A shadow of himself

I can't help but compare this experience to raising my children when they were young. I guess that's because you surrender a giant chunk of independence. My morning routine is to feed the dog, then head up to the loft to read email, check Facebook and do all things computer-related. It's my quiet little slice of heaven. I'm doing that right now, in fact.

Just now, I heard the click, click, click of Dad's walker as he headed into the bathroom. I literally said (in my head): "Please go back to bed. Please go back to bed." Not that it would kill me to walk downstairs, pour him coffee and put on the Today Show, but I just really treasure my alone time. It's an an unblemished slice of my old life that I like to hold onto.

Yesterday, Dad was visited by the visiting nurse and the PT. The nurse appointment made me sad, mostly because she quizzed Dad over and over again about his interests. My Dad used to be quite a fascinating person. He loved music. He liked Elvis Costello long before ANYONE had heard of him. He liked Evita LONG before it became a Broadway classic. He used to call me to discuss the Grammy Awards. And, of course, there was racing. My Dad is a former amateur race car driver. It completely DEFINED him. My strongest childhood memories were of Dad in the garage, working on his race car.

Flash forward to today and Dad has almost ZERO interests. He's done a tiny bit of reading since he got here, but only seems to tolerate it. His only interest seems to be in finding NCIS on TV. Oh and dessert. He's flipping passionate about dessert. But that doesn't count, right?

Well, the nurse was trying to mentally probe him and figure out what he could do to get his mind going. He wasn't buying it and she wasn't giving up. She mentioned Adult Day programs to him and I could see the switch turn off in his head: "Don't make me go someplace and interact with old people." I helped him answer some of the questions, but the jig was up. Dad has virtually no interests and sitting and watching TV all day is not going to help him in the least bit.

I understand her purpose in doing this, but how much can you change a person's stripes? For the last 10 years, Dad has sat and watched TV and read books. That is truly the sum total of his later life. He wants to be in his own home doing these two things. That's it.

This makes me sad, really sad.