My suggestion dial 111, at least you will get a person to talk to who has access to a broad range of NHS services
First, well done for coping so far! I know what it's like to have a, er... strong minded mother, and dementia doesn't -- sadly! -- seem to strip them of that characteristic. It just seems to remove everything else which kept the determination and bossiness in check. Such is life... never resists a chance to kick you when you're down!
I try to remember that it's not her fault, savour the times when she's gentle and relaxed, and do all the compassionate communication stuff when she isn't. But it does often seem she's doing her very, very, very best to be as unhelpful as possible. I deal with that by backing off usually, but backing away from incontinence issues isn't practical or healthy for either of us.
I've been "lucky", somehow, in that I managed to get Mum used to me being generally useful in the bathroom. Don't ask me how, it was a gradual thing, but I knew from reading here in the early days that toilet issues are often what breaks a caring situation, so I took every small chance to help break down the normal barriers. It felt wrong or awkward at times, but caring isn't about normality, it's about necessity.
Getting Mum to start wearing disposable pants was a big breakthrough, which helped us get her constant UTIs under control (none for 9 months now, he said, tempting fate!) They handle routine urinary incontinence well. But although they can contain some poo (sometimes resulting in a nasty shock), they don't help her ability to try and sort herself out, requiring eagle eyes and an even eaglier nose for trouble. She is simply incapable of managing poo successfully and that just makes her even more distressed, so...
Well, I am probably ruining Mum's life and on a fast track to carer Hell, but once I realise we're heading for trouble (agitation tends to build, or she'll wander in and out of the loo while denying any need to go) I will make sure we get to the bathroom one way or another. I try to convince myself I'm channelling Hattie Jaques as matron rather than prison camp Gestapo, but I'm no angel and my mother's feistier than a bag of ferrets when she gets going, so it can be a challenge for both of us. But I work on the principle that as long as I constantly remind myself none of this is her fault I'm likely to stay on the right side of doing what's necessary to get her clean and comfortable again. She will be happier, just not right now.
Once we're in the bathroom the bath is ready to accept anything and everything that's contaminated, and as long as I can keep poo off Mum's hands (and therefore off me and everything else!) then I can usually manage. I always have instantly accessible rubber gloves, bin with liner (liner alone is no good if you're working one handed), big pile of wet wipes, scissors to cut off soiled pants if necessary, and disinfectant spray. And reserves of everything in case cleaning stuff gets contaminated!
Having dettol on hand can be useful because Mum still seems to associate the smell with cleanliness (it was the first thing out in hygiene emergencies, when we were growing up), but if I'm having to be firm with her there's nothing that helps except putting on that notional old fashioned matron's hat and getting on with it. I just stick to the script, make it clear there are no options other than getting cleaned up, get her sat on the loo as soon as possible (in case there's more to come but mainly to help her relax a little) and then it's down to establishing a clean zone on the floor and working outwards... starting with my shoes/slippers in case I'm making things worse!
Mmm... reading this back I find myself wanting to do what if done a dozen times in similar threads... delete the lot and stop outing myself as a manipulative control freak! But there probably aren't many carers who haven't felt the same, or struggled with the same issues, and if we don't share, we don't help. But if social services are battering down our door in half an hour, I'll know why!
Anyway, it seems I've hidden behind this laptop from my mother's grumpiness, for long enough for her to calm down and bring me a peace offering of a pencil. Usually it's a crumpled hanky or shredded artificial flower. But whatever it is, it's a good time to see if she could use a trip to the loo and then make a quick dash into town with her on the bus for dog food before the emotional winds change direction again.
Good luck. Hopefully the new meds will help your mother, and therefore yourself. It can be a lonely journey at times, but there's always someone here to listen, even if sometimes we struggle to find the right things to say.
Better hit 'Post Reply' before I delete this!
Oh, you mention your mother pinching you... boy, do I know all about that! Having abused the English language already I shall do so again. There is nothing eaglier than my mother's talons, bless her! I let her get some of her anger out that way, but bear the scars to prove that's not always much fun.
However neither's having dementia. She tolerated a bit of pain helping me into this world; the least I can do is tolerate some pain helping her at the other end of the journey.
Oh my dearest, I am so sorry about this. This poo business is so often the last straw isn't it. Why is it all so perverse? I am so sorry. Well done on getting through it. That was a hard time. I do hope this cold of yours clears up quickly. Kindred.Just reading these posts has helped me calm down and stop the tears of frustration.
I have a stinking cold and thought I’d convince oh to go for a nap then so could I. As we left living room a familiar smell hit me. I went into toilet but looked ok until I put lid down. Oh had emptied his bowels onto the lid then put it up. I swear he has the bowels of a horse. This is the second time in 3 days I’ve had the mess to clean up. The last one he transferred it from underpants to kitchen sink. He cleans his hands with hankies and the hides them. Today took me an hour as I had to remove toilet seat. Somehow the toilet was also blocked.
It took me 5 goes to get onto this site as I forgot password. More tears. I don’t cry often or turn to drink but today it hit me.
Not a pleasant post to read but it has calmed me down.
I had a similar problem with OH peeing onto the lid, so now I always keep the lid up.I went into toilet but looked ok until I put lid down. Oh had emptied his bowels onto the lid then put it up.
Social Services sorry abbreviations can be a nightmareSorry but what is the SS Ducky?