Story, Part 4

The day after we arrived on South Padre Island Dad wanted to drive up the island to see how it had changed. We drove for a few miles with nothing but sand on both sides of the road. Finally there was a small camp of people camping in a circle with an entrance and exit to the road. They were driving in and out so I decided to drive in to see the ocean better. Well, I got stuck in the sand. Getting stuck in the sand is much worse than getting stuck in mud. You sink much faster when your wheels turn. A man came up and told us he could pull us out in exchange for money for their heating oil. I looked toward the ocean and there was another person stuck a little farther in. We realized it was a scam but we didn't have any other choice since we didn't have a telephone in the car. I paid the guy and he pulled us out. Dad got a big kick out of my being taken. I was sure glad he wasn't mad.

Road up the island

I always gave myself a permanent before we went north our south. I didn't have to spend much time on my hair that way and it looked decent. I did that before we went to South Padre Island also. It came out a little "tighter" than normal but when I used the curling iron it looked fine and was easy to take care of. Well, what I didn't realize was that the humidity on South Padre Island was extremely high. We had been there the spring before but it didn't sink into my head that the humidity being so high was the reason I felt like I was almost drowning. The first day we were there I curled and combed my hair, sprayed it and thought I was set for the day. A couple hours later I looked in the mirror and my hair looked like it did right after the perm, frizzy. I curled it again, but a couple hours later it was back to frizz again.. I finally gave up and talked to my neighbors about it. They explained that the high humidity was the cause. I went around all winter with frizzy hair that stuck straight up. My hair was too short to tie back but sometimes I would put a hair band on it to hold it down. I really looked awful. A few weeks before we left I finally asked at a pharmacy and they had a hair spray that would hold in 90% humidity. It did help some.

Campground at South Padre Island

A couple days after we were stuck in the sand Dad wanted to drive up the island again to see if those trailers were still there, which they were. This time we drove father and turned around in a safe place to head back to town. Just before we were in town we had a flat tire on the car. The back of the suburban was completely loaded to the top with boat motors, etc., and I didn't know how I was going to get the spare tire out. A man on a motor cycle stopped and help change it. I sure was glad to see him. He wouldn't take any money for changing the tire. There are good people everywhere, as well as the other kind that take your money when you are stuck in the sand.

Dad had a small stroke and was in the hospital for around three days. After Dad was discharged from the hospital the home health agency admitted him. The agency had very good people. They were all Mexican and I learned to respect them quite a lot. Dad kept talking about them having strong family units.

After this stroke Dad enjoyed the email more than he had before. He would sit in his chair then suddenly say, "Well, what does Vivien and Kinsell have to say?" Or, he would ask about the other relatives that I was corresponding with. I read each email, then sometimes he would have me read it again later.

When I took Mom to the bathroom there was a mirror that she always saw as we walked through the door. She would stop, look into it, point at it and asked "Who is that old lady?" I explained that it was her, then she would look at it very intent. She would say, "Her? Oh no. That's not me. I don't look like that. She does look familiar, though. Kind of like Grandma." Then I would be able to get her to walk out. She wouldn't leave until we went through this routine. I finally hung a towel over the mirror so she couldn't see it. People with Alzheimer’s reach a point where they don’t recognize themselves in the mirror.

View from our trailer

Several times we went to Brownsville then ate at Furr's. Dad loved their jalapeno corn bread and there was always a good variety of food I could feed Mom. They both ate better there. The last time we went there Mom couldn't get in the car. She finally refused and I had to physically pick her up to put her in. When we went home she didn't want to get in the trailer either and I had to physically pick her up again. She decided more than once she couldn't get in the trailer and I had to pick her up and put her in. That was the start of my back hurting.

I called the nurse one day because Dad seemed to be having some sort of stroke. She came over and we watched Dad for a little bit. He couldn't control his right arm and his face looked drooped. She took his blood pressures, etc., then called the doctor and he told us to take him to the hospital. By the time we had him there all the symptoms were gone. When the nurse went to work the next week the doctor teased her a lot about imagining things. Dad had trouble controlling his arm another time or two but we didn't panic and waited longer, then it went away. Dad was already taking aspirin and blood pressure medicine.

