Lewy was being rather stubborn today. One good day of food and that was enough apparently. I could not get him to eat more than 3 half teaspoon sized bites of the biscuit/gravy/bacon/fried potatoes and onions blend. It actually tastes the way you would expect it to taste if you poured gravy all over your fried potatoes and onions and popped a bit of biscuit in your mouth. Pretty good. Gravy is Daddy’s favorite food group.
Never the less today was not a gravy kind of day. He just looked straight at me, and plain as day said “NO!”
OK I can take “no” for an answer. It seems to me that somewhere there is enough of Daddy left rambling around in Lewy’s head to figure out his time is coming to an end. He wants to talk about deals and property and taxes, and who is shaving money off the top. These are important memories from the ’60-70-80’s.
Now, there is no more property, no more business, and no more employees to chase around.
It seems to me that if we are smart, we should find ways to divest our brain of all these plagues that stress us out until the day we die. Wouldn’t dementia be much more pleasant if you worried about fishing instead of workers everywhere? Or how much of it is just Daddy’s personality trait of being paranoid about everything and everyone?
Even though Lewy would not eat or drink to my satisfaction, it was in fact a wonderful day. Lewy announced very loudly that he had to shit. Wonderful! We’ve been wondering when our little brown friend would reappear…it’s been several days, maybe a week since there was a bowel movement.
You might ask; why is this so wonderful? Good that his bowels are working, but wonderful!?! That’s a bit of a stretch, perhaps?
No my friends, wonderful!
This announcement came about 30 minutes before Yvonne was due to arrive for his thrice weekly bath. Oh yes! What perfect timing!!
“Come on Daddy….See if you can’t squeeze it out now, before we get you cleaned up…” A little coaching goes a long way with Lewy’s. He had gotten confused and was by then trying to hold it in.
Thirty minutes of “coaching” and the blessed event happened. It was perfect in form and in timing. Yvonne had shaved him, washed his entire body and was preparing to clean his rear when the lump-o-poo arrived. We both patted him on his legs and encouraged him to push a bit.
“Try to get it all out Daddy. We ( I ) don’t want you to mess yourself after Yvonne gets you cleaned up.”
Daddy pressed down. Buuurp! Just some gas. Buurrrrpt! More gas. I think we are done…nope a little plop! Success! A complete empting, and all right there on the old diaper, cleaned up in seconds and butt waxed down with zinc oxide and re diapered. Yvonne is magnificent!
She finished up her work and walked around to the head of the bed to say goodbye to Daddy. “Goodbye Mr. Lewy; I will see you Wednesday…OK?”
“OK, Doll. You come back anytime. Maybe we could unumu muonn dancing.”
That’s my Dad. He can’t say anything understandable in days but when its time to flirt. He’s still got game.
1 comments:
Stella said...
Glad to hear Mr Lewy is trying to make time with the ladies. He knows how to get good care. No one can resist a little attention. Its a Win Win situation all around. Goodnight, Mr Lewy and sweet dreams. May you dream of all the happy times gone by.