On Thanksgiving day, my mom and I went to visit my dad in the behavioral health unit of Baton Rouge General. My dad has had severe mental health issues my entire life. Bipolar, depression, anxiety, and possibly schizophrenia. He has spent the majority of this last year in and out of mental institutions. My dad’s psychiatrist of the last 30+ years died in 2021. The new doctors keep changing his medication and now my dad isn’t the same anymore.

Before we left the house my mom call and asked if we could bring him Thanksgiving dinner and the facility said, “outside food is not allowed in the unit.” We were escorted to the visitor’s room and a few minutes later an aide rolled my dad into the room in a wheelchair. He has been having trouble walking for a while. He uses a walker at home. Seeing him in the wheelchair made it all real to me. My dad needs a wheelchair. He did not know that I was coming with my mom so when his eyes caught my eyes the excitement was undeniable.

It was my first visit seeing him in the hospital. My dad has been in and out of mental institutions my entire life for erratic behavior. However, I can count on one hand how many times I have actually seen him in that state. My parent’s still think of me as a their baby. I am the youngest of two. They have sheltered me from the whole story my entire life. On the other hand, my sister is older. She was not able to receive that same shelter growing up unfortunately. Therefore, she and I have different relationships with our dad.

The visit was short, but pleasant. No appearance of erratic behavior. His words were clear. He apologized for ruining the holiday and my birthday. He did not ruin anything. My mom was able to sneak in some Barq’s root beer for him. He smiled. He was happy. We talked about cars and had some small talk. He remembered a conversation he had with my son from the summer about Mason’s Thanksgiving plans. My dad adores my son. Mason is my dad’s only grandson.

This last week the doctors were changing some of my dad’s medications and he would be ready for discharge on Black Friday.

Black Friday came. My mom went to get him. I met them at the front door. This time when my dad’s eyes caught mine he started crying. Wailing. I did not know what to do. For some reason, the only words that came to me were, “how are you doing?” I was pretty sure that those were not the right words and this was not the right time. I guided him to his room. I stood next to him in silence as he continued to cry.

This was all unreal to me. My dad sat in the room for hours crying and refusing to eat anything. This is how they discharged him? Is he somehow better? Cannot be! Seeing my dad this way was extremely painful. My mom has to function like this daily!?! How?!?

How does it make me feel? Let me get my feelings wheel out.

Helpless. I feel helpless. I don’t have the words to say that will fix it all. I don’t know what to do. How can I help him? How can I help my mom as his caregiver?

What am I supposed to do?

Xoxo

Lesson: Make sure that I have long term care coverage.

Question: The roles are changing as we age. Who am I now that I’m no longer the baby of the family?