My Dad Showed Up On Our Doorstep

I received a package from the Alzheimer's society last week, with plenty of great information.  I urge anyone going thru this to contact them and or go down and pick up all the stuff.  Trying to read a lot of this in front of him isn't really do-able.  Between work and home I don't have any time for anything.  I keep thinking I really need to plan one thing a week to look forward to.   As I already suffer from a variety of anxiety, depression and ADHD, this whole situation is magnifying it even more.   Dad has a weekly or bi-weekly fixation.  This week it's getting a job, last week the same thing.  When we were selling his car that was the fixation.  It's honestly hard to keep up with it somedays.  I'm banging my head against the wall.  I'm happy that I am slowly building a support network, people who call and talk to him and give us a break, people who pick him up.  That gives us an hour here or 15 minutes there to attempt to relax.  Yesterday we went out f

A little while ago, Dad came home quite upset.  He believed his wallet had been stolen at the local bar.  He couldn't tell me if he was able to pay his bill.  He also told me a variety of versions of the event.  When he went back there the next day the waitress refused to serve him because "They don't legally serve people over 70".  Which was a bunch of BS.  My guess is that he made a fuss and was no longer allowed in there. It's a bit of a blessing in disguise as it's a grimy north end bar.   The issue was his debit/credit etc was all missing.  We stopped the visa card, got him a new debit (which he has now changed the pin code multiple times).  He can't use his old code, and can't remember any of the new ones.  I'm hoping to be able to see his bank and get me access to his account as well.  That's later this week. Thankfully we found most of his wallet possessions in a park close by.  I still don't know what exactly happened at the bar, o

My Dad is an emotional guy, likely because of his Irish roots.  I am as well, although I don't cry that often.  My guess is because I've got a bit of stubborn Scottish in me as well.  Latetly I've cried a lot more.  Sometime it's little things, sometimes it's big things.  Like noticing day to day changes, helping him with things we've already talked about.   Confusion about events is one of those growing concerns.  What I find odd though, is he won't remember something we talked about yesterday, yet he will remember a fun event from a week ago?   Couple months back, possibly sometime in april maybe Dad woke up in the morning and he wasn't doing well.  I can tell when he's upset, I've lived with him for the better part of my life.   I asked him what was wrong, and he just started crying.  He said that he couldn't remember our names, that he had no idea who we are, but that he knows that we care for him and are taking care of him.   This broke

 I'm going to back track to the past few months and things that happened as time goes on.  While things are fresh I'll talk about them. The struggle to get a health card has taken months.  We got one rejection, and I've sent out more inquiries in hopes of moving forward.  I was told by the local health authorities that in order to get a diagnosis I need the card. Rock and a fucking hard place. While on vacation we spoke with our neighbor who suggested we goto emergency. Considering we are at our wits end, it seemed like a exemplary plan. We lie tell him we are going because of his sore knee and bad hearing. Eta on waiting was 13 hours.  He was ansy 35 minutes in.  There was no way it was going to work. Nurse triaged and confirmed dementia, him beating around the bush when asked questions.  He's sneaky.  Unfortunately confirmed during triage means nothing.  There was a strong likelihood of we stayed they would have admitted him to the psych ward. My wife called his docto

 The first thing I did was started making a list of things I needed to do.  First thing was to get a power of attorney, which we were able to do fairly quickly. Selling the condo was the next on the list.  By the time he got here, there was an offer on the table.  Unfortunately it wasn't amazing but it was one less thing to worry about.   Lots of random zoom calls to finish paperwork and sending over signed documents via Purolator. Before the move in date I had to deal with the real estate agent and what to do with the leftovers in his place.  His favorite lazy boy (which he's forgotten about).  I paid a bunch of money to get his cowboy boots shipped to us.   He was only able to bring so much in the back of his car. Back to the list.  CRA, will, banking, change of address, forward mail, it goes on.  Thankfully I've got a lot checked off.  But there are still things outstanding. I started looking at places and booked a tour of an old folks home.  This place was amazing, it w

I knew my Dad was having some issues every time I talked to him.  It got to the point where I was worrying all the time and feeling anxious about calling him.  He was attempting to sell his condo but was having some difficulty.  I finally decided that enough was enough and I sent him a letter stating that I was very worried about him and that when he sold his condo I would come and pick him up.  Every time I talked to him he told me "oh it's sold I'm moving back to Manitoba".   I may post the letter at some point. He had mentioned that he was going to move in with his "cousin" (family friend of his).   I was worried he would just show up on her door step.  Instead he showed up on ours, one morning.  March 24th to be exact.  The first few weeks he was here, he was pretty tired and broken.  We spent a lot of time trying to get the condo sale dealt with, and jumping from thing to thing trying to get him into a place.  That's when the road blocks started hap