Cleanliness is Next to Godliness

Greetings readers,
It has been too long since my last blog and I do apologize. There is no excuse. However, (as I look over my shoulder to see if anyone is watching) I shouldn't even be writing this now. I am well into the depths of studying for my Final exams. For those of you unaware I have returned to school with a vengeance. I have three more semesters remaining until I receive my Bachelor's degree in Math Education. But as my sister Mary Ellard might say, that is 'Neither Here Nor There' (that is a plug for my sister Mary's humorous blog).

But I digress.

All is fine on Brunswick Road. The weather has cooled tremendously, the season of winter now truly feels like it is upon us. The houses on the road are adorned with lights and garland and a variety of other seasonal accoutrement. We have only had one small snow this season thus far, and yesterday yielded an icy rain that lasted the evening. Note to self, we need more salt.

Dad has been faring well with his radiation therapy. He has diligently attending to his daily 3pm sessions (with a break on the weekends) for 4 weeks now. He has two weeks remaining in his therapy regime. He has not complained of any significant side effects. Aside from a little fatigue and a slight decrease in appetite he is hold up wonderfully. He is able to baby his fatigue by doing what he enjoys doing, reading. On occasion a nap might find itself into his world, but it is on the very rare occasion that this occurs. And for his slight decrease in appetite, we have increased the soup menu and he is drinking an Ensure now and then to maintain his dietary requirements of vitamins and minerals.

What has been causing Dad considerable angst over the last week has been this annoying cough which as surfaced. When I hear the fits begin, they sound like they hurt. He assures me they don't. However, despite his claim, his coughing sessions are lengthy and elicit a sympathy and I have no control over this new found physical ache that my father is now feeling. This must be how a parent feels when a child is ill and you need to wait it out. We are now trying to identify the cause. He went to the doctor's on Wednesday and he was assured that it was not in his lungs, but to rule out pneumonia, it was suggested that he get an x-ray to confirm this. Dad declined that suggestion saying that he has had so many x-rays as of late that this might begin to be unhealthy. Two days later, and several exhaustive coughing spells later, he succumbed. On Friday he had the x-rays taken. They did confirm that Dad's lungs were clear. Now we are exploring any other causes of this painful nuisance. Dad deduced that what is left falls in the family of his asthma. We talk about the dust in the house due to the dry heat from the oil furnace frequently. There will be investigations into how to reduce that.
Vacuuming and dusting are performed frequently.

I must confide, though, I am fearful that despite Gracie's limited access to Dad (only when I am not in the house and my bedroom door is closed) and the cat being in only the top two floors of the house, that this might be triggered by the animals. So, in a valiant effort to prove that Dad can co-habitate with me and my pets without it causing him physical harm, I have thoroughly eliminated whatever dust and hair I can from the house. Wash, rinse, repeat. I feel that with most recent cold spell, and with Dad's infrequent visits out of the house, his situation in further exacerbated. Perhaps we can int ice Dad to take a short walk now and then. It builds character!

He is testing the environment a bit by taking leave and staying with Bobbie for a couple of days. If his cough lessons, we deduce that the agent causing his fits is in the house; whether it is the heat, an allergic reaction to something in the house or the animals.

Other than that, life on Brunswick Road is somewhat uneventful.

Much love,
Katherine

A Mole Hill Out Of a Mountain

Greetings All,
It has been quite some time. This absence has in no way been due to lack of material. Living with my Dad, or shall I say, my Dad living with me gives us daily doses of fun facts, embarrassing episodes, forgetful fancies, countless clutsy moments, freaky food finds, backyard bounces and all the wonderment that comic literary gold is made of. But alas, I must choose wisely - to keep you entertained, engaged and always wanting more.

Let me catch you up on Dad's medical up-to-now: Just a review, last we spoke of Dad he had his operation to remove a lump under his arm. It was a successful operation. Dad went home the next day with a drain attached to keep the fluids from building up under his arm. Sleep was difficult and Dad was often uncomfortable. A week later the doctor removed the drain and said the body should begin to naturally drain the excess fluid. Dad felt tremendous relief and even his sleep was improving.

