Hi folks!  Goes without saying, purrs to all, for whatever reason, who have
needed them since my departure on 12/10 for South Carolina.  I have RPCA
cards and a gift box (from Weebs, no doubt!) still to go through since I got
home this afternoon.  I'm tired, but I need to get this down before I rest
for the night.

A brief recap of my reasons for departure:  When I left on 12/10 we thought
my father was at death's door, truly.  He'd pretty much taken to his bed a
couple of weeks before and was barely eating enough to keep a fly alive.
And the first couple of days I was there I was pretty sure of that, myself.

I don't know what he weighs but if I had to hazard a guess I'd say *maybe*
80 lbs. (US measure).  Mom only weighs 78 lbs. herself, and that was after I
was there doing the cooking for a few weeks.  Frankly, they both look like
WWII concentration camp survivors.  But whereas Mom still has energy at age
81 to move around and do things, Dad moves in halting steps and hasn't got a
good sense of balance.  But by the time I left this morning even that had
improved somewhat.

After I'd been there a few days his appetite improved and he lost his
tendency to want to sleep all day, sitting up with us most of the day
watching television and talking to us.  Of course, what he was talking about
didn't make a lick of sense.  Mom gets frustrated when he keeps going on
about stuff and wants to yell at him to shut up.  Of course that doesn't
help.  I've done my best to convince her to just ignore him, especially when
he gets nasty (he calls her gutless and starts to cuss at her if she won't
go along with whatever the delusion of the moment is).  It's so sad.

But at least he knows who my mom is and *where* he is.  And for the most
part he says she's a great lady (or something to that affect, he suffers
from aphasia).

Sadly, he had *no idea* who I was during my entire visit.  That upset my mom
a lot; I expected it.  But Dad accepted me, even though he didn't know who I
was.  (He was very rude to the nurses from the hospice who tried to help Mom
out.)

What was more important is he was eating more (I kept a log of his daily
food intake and his mental and physical condition).  And he was at least
trying to interact with us.  I sort of served as a translator, since he'd
mention something and then hours later or the next day mention it again
(along with some unrelated subject) and I was able to piece together what he
was talking about... sort of.

I can certainly understand Mom's frustration.  And she's very lonely.  She
welcomed my company.  Someone to talk to who made sense :)  We had some
laughs; we watched some old movies and some sitcoms.  For years she'd only
watched the news and the History channel because Dad wouldn't watch anything
else.  Odd, now that he's not really cognizant he doesn't care what's on
television and Mom gets to watch movies and stuff.  Go figure.

I cooked for them while I was there.  While Dad didn't always eat what I
cooked, Mom gained 2 lbs!  Woo hoo!  They're both walking skeletons. (sigh)
But she also understood I needed to come home for now.

I'll try to figure out how to get back down there soon, this time driving
with Persia in my car.  That should be an adventure.  My brother Scott can
take care of Peaches.

Persia wasn't nearly as fussy when I brought her home as she normally is.
Sure, she complained on the way home from boarding but it was just low
meows.  When we got home she checked out the apartment (closets and all) and
only paced around for a little bit.  Then she started coming to me for
scritches, rubbing her face on my hand and rubbing all against my legs.  She
got up on our bed and took a quick nap.  Now she's behind me as I write
this, purring loudly and begging for more attention.  I'll give it to her!

Once again, purrs to all.  Oh, and in case I fall into a Rip Van Winkle
sleep for a few days (I am tired!!) Persia's Annifursary is coming up.
1/6/2008.  She came to my back door on 1/6/2001.

Hugs to all, and Happy New Year,

Jill