Called Daddy yesterday.

He was just as confused as ever. Guess that miracle cure didn't work. Idjits, all of them.
The Nurse that answered the phone call was really quite confused herself...she asked me 3 times if I was asking to talk to my Dad. The way she spoke sounded like she had a gag in her mouth, it was really strange. More and more I feel I get sufficient evidence to prove my theory that the doctors and Nurse's are nipping into the patients drugs.
Once my Dad finally got on the phone, which took quite some time, he was very tearful and thought he was in Los Angeles. He asked me where I was living now. He also said that the Doctor's been telling him that me and brother "are in big trouble". It's stuff like that that makes me wonder if I can believe anything, or even bits, of what my Dad thinks or says...because that last part I would wholly believe if there was no reason for me to question Daddy's words.
Anyway, not much of our conversation took place in reality, and much of it was spent with me repeating myself several times because he couldn't hear me, and then about 10 minutes was used with me trying to tell him mine and brother's phone numbers...he ended up flagging someone down to write it down for him. And they were NOT nice. At one point, Daddy put the phone down and started walking away to ask if one the Nurse's could write my number down for him and I immediately heard her YELL, "HEY! What do you think YOU'RE DOING????". There was no asking nicely...it was zero to screaming in half a second. She wasn't much nicer to me when she was taking down my number either.
Why do these people take these jobs, and how is it that they qualify to be hired or keep them? Is there no one there that sees or hears clearly that supervises?
These things never change. It's just disgusting.
I know first hand just how frustrating it is to care for someone with my Dad's mental status...but these people are supposed to be trained...they purposely sought out this job...and are being paid to do it...then they get to take breaks and get to go home...to get away from the craziness as it should be. They knew what they were applying for when they took the job.
Not a whole lot else to report. I am still making phone calls about funeral pre-arrangements, trying to find EXACTLY what Daddy would want, making sure everything is cemented...which is hard because asking him questions isn't very fruitful most days.
I still don't feel at ease despite the fact that I am clearly getting some respite from Lewy. I don't know if this is just how I am wired...to be a worrier...but I am just not okay with my Dad being where he is and how this all happened. Lately my only real rest (in my head) from this all is to try to pretend I "don't know"...which doesn't really work, but sometimes I get a stretch of time when I don't think about all of this and feel tears start to form. I guess that's something.
I am hoping that nothing happens before Thursday, that is my Alzheimer's group day. The reason I say that is because I feel that I compromise a good 15-20 minutes of every meeting because SO much is always going on. Of course they ask and want to know what is happening...and we are ALL learning from my experience with this stuff for sure...but I need a break from myself and this. Even if there is drama in the next 3 days, I am keeping quiet at the meeting, let someone else talk.
I just laughed out loud at that.
Is that even possible? Ha.