Now, I must say, that just because I live with this man, it does not mean that he keeps me any more informed than the rest of you living hours away. I found this out at the beginning of this week when Dad mentioned - by the by - that he had a doctor's appointment to discuss his radiation therapy. Huh? Your what? Your when? But, didn't you? Oh did I forget? Did you tell me this? Well, let's pretend that I knew - and I acted as if it was not a big deal that I didn't....

Conversation from my side only:
Okay Dad. What time is your appointment?
Oh at 3pm, would you like me to drive you?
No, okay, you sure?
Well, what are you having done?
Oh, just a conversation to determine what is next, oh, okay....well you sure you do not want me to come? Oh, okay - I have to leave for school - I probably won't see you.
Dad leaves (stage right Uncle Jimmy).
What, home so soon - alright, tell me everything.
What did they do? They drew on your chest? Oh to mark the spot for the actual radiation. Okay, so when do you go back?
Alright, dry run on Friday - why do they do a dry run? Oh to just rehearse the procedure with you.
Okay - and then what?
Radiation therapy every day -five days a week for four weeks. Is that it? Radiation therapy DAILY FOR FOUR WEEKS?!

I wonder if I hadn't run into him the day he had his appointment if he would have ever fessed up?

Okay, so now, he had his run through - it went well, quickly too - it could have been a drive-run through they did it so quickly. They took pictures of him to make sure that they didn't perform radiation therapy on Wilma Groden - and have Dad go through the appendectomy Wilma had scheduled.

Dad begins his therapy on Monday.
I have included a link to a page that briefly summarizes the administering of radiation therapy and the short and long term side effects.

http://www.webmd.com/cancer/tc/radiation-therapy-for-cancer-topic-overview

So, other news...
MYTH - Dad does not eat.
FACT - Dad eats, quite a bit, and often.

In fact at 11pm this evening - as I was just checking in on Facebook pals, I hear the pitter patter of little footsteps creaking down the stairs (Dad was asleep hours earlier). I then hear the microwave. This is a usual nightly thing. Dad making a late night food run. Just a little snack to tide him over. He leaves signs for the next morning. A fork in the sink. The microwave stopped within seconds of completing its cooking. Crumbs on the counter. He would not make a good burgular.

When I first arrived at 141 Brunswick - I noticed that Dad had 3-4 small plastic food containers from Foodtown (our local supermarket)in his refridgerator - along with a few pieces of fruit, bread, eggs, orange juice, water and milk. A bachelor's fridge. I observed the contents of the fridge - along with many other of Dad's behaviors - the way Dian Fossey must have observed her mountain gorrila's, to better understand how they survive. I noticed what he liked to get from the supermarket in the way of prepared food (meatballs, macaroni and cheese, and chicken -he made the pasta and rice himself) and one week in - I began to make the food fresh for him and I took over the duty of shopping for the household.

I have noticed what Dad's favorites are (cavatelli and broccoli, meatballs, mac and cheese and a never ending tossed salad) and I use the recycled supply of Dad's black storage containers to keep the fridge full. Backups are in the freezer and now, I am proud to say, there is ice in the house. Mary, you would be so proud of me.

So, Dad eats well.

Just don't get me started on the contents of his cabinets....maybe next time.

A Rose By Any Other Name.....

Greetings All,
Today Dad had a doctor's appointment. It was a routine checkup to follow-up on his surgery (underarm) and his back's healing progress. I offered to drive several times, but he insists on going on his own. Oh well, we will keep trying.

Dad is so cute, I didn't think I would see him until after his appointment because I had school during his visit and I thought I would be back after he went to bed. What is cute is that just minutes before I got home from school (8pm) Dad called my cell phone. I was literally 1/10 of a mile away. I tried to pick up the phone, but missed the button and hung up on him instead. I thought I would just wait unil I got home 30 seconds later. I heard the chime on my cell phone indicating that he left a message, I thought perhaps he needed me to pick up something at the store on my way home. I didn't listen to the message, but instead hustled into the house to see what it is my father needed from me.

