I agree with Tina. In Dad's home there was just one room in his section to sit in, that room was both the meals room and the lounge room with a TV and a radio. Otherwise there was one long corridor along which all the bedrooms lay. Worse yet, Dad did not have his own bedroom but shared it with another man, so we couldn't even sit there in privacy, nor could his sharemate have any privacy if we were sitting in there. In Dad's home in otherwords, there was no place where he could have his own space, there was no variety, there was no escaping other inmates. If you wanted to watch TV you had to hope that you weren't upsetting the other residents, or you would have to watch the channel it was already on...if the radio was on, you had to listen to it. I tried to make Dad's tiny little allocation of room his space by giving him his own coloured bedspread, but the staff told me it was too much trouble to wash and put on...for a while there I had a little war going on, where I would go in and put the bedspread on and the next day I would arrive and it had been removed again. The only thing he had that was his alone was a pinboard where we stuck up photos for him.
As for supervision, I could spend an hour in the one big room with Dad at nights and no staff would be visible as they were too busy putting people to bed to supervise, so I would find myself being the supervisor and coming to the aid of people who would slide out of their chairs or fall over, hoping to God that Mr Macdonald wouldn't strip off again or ask me to help him to the toilet, apologising to the lady who was crying telling me she just wanted to go to bed.
I know I know Dad's home was apparently not the norm...but as I've said before it was the best his area could offer, so I'm guessing that there are many others living in similar places.
The only escape Dad had was my visits for then I could take him for walks throughout the rest of the home (he was in a locked section) we could sit and have coffee or tea in quiet rooms in other sections he didn't usualy have access to and I think if I was him that would have been a godsend for me, to get away from it all, to have a little space.
Nonetheless until the final year when caring got so lax, I too could say I was 'happy' with Dad's home...happy because it was the best there was available for his condition but there was no choice however, not happy because I thought it provided all that a human being should have access to.
People in homes should be able to have their own private space, they should be able to go sit in a variety of rooms, so that they can avoid people that they don't like if they want to, so that they can sit in rooms with people they do like or who watch the same tv shows or listen to the same kinds of music, or so that they can actually find a room that is empty of people. Dad was a 60yr old, either stuck in a room with other people all with their own crazy habits or otherwise being forced to lie in his bed and stare at the ceiling (for there was no space for him to sit in there) or pace the corridors. If the lady wanted to slap him she could, if the man wanted to come dribble on him he could, if another lady wanted to yell at him she could and they all had to suffer my Dad yelling at the world. It was enough to drive anyone crazy...and I sometimes wondered if you weren't crazy when you went in, whether you'd end up crazy anyway!
Now as you can imagine when I post something like this, I am opening my heart, re-invoking a whole lot of pain, a lot of sadness, a lot of unhappy thoughts about my inability to make things better for people who don't have a voice of their own. So I can be told that ideas like Tina's or mine are not sensible in someone else's opinion, I know that there is nothing but goodwill in such a suggestion and rationally I can accept that my opinion may be wrong or just differnt. But on this topic I am highly emotional (and no doubt it is highly emotional for others too) and I can't explain it Hazel, I am very sorry because I am certain it is not your intent, but your insistence that everything is okay just as it is, just doubles my pain. It makes me want to scream with anger, sadness and frustration. I am trying to heal by venting and I feel like you are putting a lid on my chimney. Can you understand that?
That you are happy with the care your husband is receiving and that others are receiving isn't all that matters, there are a lot of other people not receiving that good care. And I thank anyone who acknowledges that.