Facing the Future

Today when I visited my parents I wondered how the hell I will be able to deal with the new situation. My dad is hallucinating. He cannot walk and needs a wheelchair. He is incontinent. I am not a large, strong person. I cannot heft a man weighing 169 pounds into and out of a car into a wheelchair. I cannot even lift and easily fold a wheelchair and pack it into my small car. Yet I must. I must take him to more doctor appointments than ever. I must now manage many things that he himself managed, like my mom. It was my dad who kept her under control. Now she is ranging wild, waking him up every five minutes to see if he is still breathing, sitting teary-eyed in her bed all day long now that she cannot go to the Center because it was he who watched after her on the bus and at the Center, so she wouldn't just walk out the door and disappear. Who knows how I will manage it. I guess I will learn who I can ask for help. There must be some agencies available out there to help me if I need them because I don't see how I will do it myself.
Of course, my dad was like this after his first stroke. He eventually came out of it. Perhaps that will happen again. Perhaps. I have noticed for some time that he has been failing in many ways. It evidently isn't going to happen fast and mercifully, but slowly, as one thing after the other is stripped from him cruelly. That is terrible to witness, but it is the way of things quite often.