I wish I knew the reason. It might be worth a book and some money if I could find out why and publish a study on it. I hope it is genetic - it would be a great trait to inherit! Of what do I speak? My dad is insanely healthy! He amazes his friends and his doctors. Dad is 90. He takes one prescription medicine a day, and we're not convinced he really needs it. He takes Galantamine., which is used to treat symptoms of Alzheimer's. Dad has been on the drug since his diagnosis. The disease hasn't progressed too terribly quickly and Dad seems to be holding steady with his memory issues. So, either the drug is working quite effectively or he doesn't have Alzheimer's. Other than that, Dad tries to remember to take an 81mg aspirin, Vitamin E and calcium daily. I put the OTC pills in a monthly dispenser box and Dad keeps the Galantamine on the dining table with a small calendar. Each day when he takes it he crosses off the day. He's usually very good at remembering to do this.... but he does forget the vitamins now and then. I'm not particularly worried!
So, if I ever discover the secret... I'll let you in on it!
Monday, October 24, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Groundhog Day
Have you ever watched the movie, "Groundhog Day"? In the movie, Bill Murray plays the part of a weatherman who finds himself repeating Groundhog Day over and over again. He follows the same actions and has the same conversations. Sometimes when I am having a conversation with Dad I feel like I am caught in some sort of time warp, just like in the movie.
Today Dad called me about 'the letter'. This is a letter that his lawyer sent to his ex-wife's lawyer almost a week ago. Dad wanted to know if I had seen 'the letter':
"Yes, Dad, I've seen the letter. The lawyer sent me an email with a copy of the letter."
"But this isn't the same letter. It's missing something," Dad states as he is apparently looking at the letter.
"What is it missing, Dad?"
"There used to be a chart with some prices and I don't see that now. All I see is the letter. "
After getting on Dad's computer via screen sharing....
"OK, Dad, this is 'the letter', I say as I swirl the cursor around the letter that was already displayed on the screen.
"Yes, I see the letter. But where is the chart?"
"The chart is a separate document. If we go back to your email from the lawyer," I say, as I am showing him on his computer, "you can see the documents he sent to her lawyer. Here's the letter," I say as I circle the cursor around the .pdf file, "here's the chart." I again circle the cursor around the .pdf file for the chart.
"Oh, yes. I see. Thank you. So, the chart is a different document?"
"Yes, Dad."
"OK. I got it," states Dad.
"But, where is the letter?" asks Dad.
At this point I'm not quite sure what he means by 'where': Where is it physically? Where is it stored on his computer? Whether it has it been sent, and so forth. So after a few questions and some demonstration on the computer, I show him where the letter is filed in his documents and where the letter exists in his email. While we were doing this I clicked the buttons to have the letter printed at his home. I let Dad know that I have printed out the letter so he can have a paper copy. Dad turns to his printer, and happily exclaims, "Oh, yes. Here it is. How did you do that?! This is wonderful."
But then, Dad's voice sounds puzzled.
"But, where is the chart? I don't see the chart that was with the letter."
So we begin the cycle again.
This is very frustrating for me. I have learned to bite my tongue and refrain from saying something like, "I already told you that the chart is a different document!" I have learned to not to show my frustration or even anger in my voice as I direct him to the letter, explain that the chart is a separate document, and so forth. I want to maintain his dignity. He doesn't remember that he has already asked these questions. He doesn't seem to remember my answers. I figure that, through repetition, the important points might stick or through redirection I can focus Dad's attention on something that may have greater relevance to his life.
Today Dad called me about 'the letter'. This is a letter that his lawyer sent to his ex-wife's lawyer almost a week ago. Dad wanted to know if I had seen 'the letter':
"Yes, Dad, I've seen the letter. The lawyer sent me an email with a copy of the letter."
"But this isn't the same letter. It's missing something," Dad states as he is apparently looking at the letter.
"What is it missing, Dad?"
"There used to be a chart with some prices and I don't see that now. All I see is the letter. "
After getting on Dad's computer via screen sharing....
"OK, Dad, this is 'the letter', I say as I swirl the cursor around the letter that was already displayed on the screen.
"Yes, I see the letter. But where is the chart?"
"The chart is a separate document. If we go back to your email from the lawyer," I say, as I am showing him on his computer, "you can see the documents he sent to her lawyer. Here's the letter," I say as I circle the cursor around the .pdf file, "here's the chart." I again circle the cursor around the .pdf file for the chart.
"Oh, yes. I see. Thank you. So, the chart is a different document?"
