Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Anorexia

His walker, missing yesterday, has been returned. The PSW tells me that Dad has been up at night. He tore up his room, they tell me. He is wandering down the hall. The charge nurse tells me that they give him some Ativan to calm him down. I think I could use one. I wonder what all these drugs do to him.

Lately, after checking with the dietician, I know now that Dad has only eaten about 25 % - 50 % of two meals in two weeks. They keep careful records and weigh the patients regularly. He is refusing most meals. He is still refusing his bath. It must be scary. A big, new room with strangers lifting him up in the hoist isn’t the easiest of scenarios. He grabbed the arm of one of the attendants in his fit of agitation. They decide to give up the bath notion.

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