Sound Bites

Here is a sampling of some of the outrageous things my father has said to me over the years:

"You can't trust nobody" Dad never was the grammatical wizard.

"Get have (rhymes with 'rave')" As opposed to 'behave'.  See above.

"Don't worry about that boy, just get your education" This was in response to my teen angst.

"Stay away from those casinos" He was probably right about this one.

"Never get involved with a lawman, they are all cheaters." Again...probably right about this one as well.

"You should go to law school since you like to argue so much" Should have listened to this one.

"Stay away from that interweb, your bank account will be empty the next day" Ummmmm...

"Eat more raisins" In response to whatever ailed me.

As outrageous as these statements (and many many more) sounded to me over the years, nothing could have prepared me for what was coming out of his mouth yesterday when I visited him in the ICU.  Yesterday was his first awake and alert day since the bypass surgery on Tuesday.  When I entered the room, he was sitting up and his eyes were open.  I was so happy to see him at least looking like dad again.  Then, I sat down and began the following conversation (condensed):

me: "Hey daddy!! I am so glad to see you awake!"
dad: "Yep, I'm going to be awake from now on"
me: "Good! How are you feeling?"
dad: "Guess you and your sister gone be fussing and arguing from now on"
me: "ummmm, what?"
dad: "I hear gospel music"
me: "I don't hear any gospel music"
dad: "Well, you don't go anywhere!!"
dad: "Now, let me get my pants on and let's get out of here."
me: "You don't have any pants daddy, you are in the bed"
dad: "I know damn well I do"
me: "What year is it?"
dad: "2007"
me: "what is my name?"
dad: "I have no idea"
me: "What is your dog's name?"
dad: "Rusty"
The doctor enters
doctor: "what's your name?"
dad says his name
doctor: "Why are you here?"
dad: "I just came in here to look around."
doctor leaves
dad: "let's go home"
me: "Where's home?"
dad: "the last place I lived."
dad: "Grandma's going to fall off the table."
me: "well alright daddy, I'm gonna go."
dad: "ok!"
me: "I love you"
dad: "I love you too."

Jesus Christ.  I had so hoped he would wake up, and I am glad he did.  Once again, a case of getting exactly what I asked for.  Now I must alter my petition and ask that my dad gets back to his right mind...quick.  I am fairly sure it is the Morphine that is causing him to converse in an alternate reality; and he still needs the pain control, but how long is too long for him to be on vacation from his normal oriented self? 

I have spent the better part of the last 4 years counseling families of dementia patients on acceptance.  Sitting in that hospital room last night, I forgot every single buzzword I had exhausted.  I found myself in their shoes, convinced that this could not be the reality from now on.  I remembered how frustrated I would get with families that "just didn't get it".  I now felt their frustration with me. 

Today I will visit again, hoping to see a little more of him through the fog.  I would spend a lifetime listening to dire warnings about the evils of the internet, cops, and casinos if I could just have my overly cautious, yet completely oriented, daddy back.