‘the cat doesn’t know what year it is.’ — my dad

I really had no idea that I would make it this long, even way back in school and before I got addicted to the internet and quit life. My birthday was on February 1st. I can’t believe I’ve made it 28 years. But based upon all these recent events, I probably won’t make it very much longer…

First, an ice storm came in late on Monday and covered everything in nearly an inch of ice. My dad passed on dialysis on Wednesday because of it. And we were both stuck in the damn apartment about three days.. with very little food and money. No checking of the mail (for the social security check) since it was so far away with no much ice between us. A few years ago, I went out to check the mail with ice out there and screwed up my leg pretty bad. It sometimes still clicks.

And yesterday, my dad fell on some ice and had to drag himself all the way back into the apartment all by himself. In the middle of the day too. I tried to pull him up at the door, but I was no help. He eventually got seated inside on his own. But today, his head got even more screwed up. My dad kept talking about this apartment not being our own.. and that this one looks a lot like ours. It IS ours.

My dad drove up to Subway and got some five-dollar footlongs for an early supper.. and THINKS he finally broke the brakes that he denies he ruined in the first place. My dad got all stressed out about that.. then just about everything out of his mouth didn’t make any sense. I tried to explain to him a little later (among many other things that I had to explain to him over and over again) that maybe he went over a speed bump rather than finally breaking the brake. I was somewhat positive there was a speed bump in the Subway parking lot. But that didn’t change anything. He went right on bitching, moaning, not knowing how to do ANYTHING.

I finally retreated to my room because I just couldn’t take it anymore. Nonetheless, my dad called a driver to pick him up for dialysis in the morning even though he kept changing his mind about going so damn many times. -_- ..But then that amount of time alone must’ve really screwed him up. My dad kept thinking this wasn’t our apartment. He even began whispering at one point, worried some one out in the hallway would hear and would kick us out or something. He had also removed half his clothes and eventually wondered where they went. He began looking around the house and began pointing things out that were his and he recognized. When I tried to tell him that it was our apartment, he laughed it off and said I must be joking.

With my dad continuing on all night, I had a heck of a time watching let alone watching tonight’s NBC comedies.. He thought we only had milk to drink until I went to the kitchen and got him a bottle of water. He went to bed and tried to sleep. But he heard me drinking some pepsi and and came back out again, hinting that he wanted some as if said pepsi wasn’t prominently seen the fridge.. Now I leave the room and he starts talking to himself..

He says this is a different apartment than ours. I tell him this is our apartment. He says this is a mobile home. I say this is our apartment. He says this is a hotel room… *sigh* See ya.


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