Crumpled, rumpled us.

This role reversal business is tricky.
You think that one aspect will be the one that is most difficult and it turns out to be nothing.
Then, when you relax, something seemingly inconsequential sends your parent off the deep end. The generational shift is showing.

No matter what anyone asks, my parent was trained to say everything was fine.
Nothing hurts, suck it up, don't ask, don't tell, mind your own business and whatever you do, remember the neighbours might hear. It did not take with me, but it sure works for my parent.

"Don't make me leave signs. Community Health Workers hate going into houses where there are little taped up notes from family members."

The threat of notes worked. The transfer belt is in use. *whew*
Now, if we could just get the Office to tell people NOT to buzz the door.
It kind of defeats the purpose when they ring the building buzzer.
They are coming to help get my parent up. The buzzer is in the hallway. So to answer he has to get out of bed. The thing they are coming to make sure is done safely. Such a minor thing but jeepers. Three days in a row.

We went for appointment #1 today, confirming hearing loss is moderate to severe.
Thankfully, here in this country we are finally LAUDING our Veterans.
This includes taking responsibility (after much dying off of veterans) for conditions of service that culminated in health problems. I know that my parent lost both extensive hearing AND sense of smell working on Tankers during WWII. In his working years, noone cared that his hearing was taking nosedives. At home we all just accomodated his need for a blaring television
and took for granted his peaceful ways and calm attitude in a home full of howling estrogen.
If we had only known.
If he had only known.
Come to think of it... there is a blessing in everything. *Wink*

Now looms the rest of the week and much more serious appointments with much more dire possible consequences. I will get through with much prayer. My parent, with much Codeine.
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