My spirit is restless this morning. I was awakened by the phone ringing. It was a company I have been working with in regards to getting Al out of the nursing home. Al is restless and unhappy. I don’t remember him being like this when he was here with me.

Not that our home is close to heaven; but I believe Al’s attitude has changed towards life itself. I had called to see why he did not go to a certain program last Thursday on his outing.

No one that I questioned at the facility knew the answers. I should not say this but I am thinking it, so why not go for it? How can a facility work together day after day and yet when a question is surfaced not one person in any of the departments knows the answers.

It just floors me or maybe I am too impatient. I ask and I do not receive. I am so bad at handling the unknown. I move throughout the hours and days like a mechanical doll. In the head sizzling, is the question that you try so hard to patiently wait to get the answers.

I may have Al placed and I have more quiet time here at home, but sometimes I wonder if expecting Al to receive better care because there is more staff than just me at home was such a good idea.

Now I am faced with the challenges of going through the linked chain to get help. It seems that the priorities that need to be worked with for Al can not be done. The state will not allow the staff to become too closely involved. They can admit him, take all of his money, give him medications, make sure he is encouraged to eat three meals a day etc. But, they can not stop the weight gain, the lack of socializing Al needs and wearing the same clothes day after day. They can’t work on issues Al has unless it is through a physical therapy department.

I am just a rambling on mess. I am to the place that I don’t know how to fix things any longer. Should I toss this whole process as if I am putting a dirty dish cloth in the washer? How far do I go before I have dug up the foundation of this staff?

I finally got my answer this morning through the phone call. Al did not want to go to the day program. He was upset. He always knew that when I said the word outing, it meant fun and hopefully buying a coca cola item. He got angry that he could only take a few dollars with him because he wanted to take out all of his money in case he found a coca cola deal. Well maybe I should add another weight to my shoulders and blame myself for trying to make Al smile. I did take him a lot of places. So now I pronounce my own self guilty.

I get it to a point. We all want to get what we want in life. It is our human nature. The difference is when Al was here I could reason with him. No one seems to be able to reason with Al at the facility. I can’t sit here and blame his new home. Maybe it is the confusion of his Parkinson’s Dementia. Or maybe Al is simply throwing a tantrum.

But I do know that he was looking forward to going to the program because as he said, he was going to get to see all of his old friends. Now through babbling on like a blooming idiot, I have finally keyed in on the point.

Al isn’t recognizing the effects of his behaviors. He was asking me why he didn’t get to go to the activity when he is the one who told staff in anger and hurt that he didn’t want to do anything if he couldn’t have some of his money.

Now I see a child throwing a fit. Should I pounce on Al and let him know this is all his fault? Let him see that his anger and hurt by not getting what he wanted ruined his own trip? Does he get it, or is it too complex for his thought process?

This is where my mind swirls and before I even had my coffee cooking a way, my mind was already a jumbled hurting confused mess.

You see one of the things I love about myself is I can move forward if I choose to. Now I am in constant state of being on hold. When the professionals don’t have the answers, who does? When they don’t have the answers, who does?

I can’t make any hasty decisions because I am dealing with a delicate unbalanced mind. I don’t want to upset the so-called apple cart. I sat on the bed and thought about it for a while. I then decided to go in and talk to my brother today; but I wanted back-up.

Not for the reason of my safety, but for the professional words to help guide me through the explaining process of what I wanted to say to Al. I called the facility and was told the lady I needed to talk to just stepped into a meeting that would last for 15 minutes.

She was going to give her the message to call me as soon as she stepped out the door. It has now been one hour and ten minutes and still no phone call. Instead of tossing this over my shoulder, flipping on my radio to turn my brain on auto, I will sit here and stress because I can not get the answers. Sounds impatient doesn’t it? I may have to admit that I am a little this morning. But when you had a tiny puddle of mud in the beginning and after months of digging in it, you now are standing in a pool, I tend to lose that good patience quality.

Some things were just so much easier when he lived here at home. It was his and my decisions. It didn’t include 25 departments and hearing too many I don’t knows. Life was simple, when I look back. All I dealt with then was his sadness and depression. Now it is constantly looked at as how to fix it. This includes many meetings with hope built-in to them and walking out still unsettled. The alternative is to keep giving him more and more medications until he is a zombie in a restless mind and body.

I just wish now at one of my weak moments that Parkinson’s would fall off the face of the earth. I wish that I was asking Al what he wanted to do today. I wish that I had not placed him where money became the object. I just wish. Wow, I am tired all ready and it isn’t even noon yet.

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