"Yes, Dad."
"OK. I got it," states Dad.
"But, where is the letter?" asks Dad.
At this point I'm not quite sure what he means by 'where': Where is it physically? Where is it stored on his computer? Whether it has it been sent, and so forth. So after a few questions and some demonstration on the computer, I show him where the letter is filed in his documents and where the letter exists in his email. While we were doing this I clicked the buttons to have the letter printed at his home. I let Dad know that I have printed out the letter so he can have a paper copy. Dad turns to his printer, and happily exclaims, "Oh, yes. Here it is. How did you do that?! This is wonderful."
But then, Dad's voice sounds puzzled.
"But, where is the chart? I don't see the chart that was with the letter."
So we begin the cycle again.
This is very frustrating for me. I have learned to bite my tongue and refrain from saying something like, "I already told you that the chart is a different document!" I have learned to not to show my frustration or even anger in my voice as I direct him to the letter, explain that the chart is a separate document, and so forth. I want to maintain his dignity. He doesn't remember that he has already asked these questions. He doesn't seem to remember my answers. I figure that, through repetition, the important points might stick or through redirection I can focus Dad's attention on something that may have greater relevance to his life.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Computer Woes
My father studied Engineering and has always loved gadgets. So it was natural that when personal computers came along, he was one of the first to have one. My husband and I were also early adopters of technology and our children were raised on PC's.
I am not certain what it is about Engineers, but it seems they can't just let things be. They have to tinker with it, and change settings and dig down into the nuts and bolts to see what happens if.....
Computers are no different! My father would often go into something like the registry and change settings, and the computer would come to a screeching halt. Or, he'd go into Explorer and move things and then not know where to look for them. Or he'd delete items because he thought they were superfluous. As our sons became better at understanding the workings of computers than my husband and myself, they became the 'go to' guys when Grandpa did something to his computer. They became very adept at finding the solutions, but they were always very frustrated and would make themselves scarce when it came time to bail Grandpa out of his latest mess.
I think we were all somewhat relieved when my dad switched from a PC to Apple. We could honestly say that we couldn't help him because we were unfamiliar with Mac computers. But recently, that has changed. I have been getting an increasing number of phone calls about problems my father is having using his computer: about his printer not working, about a document he can't find, about having trouble using the Internet, or about an email problem. I try to talk him through each step to help him proceed, but with my inability to 'see' his screen and his difficulty understanding what I'm asking him to do, and my failure to break things down into small enough steps, and my unfamiliarity with the Mac platform, it just doesn't work. We both get extremely frustrated. I am forced to put him off for usually until the next day, before I can get up to his apartment to try to help him.
I was talking to my oldest son, who works in the computer industry, asking if he knew of some reasonably priced software that would allow me to have remote access to Dad's computer. My son let me know that Mac's have video chat and screen sharing capabilities built into them. Wow! A perfect solution. I purchased a MacBook computer and it has been worth every penny I spent on it.
Today was yet another example of the power of these applications. I received a call from Dad because he wanted to send something to a friend, but his all-in-one printer/fax/copier wasn't hooked up to fax. I began a screen sharing session with him. From the comfort of my living room I was able to access his computer. I was able to help dad scan the documents he wanted to send, open and write an email, attach the scanned documents and send them.
Earlier this week Dad called because he 'lost' his address book. Again, in a matter of minutes, I was sharing his screen and could search for the address book and place the icon back in the dock.
The iChat feature of the Mac has given us many opportunities to work together to solve problems through screen sharing and to simply chat, face to face. We have been loving it!
I am not certain what it is about Engineers, but it seems they can't just let things be. They have to tinker with it, and change settings and dig down into the nuts and bolts to see what happens if.....
Computers are no different! My father would often go into something like the registry and change settings, and the computer would come to a screeching halt. Or, he'd go into Explorer and move things and then not know where to look for them. Or he'd delete items because he thought they were superfluous. As our sons became better at understanding the workings of computers than my husband and myself, they became the 'go to' guys when Grandpa did something to his computer. They became very adept at finding the solutions, but they were always very frustrated and would make themselves scarce when it came time to bail Grandpa out of his latest mess.
