Free Billy D!

We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America… AND WILLIAM

When this was written, never would the writers have imagined a naked 81 year old, Afro-Guyanese man “running” down the hall screaming “I know my constitution” in order to try and escape getting in a shower.

Talk about a change…this is the man who used to take 2 or more showers a day, washed his hands prior to using the bathroom, cut his nails with a razor blade and never allowed his clothes to have a speck of dirt on them. My dad always had a clean handkerchief. He smelled like Old Spice and Clorettes green gum. He had pajamas like Cliff Huxtable, the matching tops and bottoms (not as expensive of course). He wore nice suits, fresh, clean, well pressed shirts, and if he didn’t have on a clerical shirt and collar, he had on a tie.  Now he may shower once a week, shaves when he gets a beard and wipes his nose on his sleeve. He doesn’t wear pants. He puts on a t-shirt that I got him from Wal-Mart and I have to argue with him to change his Depends. I have to beg him to take care of his hygiene. He has lost his sense of pride. But, I have tried my hardest to not to let him know it. I have tried to keep him as independent as possible.

In all of this, he has not lost his sense of humor or his vanity. He looks in the mirror and says, “That’s one swanky fellow.”

 My sister and I guess that means that he looks good! Don’t get me wrong, It was taken some work to get him to change his attire. I mean, this is the man who moved me into college (all 5 years) in a three-piece suit and clerical collar. I had to do something because the dry cleaning bills were outrageous. The medications that he takes make his urine smell awful and the dry cleaners could not get the smell out. I would use Dryell in the dryer every few days to help freshen his clothes, but it wasn’t working either. So, I went to Wal-Mart and picked up some khaki pants and polo shirts.

Then first thing that he said when I showed him the first outfit was, “these clothes are for white people.”

“Daddy, these clothes are not just for white people. You can wear them too”, I told him.

What did we see when we step out to go to the doctor’s office? A white man wearing khaki pants and a polo shirt!!!! Thanks, Jesus!

“See, you got me out here looking like a vagabond.”

Then we go to see the doctor. Who is wearing…you guessed it…KHAKI PANTS and POLO SHIRT!!!

Deductive reasoning at its best: white people wear khaki pants. I’m in khaki pants. You got me looking like a white person.

As time the has passed, he has gotten used to his new clothes and actually has fun picking out what he's going to wear. He has some favorite outfits and hats. We

actually had to tell him to stop wearing a few of them because he was calling them his uniform and wearing them too often.

My dad also gained independence through the use of a rolling walker that he calls his bicycle. It’s red and has a basket. He is very protective of it. He cares about it more than he does about my sister and me. It has to get in the car before we do. We have to check the basket because he hides things in it. He’s a hoarder…

We are trying to keep him as independent as possible for as long as possible. We have in-home nursing since he no longer goes to adult day care. We have snacks in the home. We have moved to be close to him. I am looking into another adult care program.

How do I let keeping him independent not affect my independence?

There are so many days that I come home right after work because I am worried that something may have happened to him and I don’t know if he can use the phone to call for help.

I cannot stay out too late because I feel guilty about spending too much time away from home.

He’s diabetic and if he doesn’t eat, his sugar can go too far down and he can slip into a coma.

What if this is the time that I go away and when I get home, he doesn’t remember who I am?

I’m still a young woman who wants to be married and have children. How can I do that? I am home taking care of my dad. Honestly, this was not my plan. I moved back here to take care of my mom. She was my best friend. She was the one that I loved more than I could even express. Truth be told, me and my dad butted heads. He was the one who beat my butt the most when I was little because of my smart mouth. He was the one who got the most upset when my clumsy hands spilled my drink at dinner or fell while running. He was the most judgmental of me and gave me the most anxiety. The one who terrorized me with his mental illness and the one who I felt was not there for me like a dad should be for a little girl. He was Reverend Douglas. If you are a preacher’s kid, you may understand. Sometimes, they are there for the church, but not there for the home…that kind of thing. The church comes first.

And…He's lived his life. He has done the things that he has wanted to do. He has traveled and preached. That's what he wanted to do in life. Preaching was his passion! He still does it in his sleep. 

He lived my mom's life too. She was a preacher's wife. She did everything for him. Raised the churches' general claims and took care of financial matters, printed off bulletins, sang in the church choir, raised 3 kids, and taught for almost 30 years while being away from her family. I know that was hard for her especially during her illness. There have been many sacrifices made for the sake of his life and ministry.  And no, I am not bitter. I am just realizing my dad has lived a rich and meaningful life. I should not feel guilty for living mine. 

Whew! It may "sound" awful to read that. But it's the truth and it's ok to feel that way, caregivers. Don't hold those hurt feelings in. 

The days that he curses me out from head to toe because I am taking care of him, I tell myself that I am doing this to honor my mom because I could pay him back for all of those hurtful years where he was out being Reverend Douglas instead of being my daddy, but where would that get me? It would not bring back my mom. It would not bring me closer to God. It would not solve anything. What I have decided to do is to forgive and love my dad.  I know that he did the best that he could do. Both of my parents did the best they could do.

