Page 57 - FDCC_AgingParents

PATIENCE, PLANNING AND SUPPORT: REFLECTIONS ON DEALING WITH AGING FAMILY MEMBERS
wanted or what he remembered being interested in doing. To Mom, who was seeing this gradually on a continuum over time, I explained it was like the frog in the pot of water slowly brought to a boil – she did not notice it. To me, by contrast, seeing this unusual track record of behaviour suddenly and for the first time, it was like the frog which jumps into and then immediately out of the already boiling pot of water.
I explained to Mom that she was slowly and gradually but unknowingly witnessing my dad’s cognitive decline because of some health disease or disability. I was presented in short order with key facts that did not add to the dad I remembered. This made it much easier for me to conclude this than for my mom, who struggled with misplaced guilt over what she perceived as dad’s dissatisfaction with her shortcomings in her marriage.
As we discussed more, I asked her to recall anything odd about their trip out to Toronto. She reported that when
they were preparing to go to the Nanaimo regional airport for the connecting flight to Vancouver, she had taken out her passport and put it with her purse on their bed. She then left the room to attend to something else, but she could not locate the passport while her purse was still there when it came time to go.11 She did manage to find an expired passport in a rush, which was accepted in the circumstances as proof of identity at the airport. At the time, she only questioned her own memory and did not think anything was amiss otherwise. She then related her side of the experience I had observed at the airport: Dad, it turned out, had “forgotten” what to do about retrieving their luggage off
the carousel, and so was pushing the empty cart aimlessly around the luggage zone, uncertain what to do until mom persuaded him that their bags were right there on the carousel to be picked up.
Their trip was ending, so I told Mom it was most important that she not continue to blame herself. I also advised her that she must not lose patience with Dad as this was not “him” so much as whatever was causing him to act this way. She should not take it as normal, although she had been
living with it as if it was – like the frog in the pot slowly brought to a boil – for some time now. My mom was slow to accept it but started to see the logic of my advice and my more “immediate” appreciation of the history. It would be confirmed by the circumstances leading to and upon their return home.
Their departure raised concerns and also a challenge for my brother and me:
1. At the airport security screening, Mom went through the scanner with no problem.I was at the point of leaving but had enough residual concern that I lingered nearby to make sure Dad made it through, too. He went through the first time and began collecting his things when the security staff stopped him and asked if he had anything in his pockets – he shook his head no, so they asked him to go through again. On his second pass-through, the scanner detected objects again – this time, he removed his belt and then was instructed to go through a third time. When the scanner again detected objects, they pulled him aside and patted him down
and then politely but firmly asked him to empty his pockets – at which point he expressed some frustration and pulled out his nail clippers, a pen knife, and a pipe- cleaning tool – all forbidden items since 9-11 and in any event items which should have gone into the tray for personal items.
2. This is something my dad would typically have known had he been acting as I remembered him, and I sensed that now he was at risk of creating an incident that would jeopardize their flight home. So, when it was clear that he would raise a fuss about relinquishing these items, I decided to intervene. At the same time, I had never raised my voice to my dad in my life. I put on
my best courtroom bark and effectively ordered him to do as he was told – and then, when I had his attention, firmly but politely explained I would send the items to him in the mail. He stared at me with the same vacant look I had first seen in the arrivals area when he pushed the cart into the baggage collection zone. He nodded
11 For domestic flights within Canada at the time, a driver’s licence sufficed as identification, but mom didn’t drive and had not held a driver’s license since leaving Winnipeg for the west coast.
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