Kelley Irwin

One day in May 2022 at 4:00 am, my mom called. Dad fell and she doesn’t know what is wrong with him. She isn’t able to lift him so she sat on the floor beside him and comforted him and finally encouraged him to make it back into his bed. Fever, disoriented, and other symptoms that escape my mind now. My father was in good physical shape for an 84 year old and had never fallen before. She called 911 and after a COVID test and other preliminary assessment, he was taken to the hospital.

Low blood pressure, fever, and a diagnosis of pneumonia. Dad said “okay, we can go home now”. Mom intervened and they both stayed overnight. Many phone calls and texts and discussions and he was being treated for the pneumonia, but very agitated at being in a hospital. I told him he wasn’t in charge right now and he called me “smarty pants”. When he couldn’t answer some of the questions about his recent health, Mom told the doctor he had mild cognitive issues and he said “nobody needs to know our business”. Both comments normal for my dad. I booked a ticket and would arrive the next day.

I am sitting in the airport waiting for a connection and Mom sends a photo of the two of them leaving the hospital. Big smiles on both their faces. All I can think of is Bonnie and Clyde making a grand escape.

I told them to stay home and rest and I would take a taxi when I arrived. As I left the security area in the airport, I wasn’t completely surprised to see my parents waiting for me. Always there. Always happy to see me.

This was just the beginning as it would be many months before the reality of a dementia diagnosis was spoken.