No, not that annual day in June, this is the monthly day when I run my dad's errands. Today was the day.

Dad had a doctor's appointment at 10:00 AM. Knowing his concern for being on time, I was at his house shortly after 9:00. I delivered the groceries from Sam's Club that Lee had thoughtfully shopped for the night before. One errand saved for me.

We went to the doctor's office. He has a new doctor. He's mostly blind, 90 years old, and shakes like a leaf. He's also tottery on his feet. So I hold his arm from the parking lot to the waiting room where we sat an waited for half an hour or so, down the hall to the actual office, back out to the appointment desk, and then back out to the parking lot. Ow. The doctor mentions that Dad has alzheimer's. Now, I go with my dad to ALL of his doctor's appointments. No one EVER mentioned alzheimer's before. Not EVER. And when they give him the cognitive test, he only forgot one thing that they asked him. He couldn't complete the visual sections because he couldn't see them. So, the doctor is convinced that even though dad was on the border of cognitive disability (at 90 years old, mind you!) that he has alzheimer's.

He asks Dad about his blood sugars. Dad doesn't test every day because he is so shaky he has trouble making the little machine work right, and not gashing himself with the lancet. Now the doctor is worried and has the nurse check his sugar, which is 90---just fine for the middle of the morning. And of course, Dad has lost weight, again. He used to be 5'9" and 180 lbs. He's now very stooped and short, and weighs 130. I'm encouraging him to add more protein to his diet. He's not always as hungry as he ought to be.

I mention to the doctor that dad still lives alone. (I think the doctor is convinced that I'm the one forcing him to live there. In reality, Dad says that when he can no longer live alone, he'd like to just shoot himself, rather than go to assisted living or coming to live with us. My theory is that I won't fight him about it till it's necessary for him to have full-time help.) The doctor decides he is sending someone to inspect dad's home and see if it is safe for him to live there. (He's lived there for nearly 50 years.) He also wants to put dad in physical therapy. Dad spends his days pulling weeds, and he likes it that way. He putters around in his garden, and it makes him happy. He goes up and down the stairs to his house to do this. My only concern in all of this is that he won't use a walker, and he's tottery. The doctor wants to send a physical therapist to my father's house 2-3 times a week.

Well, he has fallen. His neighbor HEARD him fall as he was coming to the door. He got right back up and answered the door, still, so he wasn't hurt, but he fell. I want him to use the walker. When I mention this to the doctor, he not only tells Dad to use the walker all the time, but starts in on physical therapy and a home inspection.

Now, if he needs full time assistance, he's welcome to live with us, or we'll put him in an assisted living facility. His choice, as far as I'm concerned. After all, he's the one being asked to give up his whole way of life. And I have a garden he could putter in.

My sisters are more concerned about how much all of this will cost and whether they will get their inheritance, still, than anything else, it seems. Apparently, my middle sister thinks she will be able to get her own apartment, again, with Dad's money. He doesn't have THAT much!

Anyway, after dealing with the whole doctor's office mess, we drive through and pick up lunch on the way back to his house. This is a monthly ritual. He has a cheeseburger and a vanilla milkshake. We discuss the fact that he needs to eat more protein. Apples and crackers are NOT a sufficient lunch. He should have some meat, cheese, or even peanut butter with that. He decides to send me to the store for pre-cooked chicken breasts. He mentions that he loves bacon, but can't have it because he can't cook it. I point out that I've SEEN pre-cooked bacon at the store, and would be delighted to pick some up for him. He wants 5 pounds!

So obviously, after lunch, I'm off to the store. I also need to pick up crimp beads and a catch to finish a necklace that Dad started for one cousin, whom he then had a tiff with, and is now giving to another cousin. No problem. He can't string it himself, he shakes too much, and I can't find any crimp beads in my house to save my life. So, I stop at Michael's and get beading supplies. I stop at Stater Bros. for pre-cooked meat. And I'm back to Dad's house, my back aching to beat the band, and dripping sweat from overdoing it. (It's not even 65 degrees out.)

I spend the a couple of hours restringing the necklace so that it's more consistent, and finishing it properly. (Real silver beads are hollow, which means you not only have to thread things through the entryway, you then have to get them to find their way out the other side. Frustrating as all get-out!)

Then, Dad has mentioned that he needs his finger and toe nails trimmed. I brought scizzors, just in case. But he has his nail clippers, and that's mostly what I use. His finger nails are no big deal, but he thinks I'm clipping his fingertips off if I get anywhere near his skin with the clippers. I leave his finger nails a little long.

His toe nails have grown out, down, and under his toes, leaving him with what look like toe caps instead of toe nails. And of course, there's all the crap that tends to show up under anyone's trimmed toe nails. Ew.

Finally, everything is done. It's 4:20, but everything he needed is done. I even get home just before 5:00, when the younger step-daughter comes in from her guitar lesson. And just minutes before the older one calls and wants to be picked up from band. Fortunately, Dad was already on his way home, and able to swing by and pick her up. I'm really worn out, and I hurt all over my body. I've definitely had my workout for the day!

When Lee went back to work, I realized just how spoiled I have been for the last year and half while he's been job-hunting. I also realized that he would have less time to do the many things he does for our family and our home.

I resolved to take up some of the slack. I've been trying to do the dishes at least once a day, and a load of laundry each day. Now, that doesn't sound like much, but dishes require me to be on my feet, so the back kicks in. Laundry has to be carried down the stairs before it can be washed, and has to be lifted out of the washer to go into the dryer. Again with the back.

Combined with my spinning, and the NaNoWriMo project I'm working on, this fills up a large portion of my day.

My publisher has just announced that Lilley Press is closing. That means slush reading is going away. I'll miss the slush, and the people from Lilley.

I've also been picking teenagers up from school, and dropping them back off there when they have to be back before Lee gets home. Getting in and out of the car is hard on the back, too. It also takes up time.

So between these things, Tribe, and Facebook, my day is pretty full until Lee comes home. Then, I try to sit quietly and knit on the Christmas presents while watching TV.

I figure that at least dishes and laundry are two less things that Lee has to do, and it's supposed to be good for me to move around more. We still take Raleigh for his nightly walk, of course. That owl is still out there, somewhere, and Raleigh can't go THAT long without going outside. I even scrubbed toilets, yesterday. It was an ambitious day. I'm starting to feel like Suzy Homemaker.