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Musings on anything. |
I became my father's caretaker. He was the boss. We did what he wanted when he wanted and he wasn't always happy about it. Gradually, I started going with him to the doctor because I didn't trust him to come home and give an accurate diagnosis. Eventually, I became his chauffeur, then wheel chair pusher, and the doctor knew to discuss everything with me. Soon he was totally reliant on me for driving, unless he got a wild hair and went off alone on a short errand. That part was scary. At first I felt intrusive, even bossy, but he seemed to rely on my memory and judgment. He had no privacy and could no longer be his independent self. So I left him alone to garden or piddle in the garage or yard. He still had physical strength and could feel in charge of some things. He begged me to take him home from the hospital at the end, but I couldn't provide the care he needed, like oxygen, at home. His temperament and dementia made him a difficult patient. Now I am recovering from a serious surgery. I am not suffering from dementia, but I do have a few relatives who want to treat me like an invalid. I am slowly coming around, but still have things I cannot do by myself. I want my independence back. Unlike my dad, there may be some hope for me becoming self-reliant once again. We are reminded we are not islands, and must interact with and appreciate others. |