tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59808114222128265912024-02-21T05:53:43.967-08:00Dementia And DominoesDad had dementia and Parkinson's, but lived to be 89. He coped by playing dominoes and 42. Dad lived with me for 9 years. My husband referred to my Dad as "God's Grindstone." We played dominoes, lots of dominoes, and learned to keep up with the moving target that is dementia and caregiving. Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-11637849424091609432015-07-01T20:26:00.001-07:002015-07-01T20:31:47.613-07:00Grace and Transfiguration
Nandina leaves and Fennel blossom
Turning Leaves
As I age,
change will come.
To some,
it looks like disease.
I shall morph,
and endure degradation.
This process
is from nature.
Let us try
not to fear it -
not overmuch.
Within my new colors,
my true self
adjusts.
The fuel for
my progress
is
Grace.
My father has been gone 5 months now. His presence is still strong in my house. Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-90592795907648765002015-02-21T06:29:00.001-08:002015-02-21T06:29:25.469-08:00Dad in the SeaBees, 1943-46
Dad on Mbanika Island, 1944, with CBMU 573. Shirts were optional.
My father served in World War 2 with the Navy SeaBees.
Here is a video that gives you a taste of his adventure in the South Pacific.
My father passed away at home on February 7, 2015. Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-17167167182943872902014-08-07T04:00:00.000-07:002014-08-06T20:59:01.930-07:00Dad's Very Important 5th Birthday
Dad, on his 5th Birthday, 1930
Photo by Dad's Mother
Dad's 5th birthday was a life-changing event. His family had moved from the country to the big city, they were sharing a house with friends, and public school would soon claim his childish freedom.
Stock Market Crash of 1929
It was August 11, 1930. One year before, the stock market had hit a peak high of 381.17 on the Dow Jones. But by latePam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-22424354671574580082014-07-29T20:24:00.002-07:002014-07-29T20:24:50.594-07:00Dad's Existential Question Cycle
Question Cycle Booklet
Photo by Pam Stephan
Dad has been living with dementia for at least 8 years now. He has an awareness of his loss of memory and it does bother him. Before he retired, Dad worked as a civil engineer, doing highway design. That means math - lots of numbers: calculations, formulas, checking and rechecking. He worked on interchanges, overpasses, underpasses, on-ramps, Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-78063016160152510982014-06-15T21:12:00.000-07:002014-06-15T21:12:16.523-07:00Father's Day: Things My Father Taught Me
Dad feeds baby Pam, about 3 months old.
Photo by Mom, June 1956
Dad was a teacher, even though he trained for civil engineering and did a lot of construction. I started learning from him when I was tiny. In honor of him on this Father's Day, here are some things Dad either taught me, or helped me learn.
Don't Argue With Mom. Why? Because you'll always lose. It's not about who's right and Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-49620113201618820802014-06-12T20:48:00.001-07:002014-08-05T19:55:41.316-07:00Mom's 87th Birthday
Mom, 1946
Studio Portrait
Today would have been my mother's 87th birthday. Her final birthday was spent in hospice, where she passed away 9 years ago. She and Dad were married for 60 years and he misses her every day.
Even though dementia is slowly wiping away my Dad's memories, he does not forget Mom. Like many people enduring memory loss, he asks repeated questions daily. She is a prime Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-72882457772171748342014-05-28T20:00:00.001-07:002014-05-28T20:00:16.630-07:00Sleeping Around is Often the Caregiver's Lot
Hospital bed and visitor's cot
Photo by Pam Stephan
In the last month, I have slept in several places. When my dad is doing well, I can sleep in my own bed. But when Dad's health or confusion brought on by dementia acts up, I sleep where I can help him or reassure him.
I've been Dad's caregiver for seven years now and as his memory loss progresses, he
needs to see a familiar face Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-66552800722473431362014-05-11T21:23:00.000-07:002014-05-11T21:23:09.929-07:00Mother's Day - I am not my Dad's new Mommy!