I’m going to do the best that I can, work on forgiving and rely on God. This thing is hard y'all! I am weak and need strength.  

I need Thee every hour,


Most gracious Lord;


No tender voice like Thine


Can peace afford.

I need Thee, oh, I need Thee;


Every hour I need Thee;


Oh, bless me now, my Savior!

I come to Thee.

I need Thee every hour

Stay Thou near by;


Temptations lose their power

When Thou art nigh.

I need Thee every hour,


In joy or pain;


Come quickly and abide,


Or life is vain.

I need Thee every hour,


Teach me Thy will;


And Thy rich promises


In me fulfill.

I need Thee every hour,


Most Holy One;


Oh, make me Thine indeed,


Thou blessed Son.

She Get It From Her Mama…and Daddy

Juvenile recorded the song, She Get It From Her Mama circa 2006. In this song, he and another young man are asking questions about a young female. 

Where she get her eyes from? She get it from her mama. 

Where she learn to cook from? She get it from her mama. 

Where she get her class from? She get it from her mama. 

Where she learn how to dress from? She get it from her mama. 

Where she get that walk from? She get it from her mama.

Where she get that talk from? She get it from her mama. 

I wonder why she so crazy…She get it from her mama…

Let's look at what Juvenile has to say. Yes, all of these qualities or traits this young lady "gets from her mama". Some are inherited (nature) and some are acquired (nurture). 

I used to teach science…what do you expect?

Some of these things she could control and some just happened to her by chance. 

As I take care of my dad and look back at my mom, I look at my life and wonder, could this be me one day?

My father was diagnosed with mental illness when I was eight years old. He was placed in an institution and as a family, we kept it a secret and went on with life as usual. Mental illness has genetic inheritance.  When I was younger, I would say that I was not feeling well. I couldn’t explain what I was feeling. I just knew something was wrong. I went to various doctors and they could not find anything wrong. What was going on was more mental than anything else. This was the beginning of my struggle with mental illness…my anxiety and depression. I did not get professionally diagnosed until I went to college.

My mother had ovarian cancer. This is also hereditary. The risk factors for this type of cancer include the following.

·      Started menstruating at an early age (before 12) CHECK

·      Has not given birth to any children. CHECK

·      Had her first child after age 30. ummm see the above bullet

·      Has never taken oral contraceptive pills. NOT for long periods of time.

·      First degree relative with ovarian cancer. CHECK

·      Obese DOUBLE CHECK

In the words of Florida Evans from the television show Good Times “Damn, Damn, Damn!”

I’ve got things coming at me from both sides. Don’t get me started on diabetes, high cholesterol and high blood pressure!

Ovarian and breast cancer risks can be tested through BRCA 1 and BRCA 2 blood tests. In the past 2 weeks, a blood test has been release to check for genetic risk for Alzheimer’s dementia.

But here’s the thing: If I get tested, what would I do with the results?

Do I do the extreme like Angelina Jolie, who has a million kids,  and remove my breasts and have a hysterectomy? Do I live my life in fear and think that every stomach cramp is cancer? When I forget what I am talking about (like I did today) or an important date, do I pop one of my dad’s Aricepts?

I cannot live my life in fear, but I cannot live my life haphazardly either. This goes back to a previous post in which I say that it is time to take care of myself. I need to make sure that I get my stress, depression and anxiety under better control. I need to eat right and live a healthier life.

I also have to pray that God will help my mind and my unbelief. I know God and I know medicine/science. It’s hard when you are a Christian living in a scientific society.

I know that God is a healer and I had a ton of people praying for my mom’s healing. In my mind, I thought it meant that she would be healed on earth. I know that God can reach down and restore my dad’s mind.  For some reason, I am sitting here in this position, living here, taking care of my dad and missing my mom. All though I don’t know any of the answers and it gets extremely hard, I just have to trust God. I have to trust God.

Lord I hear of showers of blessings

Thou art scattering full and free

Showers the thirsty souls refreshing

Let some drops now fall on me

Pass me not oh gentle savior

Sinful though my heart may be

I am longing for your favor

Whilst thou art blessing

Oh Lord

Come on and bless me

Even me Lord

Even me

Let some drops

Now fall on me

From Juvenile to Jesus! It's a journey...

The Help

The Help

You is kind. You is smart. You is important.

These words were said by the maid, Aibileen Clark, in the novel/movie, The Help.  She loved the little girl who she looked after and deposited words of love into her daily.

The words that I have for the help that I’ve hired are slightly different.

You is lazy. You is a thief. You is no good. You is a bleepity bleep lie.

Well not for ALL the help, but we have had some B-A-D helpers.

When my father’s health started going down, my mother was doing her best to take care of him. I came home and saw how she was struggling. I decided to try to make her life as easy as possible.  I went to Wal-Mart and bought a shower chair and rail so that my dad could get in and out of the tub easier. I also installed an extendable showerhead. Really, this was beneficial to both of them, especially when my mom’s health went down in the following months.

When my parents decided to move to Virginia, I found a place that had 3 levels of care: independent living, assistant living and nursing home care. My mom told me that she wanted a 3 bedroom apartment with 2 bathrooms. That’s what I found her. It was funny. She did not see the place before she moved into it. I called and set it up, my aunt went to see it and my mom filled out the papers.

