Thread:Betty2015/@comment-28694170-20161015111552

Yesterday was the long awaited appointment with the neurologist where I would hopefully get answers for my Dad's drowsiness. I went to the Care Centre to meet my Dad so that we could ride the DATS (Disabled Adult Transportation System) to his appointment. I found him slumped over in his wheelchair and extremely drowsy. I knew something was wrong. The appointment confirmed my worst fears, but at least I had an explanation for his drowsiness. The Parkinson's was advancing. His sleep cycle was affected by the Parkinson's. His quality of sleep was fluctuating with each night. Some days he would be drowsy, and other days he would be fine. His leaning over to one side was also a symptom of the Parkinson's.

Through tears, I asked if he could die from Parkinson's. I was told "yes." I asked for her best guess on his life expectancy. She hesitated to say, but I pushed for an answer. She said one or two years. On the positive side, she said that he is resilient. He has outlived her expectations, as he was diagnosed three years ago. I asked if there are symptoms for when the end is near, and she told me that his breathing would be laboured.

I was trying to "play" the DATS booking system by requesting a late pick-up, cancelling it, and then requesting a same-day pick-up. They always require two hours notice for any cancellation, or you get a "strike." Three strikes, and he loses his DATS privileges. It is extremely difficult to anticipate how long a medical appointment will take. I planned to request a same-day pickup and to take my chances. They changed their policy within the last two weeks, and same-day requests have a minimum wait time of two hours. Had I known that, I would have called them the minute we went in to see the neurologist. Thankfully, I had grabbed a couple of food things for him while we were at the Care Centre. Seeing him clumped over in the wheelchair nearly killed me (yes, I am being overly dramatic). DATS could not get there fast enough. To top off a crappy day, Edmonton was hit with their first snow storm. While we were waiting, my Dad's breathing was laboured, and a part of me wondered if he would die right there waiting for a stupid DATS bus.

They did finally arrive, and the driver had a Dad who had the same illness as my Dad. She got us back as quickly as she could. I knew that I had worn my Dad out. Although he had missed lunch, he was not hungry, so I asked the staff to put him to bed and let him rest. I left to collect my own thoughts. Later yesterday evening, I got a call that my Dad was found lying on the floor, as he had tried to get out of bed to get himself to the bathroom. "Oi vey" is all I have to say. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oy_vey

I know where my Dad is going when he dies, and he knows where he is going. I talked to a close friend, and I came to the realization that I would rather he die sooner than later. Later symptoms could include an advancement in his dementia, and it is possible that he would not recognize any of us. 