Dora, my father's motherFormal portrait circa late 1940's
My grandmother was a wonderful person, and could love people unconditionally. She started out in life with very little, but worked hard all her life. Grannie was a mother to two sons - my father was the younger of the two. Both of my father's parents taught their boys to be respectful, work hard, play when it was time, and love truly. Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-83649960239588576052014-03-21T20:19:00.001-07:002014-03-21T20:21:25.634-07:00Another Adventure at the Hospital with Dad
Dad is stuck in the hospital gerichair.
Photo by Pam Stephan
Last week, Dad was sluggish, coughing, sneezing, and dropping off to sleep in the afternoons. I thought it was because of seasonal allergies, which he has in spades. But when he suddenly got extra confused and unhappy, I checked his temperature and found he had a fever. Along with that, his blood pressure was climbing. His attentionPam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-80013190417341621422014-03-10T20:15:00.001-07:002014-03-10T20:15:26.276-07:00A Diagnosis of Dementia Changed My Dad's Life, And Mine
Pam, Dad, and Toto the Wonder Dog
Photo by Karl D. Stephan
Dad has dementia. In his case, that means that his short term memory has been fading away - in his case, slowly over the last 8 years, or maybe longer.
At first, he needed help with paying his bills, reading his bank statements, and remembering to keep appointments. He still drove himself around his hometown, did his own grooming, Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-72188864883045162522014-02-27T05:00:00.000-08:002014-06-22T16:53:23.141-07:00Love Endures Despite Dementia and Loss of the Loved One
Mom and Dad, 1946
Photographer unknown
On my father's side, the men only love once. And once they wed, they stand by their choice forever.
Country Sweethearts
Dad's parents were childhood sweethearts who lived on neighboring farms in rural Oklahoma. They grew up alongside each other, had the same friends, went to the same school. In 1923, at age 18 they got married. They stayed together 66 Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-31356275808285722492014-02-22T20:31:00.000-08:002014-03-07T08:34:04.260-08:00Bacon and Eggs and Memories with Daddy
Classic breakfast: Bacon, eggs, and toast!
Photo by Pam Stephan
Dad was the family's breakfast chef. Mom didn't like to get up early, and she never took us to school. That suited Dad fine, as he got up early to go to work anyway. He'd knock on our bedroom doors to wake us up, then head for the stove.
Rewind in Time:
My Dad and his brother grew up in a house where their father did the Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-19393296725380187972014-02-19T20:53:00.000-08:002014-02-19T20:53:06.361-08:00Humble Tasks: Footwashing
Dad gets a pedicure from me!
Photo by Karl Stephan
If Dad could see his feet, he would wash them, and if he could bend close enough to his toes, I am sure he would trim his nails. However, he has macular degeneration and a little arthritis, so getting down to his feet is not practical. After his feet had gone untended for a while they began to hurt. Dad seldom complains, so when he did gripe Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-84317299629552009362014-02-12T14:30:00.002-08:002014-02-12T14:33:02.071-08:00Two Bad Weeks: Falls, Flu, and a Funeral
Dad plays dominoes with me even while he's in the hospital!
Photo by Pam Stephan
I haven't been adding to this blog recently, because we all got very distracted with health issues. None of it was enjoyable, and while I moaned and complained about it, my husband kept saying, "Just think of the blog material you'll get out of this!" That should have made me feel a little better, but Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-79916837945799739212014-01-21T20:47:00.000-08:002014-02-22T20:44:26.273-08:00Doing The Weekly Dementia Pill Drill
Morning Pills and Evening Pills
Photo by Pam Stephan
Dad takes pills - 10 pills every day - as part of his daily routine. Sometimes he balks about taking them, but most of the time he just knocks them back five at a time with a slug of coffee. I feel fortunate as a dementia caregiver, because we haven't gotten to the point where he can't cope with taking more than one pill at aPam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-84583472328372993632014-01-15T16:18:00.001-08:002014-01-15T16:22:02.711-08:00Santa Sneaks up on Dad
Dad doesn't realize that Santa is coming to visit, until he hears a strange grinding noise. Indeed, Dad wasn't aware that Christmas was imminent, even though the tree was decorated and lights were up inside and out. Brightly wrapped packages were nearby and Christmas music was playing, but it didn't make any difference. Holidays are different, when dementia is in the house.Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-62160352101373332242014-01-13T17:18:00.000-08:002014-01-13T17:18:51.776-08:00Peace and Contentment in the Domino Zone
Dad (at right) plays 42 with other seniors.
