I haven’t been able to do much of anything these last few months.
In my last post I mentioned what I was going through with my Dad and his health.
On January 11th my Hero and Dad passed away. It was also my 46th birthday.
I’m not even sure what was put as his official cause of death. I had so many questions that no one was in a hurry to answer. My sister didn’t question any of it. I have to be extremely careful with what I say now. If not I’m accused of being “paranoid” or “imagining things”. I also have to be careful not to cry too much and make a “scene”.
I kept my Dad home with me for as long as I physically and in good conscious could. When he refused to go to dialysis one morning, all I could do was beg him or bribe him. Soon it didn’t matter, he would hide under his blanket and like a child pretended he was invisible.
He was also falling more. I wasn’t going to restrain him, he had the right to walk around his own house. We made the downstairs completely his and as safe as possible. I just couldn’t be up all day and night. I would feel so guilty when he would get confused and think it was time for dialysis. It would be 2:30 in the morning when I would hear a thud and immediately know he had fallen.
The weight loss was disturbing in itself. How many times can you call the same doctors? The other problem was my Dad had only given my name as someone information could be given to for a few places. This would turn into bigger problems.
My Dad never did a Will or put someone else with him on his bank accounts. He did no End of Life Planning at all. There’s so much to do and go through there isn’t a time when I don’t feel nauseous. And lucky me the dry heaves are back in full force.
I know I’m sick. I kept putting things off to take care of and be with my Dad. My kidney stents should’ve been changed in November. I’m losing weight again, my vision has changed for the worse, and last but not least I’m having auditory hallucinations. I keep hearing voices outside, bottles being thrown in a recycling bin, car doors, and voices of family members coming to visit (ha). It could be anything so I’m not panicking yet.
My twin isn’t making any of this easier. I’m scared. I don’t know what to do. Her suggestion for everything is that I go to an intensive treatment facility for mental health and addiction. She said we can’t have a relationship unless I do. She also called me a “manipulative bitch” and a “dry drunk”.
In all the years I’ve been sober no one has ever called me a dry drunk or manipulative.
Enough about all that.
My Dad was the best anyone could’ve asked for in a Father. He had his faults but was always there for his family. He went from a 30 year old man who never said “I love you” or showed affection to a man who hugged me and told me he loved me almost every day.
He loved my Mom so much I don’t think he ever got past her death.
The night before he died he was unresponsive and so small in the hospital bed. I got behind him so I could hold him and he could hear me.
“It’s okay Dad. I’ll be okay. You can let go now. I love you more than anything but there’s somewhere else you need to be. So get in your boat and find her.”
His foot arched back and he opened one eye to look at me briefly, he sighed and was out again.
He was ready.