by Jenny Tolley

Created on: June 03, 2008

It's finally happened. My father has officially become an old man, complete with the chronic illnesses that often go along with being elderly. Granted, I never knew my father as a young man. I was born when he was 39 years old and my first memories of him are as a silvery haired middle aged man who still liked to do things like go white water rafting and jumping off cliffs into mountain ponds. My father had always had a strong sense of independence and an adventurous spirit. He also has a serious problem with alcohol, which is part of the reason why he's now a sick old man.

I knew it was coming. About a year ago, my father had surgery on his middle finger. He injured it one night while he was having a bad dream, perhaps brought on by the post traumatic stress disorder he's dealt with since his days spent fighting in the Vietnam War. The finger was hurt so badly that a hand surgeon had to put pins in it to straighten it out. My dad had the surgery, but he neglected to take care of the finger. He didn't keep the bandages clean or wear a splint. It got infected and he came very close to losing his finger. All the while, he was still drinking heavily.

Fortunately, the middle finger crisis finally passed and my father went back to work at his job on a golf course. He drove to work early every morning and battled heavy traffic in the evenings. I was alarmed when my mother told me that my dad had a minor accident one night while trying to merge into interstate traffic. Luckily, no one was hurt and his insurance company covered the damage to his truck. Life went on.

Then, a few months ago, my parents told me that my father needed surgery on his back. Some of the ligaments and nerves near his spine were compressed and he was having to walk stooped over. My mom told me that my dad had spinal stenosis and it could be fixed by surgery and a few days in the hospital. The big day was set for March 6. My father was told that he shouldn't drink alcohol before he had his surgery.

The back surgery went well and my father woke up as planned. The normalcy lasted for about an hour and then he went into some sort of semi-conscious state that lasted for weeks. It turned out that the complication was related to his alcohol consumption, which, as my mother soon discovered, must have been huge. She found dozens of liquor bottles stashed in his bedroom in their home. He had been told not to drink before the surgery, but my father is an alcoholic who has twice failed rehab. He was unable to stop drinking, even though his doctor had ordered him to stop.

It is now early June and my father is still in the hospital. Over the past few months, he's had to endure a tracheotomy and has been repeatedly drugged with powerful anti-psychotic medication to keep him from being combative. He is frequently restrained, to keep him from pulling out the many tubes that are in his body. He's able to walk, but not for very long. He can only eat pureed food or be tube fed, although he still has the desire to eat a hamburger. My mother says his mind is "gone". When he's well enough, he will not be going back to their home. Instead, he will have to check into a nursing home.

My father is now 75 years old. I guess I should feel fortunate that he's lived this long and has been relatively healthy, despite his problem with alcohol. However, my father lost his mother only last year. She was almost 101 years old when she passed away and was still mentally sharp. I can't help but wonder if, had he not been an alcoholic, he would have been able to live as she did, unfettered by dementia. As it stands now, I wonder how much longer I will have my father.

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