I ran up to Central Command (Dad's room) and he swung around in his huge, too big for his room - but I am not going to tell him - office chair, looked at me over the top of his glasses in that fatherly way and said,
"Did you get my message?"
Me: "Up, no, I thought I would talk to you live, since you just left it."
Dad: "Well, I was very worried".
Me: "Tonight is my late night class - I come home at 8pm."
We both look at each other with a pause that spoke volumes.
Me: "I guess I should have left you a note letting you know approximately when I will be home. (I usually do this, I just was running out and left a note about something else).
Dad: "Yes, if you could do that, I was worried."
Me: "I am sorry Dad, I will do that going forward".
Katherine hangs her head down, slowly turns around and shuffles toward the stairs going up to the "tower" (my room).

He is so cute. I mean caring so much - he probably didn't once say to himself, well she is over 45 (barely), she can take care of herself, she will be home when she is home. He just thought that his favorite daughter (Ha! I can say that here, no one can fight it!) is not where she should be, home.

So, what was I saying, oh yeah, Dad had his doctors appointment today. And a reminder, this appointment was routine. Dad said the doctor gave him a clean bill of health. Back is still healing nicely and underarm had considerably less fluid build up than last week. The doctor said he didn't even need to drain it, he said it would drain on its own and there is nothing to be concerned with. Dad said he was feeling better today when he woke up and he slept a bit better than in the recent past. The doctor also said that he can start exercising a bit and he doesn't need to come in again for a whole month! Now that is good news.

Dad is going to try to get to the indoor pool at the recreation center in Verona/Caldwell.

I have a short, but related story to tell and then I will let you go about your business.

When we were all about highschool age (70's) our family car was a Volkswagon van. A hideous pea-green, highly recognizable, box of a car that we got around in. My Dad seemed to have a propensity for VW's. Not sure why, I think I remember him saying that the German's were great mechanics. My Dad had that car for some time before its demise. In fact, it didn't even die, he sold it to my cousin Bryan.

Now it was time for Dad to by a new car. A car that would be all his. No kids with learner's permits, no holiday gatherings to get to stuffing us all in as if we were clowns in a VW Bug, just him. The last car Dad had to himself was a VW Carmengia. We couldn't fit in that little thing anyway.

Dad did his research and narrowed his choices down to two different makes and models. He drove down Bloomfield Avenue into the Caldwell's where the local car dealerships are lined up. Now, no one knows, except for Dad, exactly how this story goes, but legend has it that when Dad took one look at the young man that would be selling him a car in one of the dealerships, his mind was made up. My father bought the Ford Taurus. I am sure he was quite the easy sell. I am not sure if my father told the salesman why he picked the Taurus, or why he trusted him with this important purchase.

You see the salesman had on a tie that was Irish in theme. I am not sure if it was a St. Patrick's Day tie or if it had clovers on it, or if it was even anywhere near the holiday itself, but one look at that tie and my father's 'trust' instinct kicked in and he felt safe.

Why did I tell that story. Because my father is creature of habit. Predictable, steadfast, decisive.

When it came time to choose the doctor/s that would care for him during his recent medical situation - he seemed to take the same philosophy in choosing his doctor that he did that Ford Taurus. No, it has nothing to do with a tie, this is better and just as adorable, and oh so like Dad.

His regular doctor sent him to the hospital to get the diagnosis on his back. The hospital gave him several choices of local doctors to choose from to take him through the procedures and all follow-up care pertaining to his condition. I am going to exagerate just a bit. Imagine the list had the following names on it:

Dr. Smith
Dr. Jones
Dr. White
Dr. Barbalinardo
Dr. Cole

Who do you think he chose? Who, by just the name, sounded as if he came from a legacy of sculptors, artists, or great architects of famed cathedrals? Yup, he chose the Barbalinardo brothers of Montclair.




