Stealth Fred

Having had an aging parent living with me for the last nine years I have made some observations. My Dad and I have reversed roles. I am told this is common. I'm not sure how this happened but it did. Fred is my Dad. He is 88 years old and has a whole slew of health issues. You name the disease and Fred has it. All this wrapped up means that Fred does not see well. He does not hear well. He is now dependent on others for help him do many of the things he used to be able to do himself. I understand the role reversal issue. It is not fun to wake up one day and realize that you can no longer do the things you used to do. Fred has decided to fight the whole aging thing. He is working his way around the whole issue. He is a man with a plan. He also has decided to take control of things that are out of his control. He has turned into Stealth Fred.

He used to deny everything when asked. Just outright denial. Nope. Didn't do it. Don't care if you found the item. Don't know how it got there. Now Stealth Fred is a Renaissance man. He is evolving. He has a new go to move. First he denies, and then he turns into the non-talking, staring, mouth open Stealth Fred. It is very difficult to have a conversation with a person who is staring blankly, not talking and purposefully opens their mouth. If he did this to his doctor he would probably end up in the hospital or a mental ward. When he does it to me, I laugh. I know this is not the response he was looking for but I can't help myself. He turns into Stealth Fred on a dime.

Stealth Fred has arrived and he likes to fix things. This is part of taking control back. The things don't need to be broken. They only need to not be working quite the way Fred wants them to work. He attempts to fix the item by banging the item against a large hard object. I have the item replaced. It seems simple and yet it is a surprise every time.

Fred was getting in my brother's truck to go out to dinner and his electric razor fell out of his pocket and landed on the concrete driveway. To me that would seem an odd item to have in your coat pocket inspiring questions. Lots and lots of questions. Instead Fred got in the truck, asked my brother to collect it and throw it away, as if having an electric razor fall out of your pocket was an everyday occurrence. My brother asked Fred why an electric razor had fallen out of his pocket. Fred told him it was broken and he was going to ask my brother to throw it away. My brother didn't ask him why he didn't just throw it out in the house before he got in the truck. He didn't explain that we have trash cans in the house. In fact Stealth Fred has one in his room. He didn't ask how it broke or any other questions that immediately spring to mind. He took the razor put it back in the truck and threw it away later. Really?

Clearly the razor was now broken and needed to be replaced. It was broken before it met the concrete. Fred had tried to fix the razor which is why he had the razor in his pocket. It wasn't actually broken but it wasn't working the way Fred wanted it. I suspect it needed to be cleaned out. I would have cleaned it out with the little brush. Over a sink. Fred banged it repeatedly against his bureau leaving large scrapes on the bureau and the razor broken. While he was banging it the stubble did actually come out of the razor. Unfortunately the stubble came out because Stealth Fred loosened the stubble by banging the razor and then rode over the stubble with his scooter hoping to grind it into the carpet. That was part of the plan of Stealthy Fred. Hide the evidence. It that doesn't work then stop talking, stare blankly and open your mouth. It's the new go to.

Eventually Fred told me that the razor had been running slower than normal because it needed to be cleaned out. It is supposed to be cleaned out with the little brush tool that you are given. According to Fred, the little brush doesn't get out all of the clippings, Banging however does. The razor met its demise. Apparently razors are not designed to be banged against large wooden chests. Who knew?

He figured that if he asked my brother to throw out the razor it would be a win win for him. My brother would throw out the razor and offer to take him to get a replacement and I would never know that he had tried to fix it. I wouldn't know about the clippings all over the floor in his room that were partially ground into the rug. Unfortunately Fred has vision issues so he doesn't see all that well, making it very difficult to see little tine specs of razor stubble on the floor. Fred the Stealthy strikes again.

His best laid plans went awry. I saw the clippings, I saw the new large gash in the bureau, the razor fell out of his pocket, and my brother never offered to get him a new one. I got him the new one and asked to please not clean it using the bureau but to follow the manufacturers instructions when cleaning it. I also told him that I would clean it if he wanted me to.

Part of Fred's new resistance to aging is he does not follow directions. He has a set of headphones that he wears to listen to the television. He has profound hearing loss so in order for him to hear the television he would have to turn it up so loud that you can hear it at the other end of house. I know because the headphones were born of need. He is supposed to adjust the level of sound on the headphones while leaving his hearing aids set to the level that was set by his audiologist. Nope. Not Stealth Fred. He knows better. He is always fiddling with the volume control. He turns them down by accident. Instead of turning them back up so he can hear he has determined that the headphones are not working. He has to fix them. The first thought that comes to mind is that in order to fix the headphones, he should bang them violently against his large bureau.

How do I know that he tried to fix them you might ask? I know this because I heard him. Fred does nothing quietly. Quietly is not in his vocabulary. Neither is stealth. I was watching television in the living room and heard a loud Fred noise. This is not a normal Fred noise so I go in his room and he is banging the headphones against his wooden bureau. Again and again. I asked him what he was doing. He explained his logic. “They aren't working so I thought I would jiggle the wires.”

I put the headphones on and adjust the volume. They are working fine, I hand them back to Fred with the comment “I don't believe that banging a device on a large wooden chest is the best way to fix it. Next time it stops working please just let me know.” I try to be mindful of his age. I am certain that I will be as stubborn as he when I am his age. I smiled. He agreed but I know better.

A few days later I heard the Fred fixing noise again. And again. I went in to see what Fred was fixing. He was in the bathroom so I waited for him to come out. He emerged holding his new razor in his hand. I told him that I heard a loud banging noise. He told me that his new razor was broken and he was fixing it. I have seen this movie before and it does not end well. He also told me that he didn't use the chest of drawers as I had asked. He used the sink. Naturally I had to ask if the razor was fixed. He explained that it was now working. He had gotten all of the shavings out and washed them down the drain and done it all without damaging the chest of drawers or spreading hair all over the floor. Of course the sink top now has a huge chip missing. Fred couldn't see it. The chest of drawers did not have any new gashes and the new razor was still working. I'm thinking two things. The first is crazy glue and the second is that I am sure the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. I am on my way to becoming Stealth Michelle. Watch out kids, you have been warned!