I've put away all the pants except his sweatpants, but somehow the aides manage to get into the tied-up bags and open them up and find these pants. They clearly don't fit at all. The sweatpants all fit comfortably and don't make him look like a sack of bones.
I've asked the nurse to give away the put-away clothing to people who need it, but so far it hasn't happened. (The nurse is the one who suggested that - she said some people don't have nearly enough clothes.)
My father died peacefully on February 6, 2012. I had arrived a few hours before he died, so I had time to sit by him and talk and even moisten his lips with the long-promised scotch I had with me. I don't know if he heard me, but he smacked his lips from the scotch, My father had Alzheimer's and had donated his brain to the Alzheimer's study he'd been part of at Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center. I'll continue to post for a while.
Friday, July 8, 2011
I wish they wouldn't put these pants on him
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