Photo by Pam Stephan
At our house, we have a table that is devoted to dominoes. It gets used daily. When my husband comes home from work and I need a break from caregiving so I can make supper, my menfolk play dominoes. After supper, if there's nothing great on TV, the three of us play dominos. Sometimes we may watch half a hour of headline news andPam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-21491531902350642592014-01-05T20:36:00.001-08:002014-01-05T20:36:12.952-08:00Road Man: Going For A Ride With Dad
Dad goes for a ride.
Photo by Pam Stephan
Dad knows roads. His working life was full of surveying, building, designing, and traveling down roads and highways. He went to college after World War II on the G.I. bill, determined to become a civil engineer, a dream he was able to realize.
My father worked for the Texas Highway Department for 25 years. He worked his way up the hierarchy and Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-7976634797031728252013-12-29T19:34:00.000-08:002013-12-29T19:34:35.615-08:00Travel, Dementia, and Dogs
Toto the Wonder Dog warms Dad's lap.
Photo by Pam Stephan
When we travel with Dad, the dogs always travel with us. That means making reservations at dog-friendly hotels. La Quinta gets a lot of our business. We make a travel plan and the night before, we start packing. Bags are filled with clothes, pills, and electronics for the people. We bring snacks and sometimes drinks, in case we get Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-57871813858101534462013-12-11T20:35:00.000-08:002013-12-13T20:45:51.034-08:00Doing a Little Minor Surgery
First Aid Supplies came in handy one day.
Photo by Pam Stephan
Dad and I were playing dominoes one afternoon when I looked down at his sleeve and saw a bloody spot. I calmly asked him about it. He said he wasn't hurting any, but may have "leaked" a little. My father is a pretty macho guy and not admitting to pain is a longstanding feature of his character. However, since he developed atrial Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-1506673162260953452013-12-07T20:35:00.000-08:002013-12-07T20:35:35.647-08:00Breakfast: 2-OM, Saus, Bisc, DeCaf
Dad gets his regular breakfast at the café.
Photo: Pam Stephan
Dad likes the morning routine of going out to breakfast. In fact, he says it is his favorite meal of the day! We've been going to the same café every morning except Sundays for the last 7 years. There are some advantages to being a Café Regular.
A Café Regular rates high with the staff. A couple of the wait staff will set up a Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-68950281792012250802013-12-03T20:45:00.000-08:002013-12-03T20:45:45.751-08:00Changes and Transitions
Dad and I cross this bridge together.
Photo by Karl D. Stephan
I have stepped off of a cliff, or at least I feel like I have. It's not the first time that I've resigned from a job, but it is the first time I've quit because my personal life demanded more time than any professional duties.
Just before I started being my father's caregiver, I got a web-based job writing about breast cancer forPam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-59144794672987417952013-12-02T09:35:00.000-08:002014-02-22T14:56:06.003-08:00Being a Cut-Up
Dad lets me give him a haircut at home.
Photo by Karl. D. Stephan
SpongeDad Haircut, or Getting More Than He Thought!
Dad loves personal attention (who doesn't?) and he is a bit of a tightwad when it comes to barbers. He is still shocked that a professional haircut costs more than $2.50, so if we visit Rudy the Barber, it's always my treat.
My sister cuts her husband's hair, and Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5980811422212826591.post-20332000871364895582013-11-18T20:29:00.000-08:002014-02-22T20:44:53.516-08:00Senior Game Day
Playing 42 - Dad is wearing the blue ballcap.
Photo by Pam Stephan
Today we went to the Senior Game Day at the City Recreation Center. All you have to do is to be 55 or over and show up with some food item to share. Nobody checks to see if you brought anything though, but several people attend regularly and bring the same item weekly. We always bring something different, just because we are Pam Stephanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04258756344406477128noreply@blogger.com0