And once again, like the Taurus that lasted my father almost a decade, he chose well.
Way to go pops.

A rose...

Almost A Month

It has been almost a month since I have moved back into my father's home; my childhood home. The reasons for the move were many - a recent break up of a 10 year relationship, a not so recent unemployment status, my returning to college full-time at the age of 46, and lastly, but in no way least - my father is recuperating from some recent surgeries and I thought this is the place that I need to be. This is the place that I want to be, and if I am hearing my siblings (5)- they are glad I am here too.

The purpose for this Blog is two-fold - to act as somewhat of a journal for me as I go through all these dramatic changes in my life and to provide my siblings with the most up-to-date and detailed information regarding my father - rather than the individual phone calls where the information might change based on the day and time. So, basically, if they want to hear about Dad, they have to hear about me too!

I will keep this rather simple and over time include more and more detail - I just wouldn't want to lose you early on....

To repeat - I have moved back into my childhood home after an absence of 10 years. I moved out due to a relationship and have moved back in due to that same relationship.

The move was rather uneventful, but knowing my Dad I did ask that he perhaps would find himself more comfortable being somewhere other than the house when the move was occurring. He agreed and made himself scarce for the afternoon.

The movers did a fabulous job and the job was done in about 6 hours. It was rather costly though - in fact it cost almost the same as when Lucia and I moved from our apartment in Lake Hiawatha to the house in Mount Arlington - and we had so much more to move. I thought I was saving some money by bringing most of the incidentals - clothing, office supplies, art supplies, kitchen and other chotchkies. I probably shaved an hour off the moving time if not more - that would have made the cost outrageous!

But it is done, and there are only a handful of boxes that I need to still unpack. Many boxes are in storage in the attic closet and a few things are under the house.

I won't go into too much detail about school right now; suffice it to say that I am going full-time (15 credits) to Montclair State University http://www.montclair.edu/ and all is going well. The school is only three miles from home - so it is almost like living on campus! More to come on the observations of a 45ish year old student and her 18 year old counterparts...

Now, life with Dad....

Dad recently went through two surgeries. The first was to remove a growth from his upper back https://www.google.com/health/ref/graphic/9762 - after its removal the diagnosis was that it was malignant, but the doctor was confident that he removed it all.

After his first post-op visit the doctor said his back was healing nicely, but they wanted to do a CAT-scan to ensure they got it all. Post CAT-scan results showed that the surgery on his back was successful but they discovered a lump under his arm.

Long story short - he went back under the knife to remove the lump and they also recut his back to widen the area that they cleared last time - just as a precaution. The result - surgery went well and a perk was that they kept him in the hospital overnight due to his surgery beginning later than they thought. That is a perk because that he was in the right place for observation immediately following a surgery. The doctor placed a 'drain' in his underarm to drain the body of "lymph". Dad came home a bit tired, but no worse for the wear.

After a week he had a follow-up visit to determine how the wounds are healing.....and they were both healing well. The doctor took the drain out from under his arm. Over the last week Dad has had a horrible time trying to sleep. Often waking up late in the evening or early in the morning with much discomfort.

He thought his incision might not be healing as well as it should be. After his afternoon doctor visit today (10/22) he said the doctor (his regular doctor is on vacation - this was his brother that Dad saw) relieved some pain by draining some fluid from under his arm. The doctor also told him that he couldn't keep the drain in as it is possible it could cause an infection over time. So, Dad seems a bit relieved and hopefully will have a peaceful evening of rest.

This update, of course, was very short-hand and I will expand on it regularly over time - there are some wonderful stories that yield from this experience we are having: For example, how my Dad chose the doctor that he has, how his friend Bobbie has been by his side, how living with Dad (and his living with me) is an exercise in Love, how I can stuff his freezer and refridgerator with delights - not quite like Mary would, but still edible, living in this home and how the childhood memories are flooding back and how observing my father 'live his life' is an awe inspiring experience.

Stay with me - this is going to be interesting!