ALF Stretch Starts Today

I am getting ready to drive my dad to the ALF. He is not thrilled. We just had a visit from his hospice social worker, and she tried to help me convince him it was the right thing to do. As usual, he insisted that caring for him was an easy job. I told him about the nasty cleaning chores I have to do, and he asked me to show him, so I showed him some pretty gross stuff which is in line to go in the washer. He said he couldn’t believe it, as though that meant he didn’t have to!

The social worker had some good advice. His advance healthcare directive says I can take over when he suffers from incapacity. We just need an attending physician to sign off. The social worker took a copy of the directive, and she will contact the doctor.

I have a neurotic fantasy that he’ll have a lucid day, call a lawyer, and raise all manner of hell. If it weren’t for that, I would have forced him to move already. It will never happen, and if it did, he wouldn’t get anywhere. I need to stop being overly cautious.

Our deal is that he only has to stay a week. I don’t want to be a dishonorable person, so I plan to abide by that. It doesn’t mean I can’t turn around two days after he leaves and have him driven back. It would be silly, but I would rather do something silly than break a promise.

I already knew about the provision in the directive, but I was reluctant to use it. I had my excessive caution holding me back, and I hate to force someone into an ALF at the end of a cattle prod.

It might be better for me if he resists today, because then I wouldn’t be bound by my promise. I could install him tomorrow, using the health care directive. The hospice people would even drive him to the ALF.

One way or the other, I plan to have him moved permanently by the first of the month. It will happen.

I don’t know what to do with myself. Freedom will be hard to absorb. I feel like getting a pizza on the way home and spending a couple of hours on the couch, decompressing. Maybe I should wait until the mess goes into the washing machine, though.

I’m about to start living, and my dad is about to be confronted with the fact that he is dying. What a mix of emotions I have. I can’t help feeling glad for myself, but I feel very bad for him, too.

Honestly, I hope he doesn’t last long after this. There is nothing good to look forward to except heaven. If he adjusts well to the ALF, we may end up with a healed relationship, but what are the odds that he will choose to adjust?

I can’t fix everything. Even Jesus lost people; he did everything as well as possible, but he still had to give up on most of the Jews.

This would have been a thousand times easier with a Spirit-led Christian.

I’m off. Pray for us both.