Once she got there, I called the home health agency and set up and assessment for my dad…really it was for the both of them.

Danielle came 2 times a week to bathe my dad. She also helped with light house keeping such as washing the dishes and taking out the trash. This really helped my mom out a great deal.

I also made simple changes like buying Tide pods instead of bottles of laundry detergent. I got Clorox packets instead of pouring and measuring bleach. When someone has neuropathy (numbness and tingling) in the hands or feet, simple tasks like pouring laundry detergent can be difficult and frustrating.

Clorox wipes became a mainstay in the house. They are more hygienic than the clothes and rags that were previously being used. (Do your folks soak them in a bowl of bleach in the sink like mine do?)

Danielle remained with us after my mother passed away because she knew my father. I thought that this would help with the transition of her passing away. It didn’t. Danielle became very lazy. Once we moved to our new house, she helped to get my dad ready for adult day care in the mornings and was supposed to receive him when he got of the bus in the afternoons. One day I received a text from her saying that she could not find my dad. She had gotten to the house late and did not know if the bus had dropped him off or not. I called her, but I could not hear anything after the words I cannot find your dad.

I work 45 minutes from home. I got home in about 25 minutes that day. Danielle had left. She did not try to look for him. She did not try to wait until I got home to see if he was there…nothing.

I got home and found him in a corner in his room, scared and covered in urine and feces. He was upset because the person that he trusted to be there in the afternoon for him hadn’t been. The bus driver had been nice enough to let him in the house. I thank God that I had given him his own key.

So that was the end of Danielle…

My father had been going to the Adult Care Center. He went 3 times a week. He was able to eat lunch and a snack while there. He was going on field trips and participating in activities. The staff loved him and he really enjoyed going. He would say , “When I get off the bus, I wave to my fans. It’s like I’m the Archbishop of Canterbury”.  Have I ever mentioned my dad is vain?

One day I got a call from the center saying that he was refusing to be changed. They needed someone to pick him up. I tried talking to him. He refused to come to the phone.  I called my sister and she had a chance to talk to him. He was able to stay the rest of the day after agreeing to be changed. When I spoke to the director, I explained that he mentioned that the aides are not allowing him to take off his shoes when he changes his depends. His shoes touch the inside of the depends and the dirt touches his skin. He is a very clean man and wants to be able to take off his shoes.

He hasn’t been back to the Adult Care Center since then. He just wanted respect and dignity. Now when we mention the center, he says they can go to hell.

So that was the end of the center…

Now my dad stays at home. We have nurse aides that come in for 2 hours a day to help him with his daily activities such as medication administration, breakfast, and bathing. At first, things were going great. Now we have several different aides coming to the house. I can go to a website to see who is coming on different days. He cannot remember who has been here.

Some aides are less involved in his care and others are too involved in the care of our household. We have come home several times to find our dishes, pots, pans and spices rearranged, but our father not bathed or shaved.

It’s not hard to take care of my dad. Yes, he hates getting in the tub. Yes, he hates brushing his teeth. Most elderly and children do! But you have to do it, especially if you are getting paid to do it!!

 My sister created a manual that lays out how to care for him. It has what to do, meal suggestions, order of medications, and emergency contacts. You would be surprised what we come home to sometimes. The other day, someone made a sandwich with waffles…we had bread! Now we are having nurses who are eating our food and taking the snacks! We are paying people to eat food and watch tv instead of clean my dad. It’s very frustrating. A change is coming soon. Believe me. 

The Good Help

There have been some good people and resources that have helped me through all of this. I am grateful to my sister, Kristen, for everything that she helps me with on a daily basis. I could not have done this without her. She lines up all the medications in the daily pillbox, laughs with him and just brings a different attitude to the situation. He still calls her his baby.

My Aunt Gloria played a vital role in helping my mother (her sister) move here and continues to encourage me everyday. She has been over here to help us unpack when we have been overwhelmed with life and helped me navigate through the funeral and burial process. She is now my soror but she will always be my auntie!

Melody Bogan introduced me to her company and the Care Partners. Mine is Linda. She has been there for me to help me understand what I need to do to be a better advocate for my dad. She helps me to understand what questions I need to ask, what I need to look for and sometimes she is just there to listen to me.  She calls companies and gets information for me that I may not have time to obtain and send articles my way to help encourage me. She even asks me what I am doing for me…I forget about me sometimes…remember last week’s blog? Go to www.carepartner.com to find out more about this company and all they have to offer.

I’m also trying to get my father in another program called Kissoto PACE. This program is all inclusive and is geared for senior adults. Doctors, occupational therapy, physical therapy, personal care, specialist and respite care in one location. They also provide transportation to and from home. It is new to our area, but has been around for years in many different cities. 

People always say God will never put on you more than you can bear. I don’t know about that. I think that He gives us a whole lot to deal with and puts people in our lives to help us out and encourage us.

Because if what people say is true, then God must think I’m one bad mutha, *shut your mouth* I’m talking ‘bout Dre.