We Got a Situation

To: Doug, Dierdre, Benny, and Rudy
From: Annabelle
Date: 10/28/19
Re: a bit more help on everyone’s part

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I have just come off another weekend with Mom and Dad and have a few observations. First of all, instead of lifting up all the area and Oriental rugs in the house, Dad added three new ones to the kitchen – the only room that prior had no rugs. I spent a good deal of Saturday trying to unwind carpet fringe from Dad’s Hoveround axle.

While Dad has left Mom to take her pills on the honor system, I’ve discovered she has been throwing them over her shoulder like an Italian cook tossing salt for good luck. As a result, her dementia – likely due to lack of Aricept over the last eight weeks based on the number of pills I plucked from quilted layers of carpet dust behind the sofa – has narrowed her conversation to four repeating questions: “How are you?”; “Can I get you anything?”; “Would you like a Babybel cheese?”; and “Where did you get those cute socks?”

Meals are a disaster. Dad is trying to cook, but given his frozen shoulder and cloudy eyes, breakfasts consist of bacon with the pliability of dried decorative branches, fried egg shells, and eggs. Lunches seem to be leftover from dinners the night before, which sit on the stovetop overnight. Dinners are Trader Joe’s frozen potstickers mixed with a bag of Trader Joe’s frozen risotto fried together in saved bacon grease. So, basically they have that meal for lunch and dinner.

Dad is managing to break carrots and celery into sticks. I’m thankful he realizes he should steer clear of knives, though not sure the house has had a knife sharpened in the last 13 years. He doesn’t wash these sticks, but at least he’s trying to get some fiber and vitamins in his and Mom’s diet. Rudy, can you maybe start dropping off dinners from the restaurant so Dad doesn’t have to cook? You would just have to run them up – or have an employee run them up – from downtown since you’re at the restaurant every day. Circle back with me, Ok?

Mom complains about everything Dad puts in front of her – everything, I should say, except for the white-wine spritzers he makes her with Diet 7UP. He says he’s trying to minimize her alcohol consumption because it heightens her confusion and hostility. I did witness three angry outbursts from Mom. She screamed “Get out of the way!” at a porcelain face vase and backhanded it out of her view of the Rachel Ray show. She pounded on a window and shrieked an incomprehensible string of syllables at a squirrel running by on the fence with a kumquat in his mouth. She hurled a potsticker at Dad, which hit him in the cheek, because he was chewing too loudly. The butterfly Band-aid covering his excised, facial, squamous cells seems to be giving him trouble now.

Dad is still trying to clean the swimming pool. I’m sure I don’t need to say that this seems extraordinarily dangerous given his physical limitations. Doug, any chance you could take on the task of sweeping the pool and netting the leaves once a week? Dad would just as soon close the pool, but he says he likes to keep it going for the grandkids. Since your family is the only one using the pool anymore, and you’re there swimming every weekend, perhaps you could help out. Maybe check the chemicals, too? LMK.

I think the Karrases are losing patience. Friday, Demetrios saw me in the driveway and came over to tell me that he and Kalliope get that Mom and Dad are on a fixed income and probably want to keep utility costs down, but that having mom and dad’s laundry drying on a line outside has become intolerable. Dad is doing the wash these days and apparently isn’t pre-treating their underwear, and since the line – which is actually a bungee cord strung between two downspouts – runs right in front of the Karrases’ dining-room windows, they can no longer have guests over to eat.

Benny, remember how you said you’d change the washer in the downstairs bathroom sink? It still seems to be broken. Dad has had the water shut off now to the sink for six weeks, so they continue to have no fresh water to brush their teeth or wash. (Maybe they’re using the kitchen???) You’ll all recall we’re trying to keep Mom and Dad from having any excuse to go upstairs, so them having a fully working bathroom downstairs would be great. I stacked some heavy boxes at the bottom of the stairs, so they can’t get by for now. I filled the boxes with seventies-era sex manuals and self-help books I found in their old bedroom, but Dad will probably manage to get the tape off the top of the boxes in a few days and unpack them again.

Mom’s hip seems to be healing though I can’t say for sure, as I did not see her get up from the sofa for two days. Does anyone know if she wears a diaper? I couldn’t bring myself to ask, but something is up. There’s a strong urine smell. Dierdre, you’re the nurse. What do you think? If you go by, maybe you could check Dad’s cheek bandages, too?

Guys, I’m doing my best. I wish I could do more, but I live 200 miles away and have three small kids as you know. Ronald’s okay with my coming up and staying with Mom and Dad every other weekend, but with his cancer treatments it does get rough on him and the family. I have some flexibility with work, but I could get more done at Mom and Dad’s if someone would make an appointment and wait for the cable company to fix the Wi-Fi. Whenever I go, I could catch up on my research and legal briefs if I had Internet access, but I feel guilty while I’m up there leaving them and going to the law library to get work done. I have a trial in three weeks. Putting bad guys in jail (thumbs up!).

Ok, well, hope everyone’s good. Let me know your thoughts.

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Image

“Box Fort on Fire” – photo by Stephen Sharer. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0J6hzPoxJow