I think we were all somewhat relieved when my dad switched from a PC to Apple. We could honestly say that we couldn't help him because we were unfamiliar with Mac computers. But recently, that has changed. I have been getting an increasing number of phone calls about problems my father is having using his computer: about his printer not working, about a document he can't find, about having trouble using the Internet, or about an email problem. I try to talk him through each step to help him proceed, but with my inability to 'see' his screen and his difficulty understanding what I'm asking him to do, and my failure to break things down into small enough steps, and my unfamiliarity with the Mac platform, it just doesn't work. We both get extremely frustrated. I am forced to put him off for usually until the next day, before I can get up to his apartment to try to help him.
I was talking to my oldest son, who works in the computer industry, asking if he knew of some reasonably priced software that would allow me to have remote access to Dad's computer. My son let me know that Mac's have video chat and screen sharing capabilities built into them. Wow! A perfect solution. I purchased a MacBook computer and it has been worth every penny I spent on it.
Today was yet another example of the power of these applications. I received a call from Dad because he wanted to send something to a friend, but his all-in-one printer/fax/copier wasn't hooked up to fax. I began a screen sharing session with him. From the comfort of my living room I was able to access his computer. I was able to help dad scan the documents he wanted to send, open and write an email, attach the scanned documents and send them.
Earlier this week Dad called because he 'lost' his address book. Again, in a matter of minutes, I was sharing his screen and could search for the address book and place the icon back in the dock.
The iChat feature of the Mac has given us many opportunities to work together to solve problems through screen sharing and to simply chat, face to face. We have been loving it!
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Color My World
Dad moved into an apartment at a continuing care retirement community late last fall. I really liked the apartment he selected. In many ways I like it better than his previous place and it's only slightly smaller.
The apartment has tile floors in the halls, living area, bathrooms and kitchen. The bedrooms and an office are carpeted in beige. The kitchen is small, but for Dad, that's not an issue. The previous tenant had upgraded to cherry cabinets, granite counter tops and stainless appliances by Frigidaire. Dad was pleased. Most of the apartments we toured have GE appliances and for whatever reason, Dad thinks GE appliances 'stink'. The walls throughout the apartment were white. Stark white. I suggested painting. Dad said no. He said he likes the white walls. Along comes Barbara. She is the resident move-in assistant and decorator. She is young and cute. Barbara suggests picking out some colors for the walls. Dad readily agrees! So, now you know where my opinion ranks next to that ofothers cute girls!
We met Barbara at the apartment. I've brought some pillows from couches and chairs that Dad plans to move. We pick out a soft, light moss green for the walls in the living area. The color is the same as his sofa, just toned down a few notches. We pick out a light beige for his office. Most of the time Dad has been saying the colors Barbara or I suggest are too strong. Too bright. Too much. We walk into the kitchen. Dad flips though the color wheel book and points to a red. "How about this?" he asks. Had you been there you would have heard two thuds as both my jaw and Barbara's hit the floor. We settle on a brick red, sort of paprika, to go on the two walls with the cabinets. Dad agreed that the two other walls would look nice in the same beige as his office. On to the bedrooms. Again, Dad surprises us with his choices. He picks a bright spring green for his bedroom. He selects a 'Pepto-Bismal' pink for the guest room. I suggest that he may want to think of something more along the melon side of the spectrum as his rugs and furniture are all soft green, beige, gold and/or peach. So, he picks out a shade of pumpkin orange. I thought it looked great on the color chip...
Dad's apartment was painted before he moved in. What an improvement over white! Unbelievably, every one of his rugs fits somewhere in the apartment. The rugs and his upholstered furniture coordinate well with the wall colors - how uncanny! One of his rugs has designs that exactly match the bright, spring green of his bedroom. Another rug has features that actually mimic the orange in the guest room.
So, Dad has settled in. I've had the opportunity to spend the night a few times. The only question that remains is just where do I purchase eye shades so that the neon bright, glowing orange of the bedroom doesn't keep me awake by pulsing through my closed eyelids?!! The guest room is wild! It glows! I joke with Dad that he will effectively cut his electric light bill in half, as the bright color lights up the rest of the apartment.
Color Dad happy!
