Baba's world

Baba has an unfettered love of life: flowers, bees with pollen on their legs (I once witnessed him trying to pet one), animals, old and young, neighbors, trees, his children and grandchildren - it is endearing.

Dede loving Tuana

Baba has never seemed fully with it since I've met him.  Part of it is his hearing, part of it is the language cultural barrier and me not being able to read him.  And part of it's him.  At some point Tolga took over being the dad in the family and Baba seemed to happily recede to his childlike self.  Dementia seems to come and go - but again, it's always been hard for me to tell because some of his beliefs have sounded like dementia to me  (i.e. lemon water will counter the effects of sugar in his body after eating a forbidden sweet).

He began anti-psychotic drugs last year when his dementia seemed to climax with hallucinations and OCD behaviors.  He went on medication and they all went to Kusadasi to distract themselves with something beautiful.  Instead, in-between gardening, wet socks, and poor hygiene - Baba's toes turned black and spring was taken up with visits to the hospital, hyperbaric chamber treatments, and eventual amputation of his toes.  (Someone told us the oxygen helped his brain.)  He lost his appetite of this period of time, and some weight as well.  No one forgot about his dementia, but I think they wanted to believe it went away or got better.  

But these things don't just go away - and back in the close quarters of Ankara, Anne and Gokhan are noticing his mental status again.  They brought him to the psychiatrist who said he's doing fine, and changed his medicines to a lighter dosage.  The new medicine had Baba walking around with ants-in-his-pants last night.  I got up at five for and ice pack for my neck and Baba was digging in the fridge.  He spoke to me with big eyes and bad breath about his new medicine making him dizzy and so forth.  (I can't take him seriously - he also claims to be instantly better from the flu after taking FILL-IN-THE-BLANK medicine.)

Once I complained to my father, "He's so childish!" to which my father answered in admiration,
"What a gift."