Categories: uncategorized
Date: 03 December 2006 20:07:55
Yesterday was a day of fighting back the tears, as was this morning at church. (There are some days when I wish I could have a T-shirt printed that said "Don't ask me how my Dad is unless you are quite certain you want to deal with floods of tears and you have a box of tissues handy"... to be alternated with one that says "Don't ask me how my Dad is unless you want your head bitten off"!) Saturday morning had brought a phone call from the respite centre to ask me to speak to my Dad and reassure him about a small change in his tablets due to them not being authorised to open up the morphine capsules and sprinkle them on honey - which is what he's used to - so he was having to take them unopened with water. I was put through to a very anxious, frightened old man, far more vulnerable than I had allowed myself to realise, and it broke my heart.
Today we went in to see him and while I'd spent all yesterday and this morning getting all emotional (I'd cried like I hadn't cried since Mum died!), he'd been settling in and making friends and getting used to the place, and the lovely care assistants had been looking after him really well. It still isn't where he would choose to be, given the option, but a week there may well do him the world of good in providing company and stimulation while it will definitely do me good now that I can relax and know he's going to be fine.