The apartment has tile floors in the halls, living area, bathrooms and kitchen. The bedrooms and an office are carpeted in beige. The kitchen is small, but for Dad, that's not an issue. The previous tenant had upgraded to cherry cabinets, granite counter tops and stainless appliances by Frigidaire. Dad was pleased. Most of the apartments we toured have GE appliances and for whatever reason, Dad thinks GE appliances 'stink'. The walls throughout the apartment were white. Stark white. I suggested painting. Dad said no. He said he likes the white walls. Along comes Barbara. She is the resident move-in assistant and decorator. She is young and cute. Barbara suggests picking out some colors for the walls. Dad readily agrees! So, now you know where my opinion ranks next to that of
We met Barbara at the apartment. I've brought some pillows from couches and chairs that Dad plans to move. We pick out a soft, light moss green for the walls in the living area. The color is the same as his sofa, just toned down a few notches. We pick out a light beige for his office. Most of the time Dad has been saying the colors Barbara or I suggest are too strong. Too bright. Too much. We walk into the kitchen. Dad flips though the color wheel book and points to a red. "How about this?" he asks. Had you been there you would have heard two thuds as both my jaw and Barbara's hit the floor. We settle on a brick red, sort of paprika, to go on the two walls with the cabinets. Dad agreed that the two other walls would look nice in the same beige as his office. On to the bedrooms. Again, Dad surprises us with his choices. He picks a bright spring green for his bedroom. He selects a 'Pepto-Bismal' pink for the guest room. I suggest that he may want to think of something more along the melon side of the spectrum as his rugs and furniture are all soft green, beige, gold and/or peach. So, he picks out a shade of pumpkin orange. I thought it looked great on the color chip...
Dad's apartment was painted before he moved in. What an improvement over white! Unbelievably, every one of his rugs fits somewhere in the apartment. The rugs and his upholstered furniture coordinate well with the wall colors - how uncanny! One of his rugs has designs that exactly match the bright, spring green of his bedroom. Another rug has features that actually mimic the orange in the guest room.
So, Dad has settled in. I've had the opportunity to spend the night a few times. The only question that remains is just where do I purchase eye shades so that the neon bright, glowing orange of the bedroom doesn't keep me awake by pulsing through my closed eyelids?!! The guest room is wild! It glows! I joke with Dad that he will effectively cut his electric light bill in half, as the bright color lights up the rest of the apartment.
Color Dad happy!
Monday, August 22, 2011
Getting Up To Speed
Oh, I have failed miserably at keeping up my blog - and I do have lots to say, I just don't get around to it. Maybe I can do a better job from this point forward and get a weekly post published. I would love to do this so that looking back I'd have the stories of Dad in one place, and I can chronicle his later years.
So... here's what's happened:
- Dad is living in an independent living community and he loves it. He likes the fact that there is food available, people to talk to and things going on. He finds it hard to call maintenance to deal with minor issues and he has yet to relinquish his huge tool box crammed with just about every tool imaginable.
- Dad is still dealing with legal issues over his divorce from my step-mother.
- Dad has found a girl friend, in her mid-70's, and she is going to relinquish her apartment in the community and move in with him. We like her a lot, but wish they would take a bit more time to make sure this is what they both want. My dad reminds me that he doesn't have time!
- I purchased Dad's car from him. He occasionally comments that he misses driving, or more likely, he misses the independence of driving himself, but he is basically quite content. My life has been very hectic as of late, but things should calm down a bit so I can spend more time with my dad and his 'girl'!
- Dad's mental status seems to be on hold. He has his good moments and his bad moments. Some days he understands that he isn't firing on all cylinders! Some days he can't hold onto a piece of information for even the briefest moment, while other days he is much sharper.
- My husband and I have finished (for the time being) renovating a house we found closer to my dad. We moved in recently and our former house has just sold. We are busy moving the remaining furniture and household goods and preparing the hold house for its new owners.
We brought Dad and his woman-friend out to our new house last night for a picnic. My son and his girl friend came as well. We all had a great time - despite the disarray at our house. The movers came the day before and we have boxes and furniture, unpacked items, and pictures all over the place. But, it was fun to entertain and fun to spend some time together as a family! And, as my son pointed out, we finally have more than three chairs - we have so many chairs now, our guests have choices!
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Christmas Card Confusion
The day before the movers were coming, in October, my dad announced that he'd like my help....with his Christmas cards! I do have to admire him for thinking and planning ahead, but this was a bit too much. I'm wondering if Dad was so overwhelmed with packing and the prospect of moving that doing Christmas cards seemed like a safer, more predictable activity. Anyway, I helped dad pack the cards and redirected him for the moment.
Earlier this week Dad and I got back to his cards. He had a pile of cards he had received in previous years and he had an address list for "Christmas" on his computer. He would tell me who he wanted to send a card to, and I would find the address and print out an envelope. We ran out of Christmas cards, having used up all of the leftovers from three previous years. Dad seemed to obsess about this and kept looking through the card box. Yes, there were cards, but they were general greeting cards (some of which we used) and Birthday cards. He had a hard time, a very hard time, letting go and moving on to something else. We put the cards aside and I went on home, promising to come up another day with more cards and copies of a Christmas letter we had crafted together.
