He Is Not Maintaining

When I arrived carrying my laptop computer, Trader Joe's Garden Patch juice, cheese, crackers, fruit cocktail, and my usual bag that has tissue, plastic cup, spoons, bowl, scissors, jojoba oil, and other sundry items that I might need in the visit, I found Dad still in bed. He was very happy to see me. I offered him some Garden Patch and he readily accepted it, but instead of really drinking like he usually does, he just sipped. He ate some cheese but left the crackers. He only nibbled at the cheese which he normally wolfs down.
I discussed a few items of family gossip and my husband's visit to the doctor for his injured shoulder. Dad was alert enough but not talkative. His cough was still troublesome as it has been ever since I returned from Texas two weeks ago. I asked the nurse to check him. She listened to his chest and went away before I could ask what she heard.
At some point, he told me his tailbone was hurting. I asked whether it hurt more when he was in the wheelchair, but he couldn't say. I asked him if it hurt when he was just lying down, and he wasn't sure. I told the CNA about it. She said we would look at it. She wanted me to see it too. I actually was trying to walk out while she checked his problem, but she called me back. So, she rolled him over and pulled down his pants and diaper so we could see what was hurting him. Indeed, there was a bit of discoloration. I could see that it wasn't diaper rash. There was no break in the skin, but as she pulled the diaper down a little more, we could see that he needed to be changed. Really I could smell it before I saw it. Carlos, his CNA for the day was called and he changed him.
During the examination of his tailbone and the discussion of how his butt looked, we talked about him as if he wasn't there and he never interrupted. He will just sit there and allow me to discuss his condition with other people and never offer any comment at all. I often wonder what we would have to say to get him to feel compelled to chime in.
I had an LA Times op-ed piece discussing the electoral college and advocating for the end of the all or nothing way we cast votes in a presidential election. Dad was happy to discuss this. It seems like he still cares about politics and government. He likes me to read to him, but he's not able to read a whole article by himself and process the information. When I discuss family problems, he often says that it's not important. Leave it be, he'll say.
He really is thin. He is not maintaining.

Now He's Starving

I was away for a month. While I was away, I spoke to him on the phone one time. I think about calling him all the time, but I don't pick up the phone. I know I'll have to get someone to help me talk to him because he can't answer the phone by himself. I have been put on indefinite hold so many times. I get really mad. But lovely Theresa gave me her cell phone number and told me to call on Wednesday because she works late that day. That one day I was able to get through on Theresa's phone was wonderful. He seemed so happy to hear from me.

Two days before I came home my brother sent out an email to everyone in the family to come and say good-bye to Dad. He said Dad was failing fast. Since January he's lost 20 pounds so CV wanted to put him in hospice.

I know large weight loss is a cause for worry, and instead of putting him in hospice, let's ask the question, "Why is he not eating?" That question is easy to answer. The food is inedible. At 96 years old, having consumed more than average amounts of salt all his life, he is not going to be able to find unsalted food palatable. They have put him on a pureed diet because a speech therapist said he has a swallowing problem. When we bring food in for him, he eats it. He loves cheese and crackers. He loves any soup from Von's. He loves Trader Joe's Red Pepper and Tomato soup. We take him across the street once in a while for a chile relleno. He will eat real food, but since he doesn't really feel hunger pangs, he's not going to eat unsalted pureed unrecognizable gruel.

I have to work to get him off that pureed diet. He's starving to death!