October 8-9, 2002
No Miles No Map
While my parents were obviously glad to see me, there weren’t many questions about my five week journey. It was not something they could relate to. While I was on my ride, my mother’s main concern was having a rescue plan in place in the event something catastrophic happened to me. And though dad had been tracking my progress with notations on his Rand-McNally map, once I’d safely arrived his focus naturally turned to the Major Fall Project: raking and burning the millions of leaves soon to be falling from the mini forest in the front yard.
We did at least go out for a celebratory dinner once I’d unpacked the bike and got myself cleaned up, but since then it’s been like all my other visits of recent years. I have taken up my usual duties, spending one afternoon making a crockpot full of chili (something I’d been hankering for) and running a few errands. I also did some of the driving when dad went to the V.A. Hospital down in Des Moines. It’s become a family tradition that whenever we happen to be in the capital city, we make a stop at the world famous Prairie Meadows Racetrack to play the slot machines, a priority that easily ranks up there with any visits to the doctor. Once again I had my usual miserable luck, but any lingering annoyance was soon erased by the warm glow of my completed bike adventure.
The reason for dad’s visit to the V.A. are the memory troubles that have become noticeable the past few years (both he and mom are in their early seventies). He often loses the thread of conversations and cannot recall recent events. The family is concerned this might signal the onset of Alz-heimer’s, but there’s no way of testing for it outside of an autopsy. The V.A.’s initial prognosis, pending the blood work, is that there’s nothing wrong with him; he just needs to be eating more. Not sure how confident I am in that.
Our parents’ home care is a worry as well. About a decade ago, only a few months after dad’s early retirement, mom developed problems with the nerves in one of her feet (neuropathy) that forced her to start using a cain. Her mobility has continued to decline and it’s now a real effort just to get around the house. Any serious cooking is too much and with dad not knowing his way around the kitchen, they are eating a lot of less-than-healthy processed foods along with Meals On Wheels.
Obviously both of them are going to be needing more specialized help. It’s just a question of how soon.
Today: None — Two Rest Days
To Date: 1,748 Miles / 2,813 Kilometers
Special Note: In less than five years, both my parents would be dead. My mother from a heart attack and Type 2 Diabetes, and dad from dementia complications coupled with, probably, the grief over his wife’s passing.