The next day I had three calls from Dad. First, he had to tell me he found a pile of cards from previous years and he was worried that we hadn't made cards to send to these particular folks. He was quite insistent. I asked him to look inside the cards to see if he could see "done" written in them. Since he had been shuffling through the cards as I addressed the envelopes I had begun to mark them in this way. Yes, he saw "done", so he was put at ease. About fifteen minutes later he called me about the Christmas cards again. He was upset that we hadn't finished them. He could only find three cards, oh, and by the way, how super of me to put stamps on them. I had not put stamps on any of the cards. Then it dawned on me that we had made out cards for three family members and had prepared them for mailing. Dad had found those particular cards and not the others that were waiting for his Christmas letter. I explained this to Dad. He had a hard time understanding me when I told him that someplace there was a pile of other cards that we would finish when I returned. He was pretty adamant that we had only done three cards. A bit later he called a third time. This time he told me that he had a pile of cards and envelopes. He was confused about why they weren't sealed and stamped.
All three calls came less than 30 minutes apart. Dad was acting like a car spinning its wheels in the mud. He was working very hard at this and wasn't getting anywhere. He was stuck. This 'stuckness' is also called perseveration and it is a behavior related to the disease. It will help me to find ways to redirect Dad when he gets caught up in a cycle. This time I reminded him that we hadn't finished the cards and I would be up the next day to help him. I guess that was enough to help him move on as I didn't get another call.
The next day I returned and we finished the cards. They are signed, sealed and on their way to delivery.
One of my biggest frustrations in trying to help is that when Dad calls I can't see what he is talking about. Sometimes it is something on his computer screen. Other times, like with the cards, it is something he has in his hand. He sometimes has a tough time giving me enough accurate details for me to 'see' what he has. I have begun to research remote access software that would allow me to tune into Dad's computer to see his screen. I also realized that we might be able to set Dad up with iChat. In that way he could show me what is in his hands.
Earlier this week Dad and I got back to his cards. He had a pile of cards he had received in previous years and he had an address list for "Christmas" on his computer. He would tell me who he wanted to send a card to, and I would find the address and print out an envelope. We ran out of Christmas cards, having used up all of the leftovers from three previous years. Dad seemed to obsess about this and kept looking through the card box. Yes, there were cards, but they were general greeting cards (some of which we used) and Birthday cards. He had a hard time, a very hard time, letting go and moving on to something else. We put the cards aside and I went on home, promising to come up another day with more cards and copies of a Christmas letter we had crafted together.
The next day I had three calls from Dad. First, he had to tell me he found a pile of cards from previous years and he was worried that we hadn't made cards to send to these particular folks. He was quite insistent. I asked him to look inside the cards to see if he could see "done" written in them. Since he had been shuffling through the cards as I addressed the envelopes I had begun to mark them in this way. Yes, he saw "done", so he was put at ease. About fifteen minutes later he called me about the Christmas cards again. He was upset that we hadn't finished them. He could only find three cards, oh, and by the way, how super of me to put stamps on them. I had not put stamps on any of the cards. Then it dawned on me that we had made out cards for three family members and had prepared them for mailing. Dad had found those particular cards and not the others that were waiting for his Christmas letter. I explained this to Dad. He had a hard time understanding me when I told him that someplace there was a pile of other cards that we would finish when I returned. He was pretty adamant that we had only done three cards. A bit later he called a third time. This time he told me that he had a pile of cards and envelopes. He was confused about why they weren't sealed and stamped.
All three calls came less than 30 minutes apart. Dad was acting like a car spinning its wheels in the mud. He was working very hard at this and wasn't getting anywhere. He was stuck. This 'stuckness' is also called perseveration and it is a behavior related to the disease. It will help me to find ways to redirect Dad when he gets caught up in a cycle. This time I reminded him that we hadn't finished the cards and I would be up the next day to help him. I guess that was enough to help him move on as I didn't get another call.
The next day I returned and we finished the cards. They are signed, sealed and on their way to delivery.
