Big questions require an occasional big answer. But if I were you I'd ignore this and skip to the summation at the end.
I think most people know instinctively from day one of the relative's diagnosis what they're going to do. They then spend the next few months or years justifying the decision to themselves.
I knew I'd end up doing my best to keep Mum out of a care home for as long as possible as soon as I knew there was something wrong. Not just because someone so bolshy would probably disrupt any home and end up drugged to placate her, and not just because I'd no family, relationship or pension of my own to wreck. I'll be equally badly off when all this is over as I was before... better in fact, because I'll have a few years less in dead-end employment before I can collect the state pension (which is currently more than enough to keep someone as boring as me!) I was also lucky enough to own my own little flat, so when all this is over I know I have somewhere to retreat to when this bungalow disappears in care costs or is split among the family, Dog's Trust and Salvation Army.
Mum also had a diagnosis of 10-15 years of decline, and her home would only have kept her for maybe 4 of those years, so after that she'll be at the mercy of whatever social care is capable of delivering. It's bad enough now and we're long overdue for a recession, so my faith in taxpayers being able to support existing social care standards are minimal. Especially as demands rockets. Maybe another few years will see dementia diagnoses start to fall (I read something about it having potentially peaked as lifestyles improve) and the situation will improve? But if it does, you can bet that funding will shrink too.
Many would say I think and worry too much, and have heard too many horror stories about underpaid, overstretched care home staff. But I've never been very good at delegating or considering issues to be 'someone else's problem'. I certainly don't buy into the idea that social services are responsible for us all, ultimately, whether that's legally true or not. To me it's a safety net for the most vulnerable, or for those with families that have no way of coping without expensive support... which is a lot of folk these day, because our version of society had drifted (run?) away from being family-focused.
Our family is no different. I'm the only one in any position to help, and the only one who'd have considered it for a moment. But that's the advantage of having several children... increases the chance that one of them will be daft enough to 'sacrifice' their status quo to improve yours, when necessary.
What am I saying? It might sound like I'm trying to guilt trip folk at a vulnerable time, but I'm not. But I do think we dress this issue up in all sorts of ways which suits us. I'm probably doing it now... typing this to try and justify my choice to myself. But caring is not a life sentence. It will end one day, and although there are times when I worry I'm making my mother's life worse than it might be in a great care home, I know I'm making it a lot better than it might be in a struggling home. Nobody can know for sure, though obviously if I blew Mum's bungalow in two years on the best possible care home then she'd probably be wonderfully off right up to the point social services came chasing me for burning her assets too quickly.
Whatever we do in life, we never know if we made the best choice. We can only go with our instincts and professional advice, where appropriate. But ultimately I return to what I said earlier... I think we all know in our heart of hearts what we're going to do very early in the process. There's no shame either way; the only shame is in not doing what you feel's right... it's yourself you have to live with for the rest of your life.
Let's see if I can end this exercise in pointless (and probably unhelpful!) navel gazing with a summation of pros and cons as I've experienced it. Maybe this is all a bit
me, me, me, but I only have extensive experience of one situation to pass on, so...
Cons:
Gained weight.
Gained scars from Mum's occasional fear and paranoia..
Pitying looks from strangers.
Having to be a healthcare professional whether I like it or not.
Lost sleep.
Lost earnings.
Lost job stability.
Lost opportunities.
Lost lifespan, probably, given the stress.
Constant worry about mishandling situations or making bad decisions.
Wondering if you're guilty of trying to preserve the past person rather than help the new one.
Worse memory due to tiredness, meaning I can't remember more
cons.
Pros:
The day I gave up work completely was SUCH a wonderful relief after two years of commuting 180 miles weekly, and occasionally daily, to keep plates spinning remotely. Having one role is far, far easier than two, especially when one of those roles is caring.
Stress means I may not live long enough to get dementia or see the Amazon gone!
Understanding looks from those who've been there.
I've finally learned to play the guitar "properly".
I don't have to worry about what Mum might be getting up to in a care home.
I've had infinitely more hugs from my mother in four years than in the previous forty... even if she doesn't often know who she's hugging. Ok, infinitely more thumps too, but that's the dementia, not Mum... probably. ;-)
There's never been a better time to be a carer... the internet for support, stimulation and shopping; streaming TV to suit unscheduled lifestyles; backup from social services, the Alz Soc, Age UK and assorted local groups.
I went from a tiny, worthless cog in a big corporation to a hugely influential cog in a very tiny organisation; scary but rewarding.
I've met a lot of wonderful people in similar circumstances, and I've even managed to cheer some of them up occasionally with my silly songs. This has helped adjust my view on society as a whole and influenced my political and philosophical stances. My life has grown intellectually as well as shrunk physically.
I've become custodian of my mother's garden and have learned to enjoy growing things... it's the ultimate counterpoint to watching Mum's personality and body shrivel away before me.
I haven't had to re-home Mum's dog (couldn't have had her in my flat) and she's become my best friend... when she's not getting under my feet, being cursed for dog poo incidents, or spending half an hour sniffing at one pee-soaked plant on our 'quick'' walks.
Summation:
Do what you feel is right for you and your father. Nobody else can tell you what's in your heart, and nobody can tell you what might happen if you make a different choice. I'd never have been able to do what I've done if I had a family of my own, or if Mum hadn't had a small, but detached bungalow (if we'd shared walls in the earlier years our neighbours would have been sick and tired of phoning the Police!)
I wish you and your father the very best of luck. I also wish I had the patience to proof-read all this and delete it if it's tripe. Hitting 'Post Reply' may just be the latest of my long list of dubious decisions.