It's raining outside, brown-golden leaves litter the ground and there's a nip in the air that had me thinking earlier about the jacket I'd left at Dad's house. I moved boxes of stuff all day into my new place and my middle aged body is feeling the pain. I love my new place though, a two-bedroom townhouse with a bonus room I can use as an office. It's cosy and in a so-so neighborhood. Not Tacoma's echelon but at least I can come and go without packin'heat. Just kiddin', it's a nice neighborhood. I'm back at Dad's now trying to blog my thoughts.
Dad had an appointment at America's Best for new glasses this morning, and yesterday he agreed, reluctantly, to rent a wheelchair. He's been so stubborn about getting it, which is frustrating because getting him to the car, in the car, and out of the car when we're at the appointed destination has been quite a work out. We're usually okay if the end destination is a hospital because they have wheelchairs for our use. I had no idea why he was being so stubborn until I heard, from the dining room where I was pushing buttons on my computer, a conversation between him and Megan.
Megan: "Dad, the only reason why we want you to have a wheelchair is because we want you to be comfortable. Besides, it also makes it easier on the person taking you."
Dad said, "I don't need a wheelchair." A pause. "And most of the time when we get where we're going they have wheelchairs."
Megan responds softly, patiently. "But Dad, they don't have wheelchairs available at America's Best Eyeglasses. Instead of buying one, maybe you can just rent one for the day. I'll pay for it. Can't be more than $30-$40." Another brief pause. I had to strain my ears to hear him his voice was so soft.
"Well, maybe I could rent one for one day." Longer pause. "I'm afraid if I get one of those things I'll get used to it. Then I won't get better."
Ah...so that's it. God bless Megan. We hear him fussing from time to time, and that's all we hear. But Megan actually spoke to his heart and listened. It's funny, but we've been so focused on trying to treat all the symptoms evident on the outside, we forget everything going on with Dad on the inside. Dad was a Sargent in the U. S. Air force, an extremely independent man used to handling his own affairs without input from anybody. A husband and father to eight children he was responsible for providing a home, feeding, and clothing. And now he is completely dependent on his children and their grown children to nurse him, feed him and bathe him. For such a proud man like Dad, this has to be extremely excruciating. On the inside, he must be terrified, and there's no treatment for that.
So Debbie took Dad to America's Best today and unfortunately he was told that due to his multiple illnesses, they couldn't help him and recommended he see an optician. They also told him he was blind in one eye and so-so in the other. He seemed okay with it when he got back, but I'm not so sure. He's been hit hard the last few weeks, one health issue after another. Of course, we will check with an optician to see what can be done. He really wanted those new glasses though. It's all he's been talking about the last few days.
Debbie said that before he drifted off for a short nap today, he said, "I just need a little bit more time to get better, maybe come spring."
I pray that is so. God, please make it so.
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