I guess I have been kind of avoiding the subject of when I had to go to the rehibilitation center to visit my father after his episode of pneumonia.
Sunday, I had to go to my father's room to pick up the apartment keys so that I could get into his place and pick up the items that he requested. Taking this trip to where he is now, and down to his place, and then go back to the rehibilitation center, put close to 100 miles on our car! That is not even exaggerating.
After we had gotten the keys, I grabbed his mail, then I went in with a mask and some gloves on. My father lives in a small studio apartment, so I thought that this was not going to take that long. I was in there for about an hour because what I saw was just gross! Now I know that my father is not a neat person, but this was discusting.
You could barely walk in there. When I headed to the bathroom, the toilet seat was up and there were at least a couple dozen small fuit flies sworming around the bowl. I put the seat down and they seemed to disappear. I opened up the windows, and I sprayed with disinfectant on walls, door handles, chairs, etc. I unplugged the fridge and threw everything out. I took his garbage out, spayed inside and out of the garbage can, and found another dozen or so fruit flies sworming the kitchen sink. The floors were filthy and everything. He hadn't been in his apartment for a week, but I couldn't believe how in bad shape the place was.
He didn't have enough underwear and shirts and the dresser drawers had more junk in them than cloths. After I got out of there, I had the heebie jeebies. I kept thinking I had flies in my hair. It was creepy. I got the gloves off, used the hand sanitizer in my purse and tried to shake this whole ordeal off. I even washed off his apartment keys!
We headed to a Big Kmart down the road to buy more shirts and underwear for him because the underwear in his place, I wouldn't even touch!
I brought the stuff back to his room at the rehibilitation center, but he had gone to lunch, so I left him a note on his bed and on the bag of his items in his closet there.
Later that evening, I talked to my dad on the phone and I explained how bad it was, but I didn't scold him or anything.
I really don't want to go back in his apartment, but if he needs me to help him clean up when he gets home I will.
I felt sorry for him, being that he is legally blind (he can see, but not too well, but enough to get by), and that he is 76 years old. My old man is just too stubourne to ask for help and i guess I am just going to have to help him whether he likes it or not!