One of my biggest frustrations in trying to help is that when Dad calls I can't see what he is talking about. Sometimes it is something on his computer screen. Other times, like with the cards, it is something he has in his hand. He sometimes has a tough time giving me enough accurate details for me to 'see' what he has. I have begun to research remote access software that would allow me to tune into Dad's computer to see his screen. I also realized that we might be able to set Dad up with iChat. In that way he could show me what is in his hands.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Mr. Toad's Wild Ride
Dad wants to drive. He doesn't like interfering with my schedule, or that of my son, to have us take him places. Although he can afford it, he doesn't like paying a taxi to take him out. And even though he's found he can easily walk to stores to get whatever he needs, he wants to drive. He wants the independence. He doesn't want to admit to his failings and he wants to be a normal guy. I think that in America cars are highly symbolic of virility and strength.
In March Dad had his driving evaluated by an occupational therapy organization that routinely evaluates driving ability. The recommendation was that Dad not drive. A report was sent to his Doctor. Dad stopped driving. When Dad decided to divorce my step-mother he also decided he needed to be able to drive again. Although he hadn't actually lost his license, as nothing was submitted to the State, he requested a re-evaluation from the Department of Motor Vehicles. Dad studied for the written test and he passed both it and the driving test. Dad began driving again.
Do I think Dad should be driving....I'm not sure. I worry that he will suddenly realize that he needs to turn and he won't check to see if other cars are in his way. I worry that he will be distracted by trying to change the heat setting or radio, and won't see another vehicle/person/road barrier until too late. It used to be that I didn't worry about him getting lost, but now that he's moved and is in unfamiliar neighborhoods, that actually has happened. Dad decided he needed a battery from Radio Shack. He printed out a map from Google to locate the store but had a hard time getting there anyway. Evidently he mentioned to the clerk that he had gotten lost on his way to the store and perhaps he made a comment about his concern about getting home. A customer in the store, one who obviously has some angel wings hidden under his jacket, led Dad back to his apartment. The good news is that Dad was frightened enough by this experience that he hasn't driven since.
Dad's car has a GPS system built into it. I'm not familiar with how it operates and I keep promising myself that I will sit in the car, program the GPS for 'Home' and then write basic instructions for Dad to operate the system. Dad's iPhone also has a map program and he can get directons on that. However, it too takes many steps that Dad can't seem to remember. I could write step-by-step instructions for using that as well. But, I haven't done either of these things. I guess my procrastination is rooted in my conflicted emotions regarding his driving.
This week Dad got a letter from the Department of Motor Vehicles asking him to turn in his license. Apparently the Doctor finally submitted the report from March with the recommendations that he no longer drive. Dad wants a hearing. Out of principle, I agree with him. In practice, I think I'm happiest with someone outside of the family making the decision. A decision that probably is the best for my dad.
In March Dad had his driving evaluated by an occupational therapy organization that routinely evaluates driving ability. The recommendation was that Dad not drive. A report was sent to his Doctor. Dad stopped driving. When Dad decided to divorce my step-mother he also decided he needed to be able to drive again. Although he hadn't actually lost his license, as nothing was submitted to the State, he requested a re-evaluation from the Department of Motor Vehicles. Dad studied for the written test and he passed both it and the driving test. Dad began driving again.
Do I think Dad should be driving....I'm not sure. I worry that he will suddenly realize that he needs to turn and he won't check to see if other cars are in his way. I worry that he will be distracted by trying to change the heat setting or radio, and won't see another vehicle/person/road barrier until too late. It used to be that I didn't worry about him getting lost, but now that he's moved and is in unfamiliar neighborhoods, that actually has happened. Dad decided he needed a battery from Radio Shack. He printed out a map from Google to locate the store but had a hard time getting there anyway. Evidently he mentioned to the clerk that he had gotten lost on his way to the store and perhaps he made a comment about his concern about getting home. A customer in the store, one who obviously has some angel wings hidden under his jacket, led Dad back to his apartment. The good news is that Dad was frightened enough by this experience that he hasn't driven since.
Dad's car has a GPS system built into it. I'm not familiar with how it operates and I keep promising myself that I will sit in the car, program the GPS for 'Home' and then write basic instructions for Dad to operate the system. Dad's iPhone also has a map program and he can get directons on that. However, it too takes many steps that Dad can't seem to remember. I could write step-by-step instructions for using that as well. But, I haven't done either of these things. I guess my procrastination is rooted in my conflicted emotions regarding his driving.
This week Dad got a letter from the Department of Motor Vehicles asking him to turn in his license. Apparently the Doctor finally submitted the report from March with the recommendations that he no longer drive. Dad wants a hearing. Out of principle, I agree with him. In practice, I think I'm happiest with someone outside of the family making the decision. A decision that probably is the best for my dad.
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