Two sides, one coin

Sometimes I feel all alone.  When my parents bought their home here in Bentonville, it was because they knew that one day they would need help-they believed that I was the child to be that help.  I began regular visits and helping with things long before they even thought about moving here.  I was there with Mom at her very first memory text when they told her she had "mild cognitive impairment" and I was with her a month later when her heart quit beating way too many times....that was the beginning of my life as a member of the sandwich generation raising my children and caring for my parents. Back in 2008 my parents lived 16 miles from my sister yet I was the one.

I continued to be the one until last year when the time came and we had to disable my dads pickup.  We had talked to him for months about the words from the doctor and how he had to quit driving.  He adamantly refused so we removed the battery.  Up until that point, my sister had remained oblivious and unconcerned about my parents health.  When my mom accompanied me on an overnight trip to Little Rock the unthinkable happened, Dad called the one person in Arkansas he knew that wasn't in my family.  To this day we have no idea what story he concocted but this man went and purchased dad a new battery for his truck and off dad drove.  I knew I had to enlist the help of my sister and tell her about dads diagnosis from the doctor.  Dad was angry  because we did remove the battery a second time and I told him that we were going to have to call my sister and tell her the truth.  Well, on the day we had agreed to sit down and call together Dad beat me to the punch...he called my sister while I was taking mom to get her hair done.  Rather than telling her about the doctor and his diagnosis he skipped to the part where my husband "stole" his battery TWICE!  When we sat down to call her together she was already angry at me for being so mean.  She promptly rushed to Bentonville to make sure dad was being treated correctly, we went to the doctors office where the social worker spent an hour trying to explain dads condition to my sister to no avail she like my dad couldn't hear the truth.

Dad began asking for a second opinion (in all reality dad had already undergone 2 full evaluations by two different qualified geriatric neuropsychologist whose diagnosis was agreed on by his neurologist and primary care physician) which was totally fine with me.  The social worker tried to impress the futility of seeking an additional opinion and how it would only lead to him wanting another opinion or causing him extreme frustration.  Of course my sister, being the savior, swept in to get dad that second opinion.  Rather than go directly to the neuropsych doctor who had been recommended by family, she sought an opinion and referral from her personal doctor who referred us to a neurologist who referred us to the neuropsych.  These appointments stretched out from July 2017 through April 2018.  It took 9 months for dad to receive a letter from the doctor outlining in even more depth all the things he'd already been told and a follow up with the neurologist who verbally told him the same things.  My sister received a copy of the letter and was there to hear the doctor in person.

It all seemed crystal clear until dad got an announcement about a tax class, he insisted he needed to take it to stay informed for next year.  Mind you he's been told by multiple doctors that it is not advisable for him to continue doing taxes, at the very least he needs to send a letter to his clients letting them know his condition so they can make an informed decision.  Dads flavor of dementia means he lacks logic and insight, going to a class means he's qualified which "in his opinion" means it's okay for him to continue doing taxes.   We have to not allow him to attend the class.  We'd talked about it several times, and I was encouraging him to slow down and not attend the class.

Of course that didn't work.  I heard everything from "Deborah will come get me and I'll go" to "Give me the keys and I"ll drive myself" and even "Maybe I an get a bus ticket to go to the class."  Mind you I have been more than happy to take Dad to classes in the past, to birthday parties, Masonic Lodge events, investment club meetings, anniversaries, etc. but like the battery, it's time for me to be the child who is like the disciplinarian parent-the one who enforces the rules.  Next thing we know dad has sent in the class reservation ($195/person) for my sister and him.  She's coming to get him AND attending the class with him.  She doesn't seem to understand that by allowing him to take the classes is giving him permission to continue.  Dad has promised in the past to slow down, reduce the number of taxes he will do, etc. then my sister refuses to help me enforce it and she lets him continue.  I'm really concerned that her inability to face reality is going to cause him to have more stress in the long run or he's going to make a mistake that will cost someone a large amount of money.

How is it possible that we can both get the same information yet see two completely different things?