The Never Ending Tales (of John)

or What a Week it Has Been!

Monday started out normal enough. I went to do an interview at one of the jails, then came home to drag Father to the dentist for his check-up. He loves going to the dentist. (not) Got there, they gave him some antibiotics because his gums are awful, and the cleaning went fairly quickly and easily.

Go home, he ate his dinner, everything seems normal. Then he went to bed. And started dreaming, I think. He was yelling at people, telling them not to do things, said someone was earning $9.15 an hour, and he didn’t sound happy about it. Heard him complaining he was cold. About 4:00 a.m., he starts calling me, saying someone is starting a fire. Explained to him there was no fire and told him to go back to sleep. Not sure if he did, but I kept hearing him fussing at someone.

Tuesday, I got up at 6:30 a.m., as usual, I’m in the shower and he starts yelling for me to “Come here right now!” Told him to hang on to his shorts and I would be there when I got clothes on. When I got dressed, he is mad as a hornet because those guys had that fire burning, but they just put it out. Asked where the fire was, he said under the porch. Then he tells me he tried to put the fire out with the garden hose, but couldn’t and then said “those three guys who came in put the fire out.” OK. Three guys. What three guys? Told him there was no fire, he got angrier. I decided it wasn’t worth it and shut up. He sort of got settled down.

I went to do another interview. Got home just in time to get his lunch from the Meal on Wheels guy. Go in the house, and he is all put out, wants to know who those three guys were. What three guys? He doesn’t know who they were, but said they came in while he was taking a shPOOPt, and were sitting in the living room when he came out of the bathroom. He said the men wouldn't talk to him, just sat there looking at him. Oh, good. Nothing is out of place in the house. Nothing missing. I’m thinking he is still crazy, and I was right. He ate dinner and took his customary afternoon nap. I decided I wasn’t going in to the office with him acting goofy. He is asleep a little while and starts talking again. Then he is arguing with someone, can’t quite figure out what’s going on, so I asked him who he was talking to. He said “That guy standing over there” and points at the piano. Now, unless there was an invisible man, there was no guy on the piano. I told him there was no man. He got really mad.

By now, I’ve decided something isn’t right (ain’t I smart!) and decided he was going to the doctor Wednesday (Wednesday is one of the regular days they have someone in the office near us.) Also got chicken and gave him another dose of the antibiotics they use before his cleaning.

Tuesday night, he was up about every 90 minutes to 2 hours. He would get up and start walking into the living room. I’d get up and ask him why he was getting up in the middle of the night. He would get disgusted and go back to bed. About 3:00 a.m., I hear him complaining his back and hips hurt. This is not a surprise to me, he went to bed before it even got dark, I would think he would ache from lying there that long! About 4:00 a.m., he got up, said he was going to sit in his chair ‘cause his hips hurt. And he did. I didn’t hear another peep out of him the rest of the night.

Wednesday I call the doctor’s office and discover the person we wanted to see wasn’t in that day, and the other guy was double booked. Told me to call the Broomfield office and get a message to the one we wanted to see. So I call, leave a message, and of course, the didn’t call back until after 5:00 p.m. By then I had already made an appointment for Thursday in Thornton. Jerks. I prepared for another fun night.

But the fun night didn’t materialize. He was quiet, slept through the night, no yelling and no wandering.

Thursday we go to the doctor. He is no longer talking crazy. She can’t find anything wrong with him. No urinary tract infection. No real answers. If is was a mini-stroke, there appears to be no loss of motion. That was the strangest thing. He was never unsteady (well, any more than usual) on his feet, was talking as well as ever, no physical signs of anything.

I was too chicken to leave him and go to work Friday. He was fine all night Thursday night and Friday. Anyone have a nice padded cell I could borrow? I think I need one.

The big question remains, what was that all about? Did getting his teeth cleaned shake his marbles loose temporarily? We have no idea, but I’d really not like to do a repeat of this week in the near future!