There were two aids I remember most. One was a woman and she was very good with my parents. She made sure Mom was clean enough even though Mom fought her. She was careful and made sure she didn't hurt Mom. Afterwards Mom didn't hold any resentment toward her. Her husband was a shrimper and she seemed to love him and her kids very much. The other aid was a young man with a family. He did well with both of my parents, also. He was supporting his family by working 10-12 hour days 6-7 days a week and didn't complain about the hours. He thought that all he was doing was what was necessary to take care of his family.

Christmas
Sign at entrance to park

During the night before Christmas Dad kept throwing up. He didn't appear to be having a stroke or anything like that, but he was very sick. In the morning (Christmas Day) I called the nurse and her husband brought her over. She stayed for 2-3 hours, with her husband patiently waiting in the car, and finally said she thought he was having a major stroke and that we should get him to the hospital. Occasionally the throwing up goes along with a stroke and he was starting to have other symptoms. I called the ambulance and we took him to the closest hospital. They admitted him and verified that he had had a stroke.

The next day I got Mom ready and we went to the hospital. We couldn't get there before 1:00, which it turned out was probably a good thing. When I walked into the room Dad was laying in bed awake. His food was rolled to the side of the room, untouched. I talked to Dad and found that he couldn't do anything for himself. I couldn't understand his speech and he couldn't do anything, even raise his arm. I was horrified. I asked the nurse why someone hadn't fed him and she didn't give an answer. I then asked if he had taken his medicine. She checked the chart and said that he had not been given it. The doctor told me that Dad was supposed to continue his meds to keep him from having another stroke. I asked her why he hadn't been given his medicine. She checked, then asked the nurse that was supposed to give it to him. Her answer was that the pharmacy had not sent it. They did not called the pharmacy to get it when it didn't come. They just didn't give it to him. I was very upset but had to try to remain as calm as I could. They weren't giving him his medicine and they weren't feeding him. I started feeding him and giving him something to drink. He was quite thirsty. I doubt if they had given him anything to drink all morning, and possible all night.

I called my sisters about the situation. They asked their friends and found that there was a hospital in Harlingen, a city about 30 miles away, that was supposed to be a good hospital. I told the nurse I wanted to transfer him to that hospital. She called the doctor and we waited, and waited. I was used to the hospitals in Iowa. They had their problems but I was completely shocked at this kind of hospital being in the United States. I had heard stories about hospitals in other countries, but to have a hospital treat a patient like that in the United States was almost beyond my comprehension.

While we waited the nurses seemed to be extremely busy. It was obvious that they were very short-handed. One time I heard the head nurse say she had received a call from the administrator of the hospital saying that he was coming over and wanted to know what was going on. One patient wanted to transfer to another hospital and another patient wanted to do something, but I don't remember what.

About 7:00 or 8:00 that night they finally processed everything and the ambulance took Dad to the other hospital. Mom and I drove over, filled out the papers and made sure he was taken care of. They limited the number of patients assigned to each nurse and it appeared cleaner and under better control.

Believe me, I was at that hospital much earlier the next day. I wasn't going to take a chance of the same thing happening there. By the time the damage from the stroke was completely apparent Dad couldn't talk so you could understand him, he couldn't move the left side of his body, and his mind seemed damaged very badly. He just looked around and acted like he didn't understand anything. About three days later he was improving and seemed to be able to talk better. His mind seemed to be working and he acted like he knew what I was talking about. I felt very encouraged. We were visiting, Dad was looking at us and we were communicating. Suddenly his eyes became glazed and he just stared into space. They were completely blank. His mind was completely gone at that point. I felt so sick. My intelligent father that had his masters degree didn't know anything.

I took Mom home, trying to act like everything was all right. Visiting Dad in the hospital wasn't new to her and she took it very well and thought he would be fine. The next day when we went to the hospital I wasn't sure what I would find. They hadn't called to say that Dad had died, but I didn't know if he would be a complete vegetable or not. We walked into the room and he recognized us. I could have shouted - but that wouldn't be acceptable in a hospital.

