About Dad and that really wrong diagnosis

This past Sunday was Father’s Day and while I still miss my father, I wasn’t that broken up about it…this time.  How emotional I get about certain holidays and birthdays varies; I think I am moving on and I am not that saddened when these certain times come around.  Oh sure I still and will always miss him but I just don’t cry like I used to.  But on to what this post is really about.

Dad, like mom, was not about going to the doctor for anything.  Home remedies where their mantra even though they did take me to the doctor because I had asthma but as for them? Short of something major – and I do mean major like needing stitches – they never went.  So as mom continued to spiral down into Alzheimer’s, his body was failing him and an insidious disease was beginning to creep through his body.

I had noticed that dad was limping more and my concerns were brushed off with the cursory “I’m fine, just getting old!”  At the time he really wasn’t that old (late 60’s, very early 70’s) but I knew something was wrong; again as with mom not what.  Push came to shove and after some pleading and nagging and his realizing things were not getting better I found a doctor to take him to.  I believe he was an internist and I regret that I ever took him there.

Why? Well it took hell and high water to get him and mom to that office (I had to beg them for a time period when other people wouldn’t be there as by this time her behavior from the dementia was getting out of hand; more about that side of the visit later) and once there I had to stay out in the waiting room with mom to keep her from bolting or doing something not socially acceptable.  Therefore I couldn’t go back with dad to ask any questions or to express my concerns.

Dad was having great difficulty walking by this time which was so different from how they both had been a few years earlier before mom’s dementia came calling, when they used to go mall walking; and he often had to hold onto things like walls or chairs or whatever was handy to move around.  When he came out from the exam room mom made straight for him and began to tug at him faster than he could walk towards the door out.

I had to try and do three things at once: watch out for mom, watch out for dad being pulled by mom, and try to have a conversation with the doctor.  The doctor told me that he felt that dad had the beginnings of Parkinson’s based upon his quick assessment of taking vitals and watching him walk back and forth; he had the shuffle walk, stiffness, and poor balance which can be attributed to Parkinson’s.  I don’t recall if he was given a prescription or not although I do have a vague memory of trying to keep the two of them together at a pharmacy one time.

If there was a prescription given I am sure daddy took it for a few days, didn’t feel any change in his condition, and then stopped taking the medication – sigh.  As time went on his ability to walk became more and more difficult with him having to use a cane and then….  I will save the and then for a future post because guess what?  He didn’t have Parkinson’s.  It was something else, something that eventually took both of his legs and eventually his life – diabetes.  What he was experiencing were the nerves (neuropathy) and blood circulation in his legs being damaged by that disease.

What I am trying to encourage you who are at any stage of caregiving  is this.  No doctor on this planet is God.  They make mistakes and some of them are really crappy.  This doctor didn’t test dad for anything; he just had him walk back and forth.  I’m sure dad did not tell him everything about his symptoms and that is why I wish I could’ve gone back there with him.  Maybe if he had gotten a proper diagnosis the diabetes might have been controlled and his standard of living might have been better.  Maybe.  I implore you that have loved one you are caring for to do your damnedest to talk to their doctors (if and when you can get them in) about the symptoms and signs you see about their health.

True, medical professionals go a bit bonkers over patients who come in with a self diagnosis after having seen one commercial too many or after having surfed WebMD.com  but I’d rather you drive them crazy and ask them to rule out something than to miss it all together.  You have to be your and your loved ones advocate when it comes to medical care.  Doctors don’t always get it right, patients who are afraid, elderly, sick, or with dementia don’t always tell the full story.

When in doubt (and if you can afford it) get a second opinion!

 

 

 

 

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