Not Even a Stop Light...

So this morning, I woke my father up, fed him breakfast, showered him (much to his delight), clipped the toe nails, piled him in the car with his clothes, and headed north.

At one point during our two hour ride north Dad asked why were doing this, and I explained that his brain had quit filtering and he was putting his hands on people and that kept getting people upset.  We are hoping that the new combination of drugs will make it so that he doesn't bother anyone.

So we get up to Onamia - and find the hospital, and then the senior center.  They interview dad and then they tell me I can go.  I go into room 30 and dad is laying down sideways on the bed.  I say, "Goodbye" and head out to the car.

I am touched that dad just trusts that all this is in his best interest.  I know that later that morning he will wake up and not know where he is, why he is there, or what is going on.  I hope this works out for all.

I don't know what we will do if they aren't able to figure something out.  No one will want to take dad, and then we are really up against it.

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