"Dad! Don't say no so FAST!!"

The whole idea of posting this blog was to record ups and downs. I have had a lot of downs and haven't felt like writing. But I can see now I should always do it, because that's exactly the kind of record that I want. So here's a catching up.

I talked to Dad about the grass-fed beef operation. He immediately (and I mean within 60 seconds) said it would not work. From my mouth I heard, "Dad! Don't say no so fast!" I had to work to control my emotions. I wasn't expecting to be upset. I knew he'd be resistant. But not so quickly. I was expecting that the more he heard the more he'd resist, and thought I'd at least get some of it communicated first.

As I look back on it, I should have been more prepared. A lot of things to unravel here. First, I don't have experience with cows. He doesn't either, though he always thinks he does because his mom had a milk cow when he was a kid and he knows guys who do. I always hear stories, like the people up the road who brought in about a dozen head with nothing but a strand of hot wire, and of course they bolted first chance, and they ended up having to shoot one, after weeks of trying to catch her, even with people on horses. So I'm always competing with these histories.

On another level, Dad is a control freak. He is adjusting to being increasingly disabled. His back has been deteriorating for years. He had surgery for stenosis at age 38, which helped a lot of for years. But advancing problems with it and arthritis made another surgery needed about 4-5 years ago, so that the spine would not narrow to the point that his nerves would be damaged and he'd be paralyzed. It worked, but not so much that he could once again stand upright. So he still has a lot of pain and he's stooped.

His "other" hip needs repair, but he won't do it. He had triple bypass surgery last March (and this followed these surgeries and/or treatments in the past 10 years: prostate cancer, melanoma removed, stents, hip replacement, kidney removed due to cancerous tumor, and major hernia surgery). So he is understandably resistant to more, and thus he's in even more pain and slowed due to the other hip deteriorating.

He is also afraid of what would happen to Norma, his wife, who is diabetic and has been on dialysis for more than 5 years now. She is 9 years older than he, so she'll be 82 this Christmas. She's not doing well at all following a diabetic coma a few years ago that almost killed her. Her brain runs on a 30-second delay, which drives him insane. He loves her very much, and for him, is patient with her, but she is quite stubborn sometimes. She mostly sits and sleeps. He is the reason she is not in a nursing home, and frankly, though he can take care of himself, it's getting increasingly difficult for him to take care of both of them and the house and the lawn, etc.

Then the day after my birthday this year he woke up from a nap blind in his left eye, or nearly so, which was his "good" eye. Turns out that he had what amounted to a stroke in it, since the clot blocked the retina, killed tissue, and thus the sight loss. He likely had another one a long time ago, less severe, in his right. So he has 20/60 vision peripherally. The doctor said that he can drive on bright sunny days, so he does, a little. He'll drive to my and my brother's house, a quarter of a mile away. He has driven into town (5 miles) the "back way" a couple of times, but it makes him nervous. He doesn't say so, but I don't think he likes doing it. It's the hardest thing for him to accept, the not driving. Thank goodness the dialysis people can send a van for Normal three days a week. I ferry them about on Thursdays, "National Hair Day," as Dad calls it.

If she has to go to the bank, Dad sits with his friend Dick in his lair beneath the salon. If not, we go to the bank while she's getting her 'do. Then if needed, we go to the pharmacy, and because she never remembers to call in their prescriptions, we have to sit there for at least half an hour. Then to the grocery store. I'd rather just go get the stuff myself, but it's the most exercise she gets all week and she enjoys it, so we just let her do it. This takes at least 45 minutes for about 3 bags of groceries. In the meantime, I pick up a couple of newspapers for Dad, a couple of donuts, coffee, and we sit out in the truck waiting.

My brother and his kids do most of the mowing now. Dad still likes to get out there, though, so he does some. A neighbor-lady cooks for them 2-3 times a week, enough for a meal and leftovers, and then I try to take something down once a week. They have a cleaning lady. It's working to keep them home. Happily, his doctor said two weeks ago that all his vitals are excellent--cholesterol, lipids, sugar, heart function, etc. Still, he sometimes wishes he hadn't had the heart surgery, since he's not so sure anymore he wants to keep going like this, having his circle of ability closing in on him in an ever-constricting spiral.

So, really, what was I thinking? Dad is still struggling with diminished capacity. He's a control guy. So when he says no, what he's really saying is, "No, I can't do it," not "No, YOU can't do it." He still approaches these things like Mom when she taught us to ride a bike--she let us go, but she was running right along side to make sure we didn't crash and burn. Dad would only say yes if he felt that it was really his project, his responsibility, and letting me kind of pilot it.

I understand it. I am even embarrassed, now, in that I should have realized that it was too much, that I was focusing on what I wanted so hard that I lost sight of how much he's already dealing with.

So, I'm regrouping. Things might still work out, just not as I had originally had in mind. Which is how it always is, yes?