I've posted on here a few times especially the past 2 years.
My husband (73) was finally diagnosed with PCA in 2018 . He had to stop work in 2013, I (now 68) carried on for a while, then part time then stopped entirely in 2016 as he wasn't very safe at home,leaving the front door open, turning hobs on in the kitchen and was on a sudden but intense reckless gambling spree...
So we managed, he had a brief period of psychosis, he developed total aphasia and has no language. We got out and about every day twice in the car and to the park then last October he stopped being able to get in the car. November he fell a couple of times badly, backwards on the stairs, and became confined to upstairs. He became doubly incontinent quite suddenly.
Upstairs was not sustainable as the shower room is downstairs and he could not get into the bath upstairs so personal care/washing became very fraught and he became violent, at the very least using horrible force to twist my wrists.
We - it was for me really - had a blissful month of respite late January then Adult Social Care sought a permanent placement for him with no uptake - a couple of care homes with poor QCC reports, until another care home where he actually went for 4 days until my son visited him and found him with numerous deep scratches, scabbing wounds on his arms, wearing a ripped T shirt so brought him home the next day.
There followed a very frightening incident when he grabbed and squeezed my throat...after which we had a 3x daily male carer to support. Until a place in a nursing home was found for him where he has been for 4 weeks.
it's nice, it's organised, most staff seem really lovely, I or my sons visit him on alternate days and mostly get a good impression of feeling.
So why do I now feel I am having a breakdown? I used to manage to squeeze in a quick shower or hair wash even if it was in the middle of the night. I barely slept more than a couple of hours at a time for several years but now when I can, I can't sleep. I was desperate to get a grip on our home which in certain areas has been systematically trashed (door handles broken, cupboards kicked in, curtain rails ripped off, wash basin broken off the wall...) But I actually find I'm just sitting feeling anxious most of the time waiting for the phone to ring from the nursing home. I've cleared some cupboards out, chucked stuff away, been to the council dump twice, sorted out some paperwork then got overwhelmed by financial stuff.
I think I'm getting worse not better.
My husband (73) was finally diagnosed with PCA in 2018 . He had to stop work in 2013, I (now 68) carried on for a while, then part time then stopped entirely in 2016 as he wasn't very safe at home,leaving the front door open, turning hobs on in the kitchen and was on a sudden but intense reckless gambling spree...
So we managed, he had a brief period of psychosis, he developed total aphasia and has no language. We got out and about every day twice in the car and to the park then last October he stopped being able to get in the car. November he fell a couple of times badly, backwards on the stairs, and became confined to upstairs. He became doubly incontinent quite suddenly.
Upstairs was not sustainable as the shower room is downstairs and he could not get into the bath upstairs so personal care/washing became very fraught and he became violent, at the very least using horrible force to twist my wrists.
We - it was for me really - had a blissful month of respite late January then Adult Social Care sought a permanent placement for him with no uptake - a couple of care homes with poor QCC reports, until another care home where he actually went for 4 days until my son visited him and found him with numerous deep scratches, scabbing wounds on his arms, wearing a ripped T shirt so brought him home the next day.
There followed a very frightening incident when he grabbed and squeezed my throat...after which we had a 3x daily male carer to support. Until a place in a nursing home was found for him where he has been for 4 weeks.
it's nice, it's organised, most staff seem really lovely, I or my sons visit him on alternate days and mostly get a good impression of feeling.
So why do I now feel I am having a breakdown? I used to manage to squeeze in a quick shower or hair wash even if it was in the middle of the night. I barely slept more than a couple of hours at a time for several years but now when I can, I can't sleep. I was desperate to get a grip on our home which in certain areas has been systematically trashed (door handles broken, cupboards kicked in, curtain rails ripped off, wash basin broken off the wall...) But I actually find I'm just sitting feeling anxious most of the time waiting for the phone to ring from the nursing home. I've cleared some cupboards out, chucked stuff away, been to the council dump twice, sorted out some paperwork then got overwhelmed by financial stuff.
I think I'm getting worse not better.
