The Last Kaddish

Today, at Mincha,  I recited the last Kaddish for my mom.

The last of the 11 months...

I choked over the Kaddish as I choked in her Levaya.

It's a sense of saying goodbye. While we were saying Kaddish there was a feeling of some kind of kesher, a bond.

Now there's another level of separation. A lesser level of connection.

with tears in my eyes... bye Mommy. I love you so...

public vs private health care

In one of our recent visits with our dad to a private doctor, he (the doctor) started a whole tirade about public vs private health care.

'I'm [one of] the best doctors in my field. It's impossible for a doctor working for the public health system to have the expertise that I have.

I go to the US once a month and participate in medical conferences. I'm up to date on the latest medical advances.

Does any hospital / public health care system send their doctors to participate in medical conferences? (and on what frequency).

...

I can give the prescriptions for the best medicines in the market.

A doctor working for the public health care system cannot.

Even if he knows about the better medications (doubtfully so, since he doesn't participate in any medical conferences, and he's probably not up to date), his hands are tied. He's not allowed to write prescriptions of medications that are not in the public 'basket' (because that would be like saying that the public health care medicine committee is wrong abut not adding this medicine to the basket).

Yes, the doctor was somewhat arrogant.

But, putting that aside, he still had some points to be made.

What do you think?

P.S. Although we still have issues with my dad's health, for the meanwhile this doctor seems to have helped more than any other doctor has.

~~~~~

messages from mom

Today, thinking about Mom, I did a google search on her name.

I was surprised to find to feedbacks that Mommy left on one of her favorite sites, a little less than a year before her passing.

One of the feedbacks was a general thank-you message.

The other sent shivers down my spine.

A short feedback, but she talks about her illness, and how she's contemplating chemotherapy.

"It's hard for me to say that there is no choice... not deciding is also a decision... We are able to decide, but we do not know what is good for us... We have to do our best... to say say that there is no choice - that's succumbing to despair."

 

So much like my mother.

She fought almost till her last day. 

May her memory be blessed.

Mom is gone

It's been a few months, but I've haven't the nerves to write about it since.

Mom is now in heaven.

Her last few weeks were very tough, for her and for the family.

At least now she isn't suffering anymore.

The void is hard.

I try not to show, but here and there I still break down and cry.

Mommy - I miss you so!

What does Dad have?

Well, we call it alzheimer, and due to his young age (63) it's categorized as early onset alzheimer, but one doctor said it looks like it really is multi infarct dementia (a.k.a. MID).

(Another doctor told us last week that you can only surely diagnose Alzheimer disease by autopsy.)

Not that it makes the pain or burden any easier... the symptoms are exactly the same... but now you know.

Responsibility

Responsibility.

Some are born with it.
Some are not.
And they never take it upon themselves.

We're 6 siblings.
Some live closer, some are far away.
Some have large families to take care of, some have smaller.
Some are right before / after childbirth, asome are not (the males... :-) ).

5 are evolved with caring for our parents, in various degrees.
1 is not.
Well, not quite not at all, but he doesn't take any initiative to do things, if he is not implicitly required.

Will he ever grow up?

Sleeping pills don't work

Started several weeks ago.

I got a phone call from dad's caregiver, John.

'We have a little problem; Dad isn't sleeping well at night'.

Turns out that he goes to sleep early (he always did, but not so early), wakes up several hours later to go to the bathroom.
Then John 'puts' him back to bed. (i.e. physically put's him back into bed. Dad lost his coordination, and can't get back into bed alone. Dad is not lightweight, and that doesn't make it an easy task.)

[And here the action starts:]

5 minutes later, dad is still lying in bed awake, and can't remember if he's already gone to the bathroom or not.
Dad get's out of bed.
'What do you want, dad?'
'I want to go to the bath room'.
'You just went to the bathroom'.
'I did?'
'Yes, you did'.
'OK. Then I guess I want to go back to bed'.

John physically put's dad back in bed.

5 minutes later, and dad is out of bed again.
'What do you want, dad?'
'I want to go back to bed'.
John physically put's dad back in bed.

5 minutes later...

you get the idea.

We already tried 3 types of sleeping pills. Either with no efect, or with opposite effect (they arouse dad...).

John collapsed.

We've been taking turn leaving our families for the night, and sleeping (or to be more accurate - not sleeping) in dad's place.

We're anxiously awaiting to see an Alzheimer specialist in several days.
John said he's counting the days (or is he counting the nights?) until the doctors appointment.