Its been a little rough since the surgery. Although physically the recovery is going well, my dad's "hospital psychosis" turned into "apartment psychosis" after returning home, and the first few days we were really worried that he wouldn't be able to be on his own due to all his confusion. His needs to use a walker to get around, has restriction on lifting and activity, as well as no driving for 6 weeks. Todd and I took turns driving to his place for the first few days to bring food and check in, and enlisted some other help. We thought as long as he had meals, tv, books, and people to check on him he'd be fine. But, of course nothing is ever perfect.
His third day home he called me from his cell phone and said "Are you playing tricks on me? Where is my car?" I freaked and said "WHERE ARE YOU?" He said " Standing by the front door of my building but I can't find my car" Taking on my parent role, I said "Get back to your apartment, call me when you get back in!" Long story short, he thought he was going to take a little trip to WalMart, but luckily had forgotten he'd moved his car out to a far back parking lot before the surgery. He seemed to know that he wasn't supposed to drive, but with his confusion, I don't know if he was trying to get away with something or if he just forgot his restrictions. He went back to his apartment and hasn't tried to drive since then (he still doesn't know his car is out back of the building, and we plan to keep it that way until he can drive again!)
Then this past Friday my brother (who helps my dad with his finances) saw that there were 3 charges over 2 days for a store around the corner from my dad's apartment. He called my dad and asked him if he somehow walked to the store, my dad said no. Then he asked him if he drove to the store, my dad said no. Finally after some beating around the bush, my dad admitted that he had given the complex manager his debit card to go buy him CIGARETTES!!!
I was infuriated when Todd told me this lovely tale. Because my dad has been a long time smoker, he had a terrible time in the hospital with coughing after the surgery, it was very very painful. They put him on the nicotine patch in the hospital and he told us he had no desire to smoke anymore, especially after all the coughing. So I was very disappointed to hear he was smoking again, for a million reasons, but mainly because he has CANCER!! So I turned into the Mom again, called my dad and scolded him. Then called the complex and left a message with the lovely manager to let her know that I didn't think it was professional or ethical of her to take a tenants debit card and buy him cigarettes. Especially since he has CANCER! Not sure if I'll get a return call.
The distance has made my role as my dad's helper a little tricky during recovery. There have been lots of phone calls at weird hours of the day from my dad, daily phone calls to remind him to take his meds, and trips back & forth to Norwich to bring food, and to help clean. This is going to be a long road, and I'm trying to figure out how to settle in.
P.S. I'm finding yelling about cancer and typing cancer in all caps very therapeutic!
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