Dad kept improving and the doctors talked about admitting him to the therapy section of the hospital. The head doctor wouldn't approve that, though. He said Dad was over 90 and it would be a waste of time and money. I argued with him but he was convinced that anyone over 90 didn't have any chance of a decent life. When that doctor is old perhaps he will think differently. He said he would sign papers so Dad could receive physical therapy at the trailer, if I insisted. I insisted. A few weeks after Dad was discharged there was an article in the newspaper that said a boy (somewhere between 15-25) died of a heart attack. The doctor was quoted as saying that he didn't check his heart because he was too young to have a heart attack. The boy had the obvious, classic signs of a heart attack. This all made me wonder how many doctors decide what can be wrong with a person or how they are treated because of their age, not because of their physical health and symptoms.

Dad was discharged about two weeks after he was admitted. He seemed to make sense when he talked, could get around better and seemed to know where he was. As I was driving him home Dad told me that I had nice horses, and he wanted to know if his team was at his place. That shook me up and all I could do was drive. I told him yes. I had already learned that you don't argue with someone if they aren't aware of their surroundings. It only upsets them and makes things worse. You go with the flow, as the expression says. I missed the turn off the interstate to go to our trailer and had to drive 30 miles extra.

At the trailer I helped Dad in, then Mom. Mom was always willing to sit in the car, but if I took her into the trailer first, she would try to walk around and would fall against things.

View from South Padre Island

In some ways Dad seemed to be improving, but in other ways he seemed to get weaker and worse. A few days later Dad started bleeding a lot when he urinated. It looked like straight blood. I called the nurse and Dad told her he had started doing that the day before. We decided to call the ambulance. The doctor at the hospital checked Dad then put him on an oral medicine and sent him home. The nurse in the hospital did say that when he was discharged the last time he did have a urinary tract infection that they hadn't treated because he left a couple hours before they had the test results back.

I took Dad home and gave him the pills. He got worse. The next day I called the nurse because he was complaining about not being able to go to the bathroom. She came over immediately, called the doctor then the ambulance. They took him to a different hospital (a third hospital). When we got to the hospital the doctor was waiting for us. He was a good doctor. He said that Dad's bladder had turned into one big blood clot and that they needed to get it out fast. They had to put some fluid into his bladder to break it up then get it out. Dad made it through that fine. They kept him in the hospital a few days to make sure it didn't happen again, and they made sure his infection was better. The day they discharged him the weather turned nasty and was very windy, raining, sleeting, and below freezing. Brownsville hadn't had any ice or snow for several years, but that day they had ice on the roads. Compared to Iowa it wasn't bad but they didn't have the equipment for it and people didn't know how to drive on it. They closed the roads. I wrapped Mom up good and put her in the car, then drove over to the hospital. Where there were road blocks I took side streets. We finally got to the hospital when I realized I hadn't brought any shoes or clothes for Dad. The ones he had on when he was admitted had to be washed so I took them home. The nurses there decided they would put Dad in an old doctors scrub outfit and socks so I could take him home. While they did that I pulled the car up and left it running. I took Mom to the car and put her in, then they wheeled Dad to the car and put him into the warm car as fast as we could. I then drove through a Walgreen's drive-thru and we sat there while they filled the prescription.

Finally, I had Dad home and he was improving. A physical therapist that lived on the island agreed to give Dad therapy. He handled Dad very good and was able to get him to walking. He told me that when you are with someone that is unstable and you don't have a gate belt, you can guide them with your hands on their waist and you can maneuver them almost anywhere. At least when they are as good as Dad was.

The aid and I discussed what to do to make Dad happy and we decided that she would go into Mexico and buy him a black cowboy hat he wanted. She would guess son the size. I gave her the money and the next day she came back with it. It didn't fit him, so she bought another one, but it still didn't fit. She finally bought one that would fit and I kept the rest of the hats to give to my kids and their spouses. Every time we went anyplace Dad would insist on wearing that hat.

Dad wasn't aware of things at that time and I had to change the sheets at least once a day. I ran the clothes, sheets and towels to a laundry over the bridge in the morning when the aid was there and then pick them up the next day when I took another load of clothes and sheets over. It cost around $10.00 a day to have them laundered.

South Padre Island

A few weeks later Mom decided to quit eating. I tried to get her to open her mouth but she would clamp it shut and not let me put anything in it. The nurse helped and we were able to get a couple tablespoons of Jell-O down her mouth every day. We couldn't get her medicine, food, or any liquids into her stomach other than the Jell-O. After a while we stopped trying to get the medicine down her because it would really throw her system into a tailspin with no food or liquids. She became weak, her heart beat very irregular, she was dehydrated, etc. She system was stopping.

