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I'll Be Scarce For a While

I won't be writing much in the next couple of weeks. I will be staying at my elderly dad's house, taking care of him. I've written before of him but he is to the point where all he can do is sit, watch NorthwestCable News, shuffle to the table and eat food.

The problem is that I (and my sibs) don't know how much of it is sincere and how much is played up to keep someone there with him. I feel like a shit for getting annoyed with him but I hear him walking with his walker upstairs at a decent pace yet if I or my brother are in the same room it as though he can barely move.

I have no doubt that his 87 year-old back is frail and failing. I have no doubt that he is aching, slow, and tired from a life of farming as a child, serving in WWII, raising a BIG family, putting up with the punkass shit I pulled as a teen and young adult, burying a son and a wife, etc... I have no doubt that he is afraid of dying yet terrified of living on with what is happening to his mind and body. I KNOW he is fucking old.

The problem is, however, that when he talks to a doctor or nurse he becomes like a senile old helpless man. He can't understand the simplest of question. He can't fucking MOVE yet when we get to the car to drive home he speaks rationally and comes back to life.

My brother who lives with him most of the time is going out of town to do a job. All of a sudden my father needs to go to the doctor EVERY day. We spent this morning in the ER. At home he took his new, stronger pain meds and was walking and talking and joking. When my brother arrived he instantly went into frail mode. We think he's trying to guilt my brother into staying home.

I have to give him the benefit of the doubt. I feel like a clod. I think he's faking some or most of it. I feel disgusted when I do his laundry or wash his raised toilet seat. I feel like a piece of shit for feeling that way and try to project myself in 40 or 50 years and have empathy. It's hard.

As I stay at his house for the next few weeks I will not write to much on EBW. The house sucks my spirit from me. I joked in a PM to dirtysanchez that I believe my dad actually died and is staying animated with energy from my life force. It weakens me but is just enough to keep his heart and lungs working.

Sanchez advised me to buy him a hooker.

I will pop in to read stuff and maybe write an occasional quick bloggette. ugdork~

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