Things I've learned....

I really can survive without air conditioning.

It's been at or near 90 degrees all week. Dad wears a flannel shirt and keeps the house open.....for the fresh air. The humidity, of course, nearly matches the temperature. The good news is that I've had to work four of the five days this week. St. Louis folks like their air conditioning. By the time I come home, it's close to sundown and it really does become bearable again (only because it's September) So, even though I haven't been overcome by the heat, I still don't have to like it.

Always have your masking tape and Sharpie handy.

Dad labels things. Everything. Most importantly, food must be labeled. I came home a few days ago to find Dad in the kitchen happily preparing what he thought would be a nice lunch. He was chewing on something and I looked at the plate on the counter. "Dad, what are you eating?" "Well, I found this in the door and thought it smelled pretty good." "Dad, that's Eli's dog food." "Oh! Well, it's pretty good!" A few minutes later (I could tell he was really mulling this one over) he said to me, "Now do you see why I label everything?" I have developed a close relationship with the masking tape and Sharpie.

Caring for a patient with Alzheimer's disease can never prepare you for life with a parent with Alzheimer's disease.
"Who are you and what have you done to my father?"

*A formerly vibrant man who walked two miles daily can no longer make it around the block.
*An extremely healthy man for 85 years who's dental assistants didn't believe him when he reviewed his medical history (or lack thereof) and who prided himself in the fact that he never needed prescription medication now has a "menu" of pills for which he has created a schedule around each meal. Requests for medical specialists occur on a near weekly basis: his nose runs when he eats, he had to see an ENT dr; he has diarrhea for four days, then constipation to the point that he needs to go to the emergency room (which did resolve itself without the ER visit.) Now he is demanding to see a specialist so he can have a "colonostomy." He woke up in the middle of the night with a pain between his fourth and fifth toe. After rubbing vitamin cream on it (which turned out to be Neosporin) and getting some relief, he thinks he should see a podiatrist. I won't go into his dental issues. Suffice it to say, even though he moves at the speed of turtle, his ill fitting dentures double the time it takes him to eat.
*Saddest of all, my financially savvy dad can no longer make simple change for twenty dollars. That alone was our biggest red flag.

The good news is he still knows everyone. He can still cook for himself and generally take care of himself.

It is quite an education.