During that time Gary and Dorothy, Dad's nephew and his wife, were in Texas for a while and decided to drop in. They stayed for a little while then left. It upset them that Mom wouldn't eat, but I explained that it would be worse to put her in the hospital. She would fight everything so much that she would have to be tied down, and she would probably still pull out the IV's several times.

After about 2 weeks Mom suddenly decided to start eating. It took a while but we finally got her back on a normal amount of food and liquids. She gained strength and was able to walk again. That is, with me leading her.

Hobbes seemed to think helping watch my parents was part of his job. When Mom was eating better, but still now well yet, I had her laying down on the couch beside the computer. She was very tired, her back hurt and she needed to go to sleep. She didn't want to go to sleep (like all little kids) and I kept telling her to lay down. Finally, Hobbes looked at her and meowed at her like a mother cat does her kittens when she is telling them to straighten up. Then he looked at me with and expression like, "I told her to do what she is supposed to do."

After Dad had his stroke it seemed I was always buying medicine. I added it up and found that there were months that the prescriptions for Mom and Dad cost around $800.00 a month.

Eric and Chandra had a daughter in February and of course I was a proud grandmother. The aid said she was going over to Mexico so I had her buy some Mexican clothes for the baby, Tori. She bought some baby clothes then an outfit for when she was older. It was a Mexican dress, sombrero, and sandals. Those clothes were darling.

I talked to my sisters during all this and told them I didn't know how I was going to get Mom and Dad home. We decided to wait until it was closer to the time to come home before we would have to make a decision. Someone could fly down and drive the trailer back, and Mom, Dad and I could fly to Iowa. Hopefully we wouldn't have to do that, but it might be our only option.

South Padre Island Beach

Eric and Chandra were moving to Tennessee around the first of April and I wasn't sure I would get back in time to see the baby. I love babies, especially my granddaughter, but Dad was more important. Tori would be around for many years.

Dad seemed to improve quite a lot, but then the car started making a clanking noise when the motor was running. The man across the street told me of a place just over the bridge that he had used, so I took it there and had someone pick me up. If I were in Iowa I wouldn't even consider taking the car to a place like that, but I didn't have any choice. It looked like a dirty gas station that repaired things in Iowa 50 years earlier. The aid stayed with my parents while I drove the car over. They said they could have it done the next day, but the next day it wasn't done. Finally it was done about 3-4 days later. The motor did not sound right. I told the guy about it but he said it was fine. Even though it wasn't fixed right I thought it might get us back to Granger. I thought Dad was doing well enough to make it. I hated to leave the people caring for my parents because they did such a good job and they were so nice, but it was time to go home.

The first day on the road Dad was upset and told me I needed to turn around and go back home to Granger. He got more and more upset, and after I stopped several times to talk to him I finally stopped for the rest of the day. We went about 125 miles.

The second day we made it a little farther, but not too much. The third day Dad sat there next to Mom, and said, "Well, we should be about half way through by now." I asked him, "About half way through where?" and he said Mexico. He was still confused and traveling seemed to make it worse. I decided I needed to get them home as soon as possible so I drove over the speed limit and as many hours each day as Mom and Dad could handle. It took us a total of 5 days to get back to Granger. At a rest stop close to Lamoni, Iowa we met Kenneth and Doris for a few minutes. Dad told Kenneth it was hell, but he didn't seem to be able to carry on a conversation. It did Dad a lot of good to see his brother.

We were finally almost home. We had turned off Interstate 35-80 onto 141 and only had about 9 miles to go. When we were at the Grimes exit something happened to the motor and the car stopped. I rolled to the side of the road and got out. It turned out that the transmission fluid all fell out. A policeman drove by then turned around and came back. He was on his way home when he saw us. He helped put Mom and Dad in his car and called a tow truck. The truck hooked onto the car and towed the car and trailer to our house. The policeman and tow truck driver both helped get my parents into the house, then we unhooked the trailer and he towed the car over to Beneventi's Chevrolet. We made it home!