The short answer is no toddlers have been given booze or acid. Please don’t call the police.

Hi, I’m Jen. In February 2016 my father was diagnosed with Stage IV Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer. Eighteen months after, just as my Dad was nearing the end, my mother was diagnosed with Stage II Breast Cancer. I was 38 at the time and I’m an only child.

As my Dad’s condition worsened and my Mom’s reaction to chemo kicked her ass, I experience a level of life’s crazy I didn’t think possible. Friends would ask how things were and my only response was, “It’s like taking care of drunk toddlers on acid.” They could barely walk and when they did it was like they were drunk. If they talked it sounded like they’d eaten LSD.

I’m going to share my story on here and hopefully provide some guidance and practical advice and suggestions for helping others deal with their aging parents. While there are about one million books on this topic, none I perused prepared me for two parents in diapers or the signs of terminal agitation; certainly not one mentioned I could potentially have to take my father to a hospice facility in the middle of the night, drunk and in a party dress, with a transgender emergency technician leading the way. That shit is real and we should all be prepared for it.

So read on, leave a comment if you like, ask questions.