My Last Day

I arrived at their house at the usual time, bearing baked chicken and a potato salad from the local deli. I was greeted warmly. She wanted to make me a sandwich, and have all of us eat lunch together. It was to be my last day with them.

He stood at the back sliding glass doors, looking out into the yard. We talked about lawns, and mowing, and I mentioned that we've got 1/3 of an acre, but I am afraid of the riding lawn mower. "Really?" he said, surprised. "My mother is 83 years old, and she mows her lawn with a riding lawn mower."  This was highly unusual, because he has been oriented to the present pretty much every day in the past few months. "Well," I said, "I better get a little bolder, then, and try that, too!"

We had lunch, which was pleasant, and I started on some of the basic chores I do each time I'm there. Soon, he decided he needed to go outside, but he had difficulty verbalizing what he wanted to do. "I need to find some stuff to... put some stuff in.... I need to take that...." I said "I bet you're going to try to fill up the yard recycle bin again, aren't you?"

"YES!" (relief)

As always, I kept tabs on where he was outside, and watched him as I went from room to room. Just before 3, I saw that the wheel barrow was standing by the living room window, but there was no man. In fact, I said that to his wife. "There's a wheel barrow, but no man." She called and whistled from the front door and the back. No answer. I was getting ready to head out to check when a rapid doorbell ring started us. I opened the door to find a worried neighbor. "The man - your husband? He's fallen out here, and I can't help him."

We found him, seated under the overhang beside the house, straddling and holding onto a post. He was trying with all his strength to get himself to stand. The neighbor stood by, concerned but baffled as to how this was going to work. I coached him to scoot his bottom back about a foot to give us a little working room, then had the neighbor plant her foot in front of his right foot, to keep it from sliding as I would help him to stand. One, two, three, up. He was more weak and shaky than I've ever seen. I had him hang onto the post for a while and get his "sea legs". He stood in a weird position, which was also concerning. We made our way into the mudroom and I helped him sit on the shower chair stored there. "Do me a favor." I said. "Stick your tongue out at me." He did, and that tongue pointed completely to the right, rather than being centered. To his wife I said "This isn't just a simple fall, please call his doctor." The doctor asked that 911 be called immediately.

She had brought a set of sweat clothes, and was, herself, planning to help him into them. He's very "private" was the reasoning. Yes, and she is walking with the assistance of a cane. So - no. I told him "I'm going to help you change your clothes now. I'll use your walker to help you stay steady while we get those muddy pants off." He looked at me, with a puzzled and maybe a little embarrassed look. "I do this every day." I said. That was sufficient, and the job was quickly done.

Once we arrived at the hospital, the long part of the day started. I'll tell you about that on the next post, because this is already too long and you're getting bored. Just know that my day didn't end until after 10:30 PM.