Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Time out

When in critical care units, elderly folk sometimes get a little crazy.  Or a lot crazy.  When one is a little crazy to start with, it can be . . . really interesting.  And not always in a funny way.  My father does not suffer from dementia, but he is a little crazy.  At the best of times, he manages OK.  He's able to find the pause button.

The past two days, not so much.  While he has a better side, can be quite engaging and charming, he also has a mean side.  With the "ICU psychosis" going on, he doesn't bother with the pause button.

He is very angry today at me; and being very mean about it.  While I know this is about him, and not about me, still it ain't easy to take for long.  He has dismissed me from court; "get your queer ass outta here."  Oh, well, OK.

The angry looks, and words, and gestures are all coming from his anger over life, the universe, and everything.  It's not about me.  In fact, I have been told that I have a really nice queer ass of which to be proud. (That is not an observation he has made, nor do I wish to hear from him).

Nonetheless, I need to take care of me.  While my head understands, my heart hurts.  The well-trained, very kind, and competent staff in the critical care unit can take of him for now.  I'm taking care of me.


The Favorite Things Guy said...

I am so sorry that happened. Some people can be cruel with their words. Huge hugs and remember those who love you just the way you are, my friend. =)

Jeffrey Rich said...

You DO have a very cute queer ass, and the most beautiful queer heart, too, one that I'm very fond of. Well, all of you, really.

Sorry that this is manifesting itself like this for you. There are many of us standing with you here :-)


Raven~ said...

What JeffeRay said :-) ...
all of what he said :-) ;-) ...

All of us are standing here with/for you, Big Ol'Bear

And you are taking care of yourself not a moment too soon

Unka R~

Birdie said...

My mother spent her last months bitterly angry with me, and she never forgave me for putting her in the managed care facility. Thing is, I had nothing to do with it—but I never said a word. I mourned the mother I knew before those last months, the one who laughed with me and enjoyed our time together. This was someone else, and making that separation helped when I was present for the resentful remarks and pulling away when I reached out to touch.

Your father is still in there. Remember the one you love and hold dear. You are not the target of his anger so much as life is—the life he misses and cannot have again.