 34 hrs straight. She's staying through the weekend and asleep up front now.

Ok, I have to get up and get some food in me and check on Pop for the millionth time. Thanks for reading.

I've been a total pussy lately.

Seriously I have been.

So much so that I have been tempted to revoke my own "man card"

Since April 29th I have been letting alot of sand get up my ass lately because of circumstances of this situation. I have decided to "Harden the fuck up."

Instead of sitting down and crying like a little girl over the situation and being frustrated well...let's just say I'm gonna do things a bit differently. I remembered a video I had posted here awhile back I think it bears posting again:



I also ran across this today as well:



I'm taking a bit more of a "manly" view on the "When all you have is lemons make lemonade" pussy ass saying.

Here it is check it:

"When all you got is potatoes...make vodka."

Maybe I read that shit somewhere and remembered it but I like it use it as needed. Now if you pardon me I got shit to do.

Thanks for reading.

P.S. Up very late tonight it seems like this latest round of pain meds has made Pop hallucinate again. I'll talk to him when he gets up in the morning and see what he has to say and talk to hospice in the morning. Part of me wants just to say he got up and was a little turned around confused between the dream world and the waking world. Honestly, I just don't know. 0300/3am Pop just got up for the second or third time tonight with these hallucinations just as I was typing this. No fucking way am I putting my head on the pillow tonight! Hello caffeine and 5 hour energy drinks!

Yesterday was a banner day in the house. The hospice admit nurse arrived at the house to get Pop started down the road to hospice. She started off in the plus column with me because she was EARLY. Those of you close to me know that I dislike being late in general and in the professional realm I despise it. It's a HUGE pet peeve of mine. I could go on and on about being prompt and early

She arrives and is an excellent representative of the hospice she works for she takes the time to slowly explain things to my parents. You can tell she is used to working with the elderly. We go over EVERYTHING. DNR's, meds what the procedures are etc. I have to tell you it was a GIGANTIC weight off of my shoulders. The meds got realigned some in Pop's favor. We finally got long acting morphine and it looks like all the NISAIDS are going away pretty much which is a huge relief for me because that means I don't have to scratch around and figure out how to knock down cancer pain with NSAIDS and a handful of prescription meds with liquid morphine that wears off after 3 hrs now.

Big sis and I talked for a bit after the hospice nurse left. I think we worked out the tension between us. There has been some on my end at least because of what i wrote about before. We were both in agreement that hospice is a big relief. The hope is that the long acting Morphine will do it's job and it will possibly free up some personal time to enjoy families and get back into school.

Our fingers are crossed.

It looks to be a beautiful day outside and I want to get into the back yard to turn some wrenches on the bikes. Besides the hospice nurse is suppose to swing by for a follow up visit.

Thanks for reading.