The Things We Take For Granted

It took some time but we finally got to the bedroom. I timed it at thirty-seven minutes exactly. Each night, my father's ritual is the same. Some nights he moves faster than others. Last night, he was moving pretty slow. He starts by announcing that it's time for bed. This happens downstairs, usually between 8 and 10 PM. After this, he ascends the staircase in a motorized chair lift while I follow on the stairs behind him. Since I've been here taking care of him, each time he's situated and ready to press the button, I say "...five, four, three, two, one...we have liftoff!" He always laughs at this. When we get to the top, he slowly moves out of the chair and grabs hold of a walker waiting at the top. The upstairs bathroom is adjacent to the top of the stairs so it's a short trip to the toilet. Here, I remove his jacket, then proceed to remove his tennis shoes, surgical stockings, shorts or pants (depending on weather), Depends undergarment (immediately tossed into the trashbasket. Sometimes I hit and sometimes I miss) and shirt. We place his glasses on the window sill and I get him a cup of water and his PM pills. He takes his pills and then we dress him for bed: a new Depends (lined with additional strip for extra protection), fresh shirt, pajama bottoms, white socks, and slippers. He struggles to pull the pajama bottoms up himself but always ends up needing assistance in the end. After all this, he clutches the walker and we're off to the bedroom at the end of the hall. This is the trip that took 37 minutes last night. When we get to the bed, he situates himself on the edge, I remove his slippers placing them on the walker's shelf, and get him positioned over the mat that protects the fitted bedsheet from soiling. After he's tucked in I ask him if he's allright. Tonight he responded, "What do you think?" I wasn't sure what to say. But I can write what I really think here. Why do we take so much for granted? Is it because we don't want to know how terrible things could be? Is it because we really don't know how good we've got it until the rug is swept out from under us? As glad as I am to know that my dad's okay and safe from harm each night as he's tucked into bed, I am saddened that he can no longer do so many of the things the rest of us take for granted.

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Thomas Boylan · Thethingswetakeforgranted.WAV