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Something's wrong with my father.
He's had a history of obscure and odd medical conditions... both knees replaced, scar tissue around the spinal cord, chronic pain, affected by nerve agent in Vietnam, collapsed veins, migraines, a tendency for pneumonia, glaucoma, and most recently, diabetes. He wears a morphine pump in an effort to control his constantly firing pain receptors and let him have a semi-normal life. But through it all, his mind has always been good. He may be tired or verbally challenged due to his medicine or pain, but he was always there. Today, though... he wasn't.
Or rather, he's still himself. But his recognition of familiar things (taking TV shows and famous people as an example) isn't right. He can't find words that he knows, and repeats himself without realizing it. He wandered into my room this morning by mistake, thinking it was my mother's (and that I was Mom). We talked for about 5 minutes before he realized it. I'm afraid he's had a stroke, and that scares and saddens me.
He's only 56.
Basically, it all just brings home all the frustration I have about him. I love him so much, and I know he suffers more than I could ever really know... his pain levels are really off the chart. But he smokes, and he eats stuff that's bad for him, and he won't/can't exercise. He has no hope that anything can make him better, and so he won't try. And for anyone not aware, smoking with diabetes is like cutting 20 years off your life. It ups your chances of stroke, heart attack, blindness, kidney failure, and even amputation exponentially. He will. not. stop. He won't change his diet, though that would help him. He'd rather take medication and pretend that it gets his blood sugar down to where it should be (he was in 300s when diagnosed. He's down to 180s now. Normal is closer to 100, if I recall correctly). Anything I cook that might be good for him, he won't touch with a ten foot pole. He'll eat a quart of sherbet in a day, but God forbid he should eat anything good for him. He knows that he needs to exercise, and he can't walk any great distance. But he won't make it a priority to get to a pool to do exercises, and no one else can get him there.
I'm basically watching him commit suicide by inches. I can't talk to my Mom about it, because she can't affect the situation either. I can't talk to him about it, because he just gets angry and storms off, more stubborn than ever. It's killing me to stand by and watch, but there's nothing else I can do.
I just hope I'm wrong about what's wrong with him. I'm not ready to lose him yet.
He's had a history of obscure and odd medical conditions... both knees replaced, scar tissue around the spinal cord, chronic pain, affected by nerve agent in Vietnam, collapsed veins, migraines, a tendency for pneumonia, glaucoma, and most recently, diabetes. He wears a morphine pump in an effort to control his constantly firing pain receptors and let him have a semi-normal life. But through it all, his mind has always been good. He may be tired or verbally challenged due to his medicine or pain, but he was always there. Today, though... he wasn't.
Or rather, he's still himself. But his recognition of familiar things (taking TV shows and famous people as an example) isn't right. He can't find words that he knows, and repeats himself without realizing it. He wandered into my room this morning by mistake, thinking it was my mother's (and that I was Mom). We talked for about 5 minutes before he realized it. I'm afraid he's had a stroke, and that scares and saddens me.
He's only 56.
Basically, it all just brings home all the frustration I have about him. I love him so much, and I know he suffers more than I could ever really know... his pain levels are really off the chart. But he smokes, and he eats stuff that's bad for him, and he won't/can't exercise. He has no hope that anything can make him better, and so he won't try. And for anyone not aware, smoking with diabetes is like cutting 20 years off your life. It ups your chances of stroke, heart attack, blindness, kidney failure, and even amputation exponentially. He will. not. stop. He won't change his diet, though that would help him. He'd rather take medication and pretend that it gets his blood sugar down to where it should be (he was in 300s when diagnosed. He's down to 180s now. Normal is closer to 100, if I recall correctly). Anything I cook that might be good for him, he won't touch with a ten foot pole. He'll eat a quart of sherbet in a day, but God forbid he should eat anything good for him. He knows that he needs to exercise, and he can't walk any great distance. But he won't make it a priority to get to a pool to do exercises, and no one else can get him there.
I'm basically watching him commit suicide by inches. I can't talk to my Mom about it, because she can't affect the situation either. I can't talk to him about it, because he just gets angry and storms off, more stubborn than ever. It's killing me to stand by and watch, but there's nothing else I can do.
I just hope I'm wrong about what's wrong with him. I'm not ready to lose him yet.
