A Long, Boring Update

Don and I decided to have my birthday dinner at the new Mexican restaurant in Bridgton, and it was really good. Things were still pretty unclear with Dad that night, but we made the best of it over Don's enchiladas and my giant burrito. I texted him a couple of times during the meal.

Dad had been moved that afternoon to the rehab facility, that is located right next door to his apartment complex. He was placed in dark, cramped room with another patient. There wasn't a lot I could do, but I found comfort in the emails Phyllis, Clarissa, Nat and I had been exchanging. Phyllis visited Dad everyday last week, and kept us updated on Dad's physical and mental health.

Saturday, Don and I left at a little before noon for our long drive down to our private party gig in Sturbridge, Ma. As I was turning into the toll plaza for our first leg onto 95 south, a distracted driver in a Suburu filled with family cut me off. My reaction was simply to slow down and wave them in. When I got to the booth, I had my dollar bill out to hand to the attendant. The man said, I see you got cut off back there. Oh, yes, I guess I did, I said with a shrug. I really appreciate how you didn't get angry. You didn't honk your horn or create a scene with road rage. Don't see that too often. I guess not, I replied with a smile. For that, he said, I'm going to let you go no charge. Really? Yes, thank you for staying cool. Wow, thanks!

That put a smile on MY face for a while. We stopped for a bathroom break somewhere way down in Massachusetts, and a man was sitting outside on a bench having a cigarette. You from Maine? Yes. Where about? The Lakes Region, near Sebegao Lake. Oh yes. I have spent some time in Waterville. Oh okay. I chatted with him for a couple of more minutes, about everything from heating with wood to home prices, and then we were back on the road. Don says, they can smell you a mile away. I guess they can.

We got to the venue just in the nick of time. We set up and played a short set, then our host waved us over and told us to take a break and get into the food line. We noshed on pork and chicken and vegetables and salads. It was delicious. Mike, our host, whose 60th birthday we were performing for, was a fan from seeing us up at the Maine Blues Festival several times. He chatted with us a lot on our breaks. I was tired and emotionally drained from everything with Dad, but we got through the show and we were back on the road again by 9:25. I drove the whole way home, three and a half hours. We were home a little after 1 a.m. It was such a relief to have that commitment behind us.

Sunday it snowed all day. Monday afternoon, I got back on the road and drove up to Brunswick to visit Dad. I spent an hour and a half with him in the afternoon, and dropped off his monthly check at the front desk of the complex for him and picked up his mail. Then, I walked back to his apartment and dropped off my bags. I went back out and drove five minutes down the road to the Hannaford and bought some foods for dinner, then drove back and spent some time sorting through Dad's overflow of magazines. I made about six trips to the recycling bin! After I called Don and had a wine spritzer, I walked back over to the rehab facility to visit Dad again. His room mate was sleeping, so I talked Dad into walking out of the room and over to a little lounge area next a fish tank. We talked for another 40 minutes or so, then I walked him back and said goodnight to him. I went back to his apartment and ate my dinner and watched my MSNBC shows, eventually dozing off on the couch. Phyllis texted my around 10:30 and we set a time for her to meet us the next morning.

In the morning, I made some coffee and updated Clarissa on the phone. I cleaned up the kitchenette and emptied the trash, then made a trip out to the car with my bags. I walked over to the rehab and was surprised to see that Dad wasn't there, nor was the bed! Turns out they had moved him across the hall to his own private room. He was sitting in the chair but still in his bathrobe when I entered the sunny room. A resident from the senior complex came by to say hello, and then Phyllis showed up, too. Phyllis alerted the nursing station that we were all there, and if the resident doctor could come by, we'd love that. And, he did.

He was very thoughtful and kind, and we talked about Dad's plan for the future. He was concerned that Dad hadn't dropped enough weight, so he suggested that he'd like to add a second diuretic to help dislodge the stubborn fluid still hanging around in Dad's lungs. He thought that maybe it would be best to keep Dad in rehab until at least Sunday.

After the doctor left, Phyllis and I walked to her car and got her dog, Joy. Then we walked over to the apartment building in order to try and have a quick meeting with the staff nurse, Deb O'Neil. While we waited for her to come back from lunch, we chatted with a couple of residents who were also waiting to meet with her. We had a good talk with Nurse Deb, then Phyllis and I drove over to the Brunswick Diner and Phyllis treated me to lunch. We talked a lot and it felt great to confirm that we are on the "same page." I love her.

Phyllis drove back to the rehab to see Dad one more time, and I hit the road and got back home around 4:30.

Tomorrow, there is a "team meeting" at the rehab facility to assess Dad's discharge plans, and today I realized I might be able to get out of driving back up there and instead just stay home and have Phyllis put me on speaker on her iPhone.

Dad's scheduled to meet with his Primary Care doctor on Tuesday morning, and if that stands (knock on wood), I'll drive up for that. There is talk about having a home health nurse come in and check on Dad once a day or so once he's back into his apartment.

So, we've still got things to work out, but, hopefully, he can continue to live independently for a little while longer.