thats good to hear that Bridget is eating again with such gusto. it might have just been that she wasnt feeling good and went off her food like we do. good they are checking her
Peter, I know. It is a wonder we don’t explode. We kind of plod on in the hope something good or even a quantum of good might happen …with you all the way. KindredxHi everyone.
I’ve moved from in bed, to making myself a cup of tea, to back in bed. I’ll get up and have some breakfast soon. Believe me even all that is a struggle sometimes.
I know that when I post on here others often never really know what to say. Sometimes there are no words of comfort to be said. I’m the same.
My greatest fear at the moment, and what churns my stomach over and over, is the knowledge that Bridget is deteriorating more so than before. I’ve pretended to myself that she’d just go on and we’ve got time together into the future. It’s one way I cope with the situation. Her deterioration after her fall has shocked me into having to face her decline.
And, of course, everyone is kind and never talks about the obvious, the thing that’s staring me in the face, because why would they? No one wants to upset me and no one wants to be upset.
I just don’t know how I’m supposed to journey through all these emotions. In many respects once Bridget dies ( did I actually face that in words?) things might be easier - no more worries and scary anticipation. But then I would have a whole new load of grief to handle. Does it never end? It surprises me that we don’t explode with the torment of it all!
Peterx
Would you worry if it was male doctors, or males nurses? Perhaps more importantly, would Bridget worry about it? My Mum never has had a problem with being examined by males ( that doesn't really sound right, but you know what I mean) and has no issues with male carers when we've had them.Am i feeling uneasy over nothing? I mentioned earlier that i felt uncomfortable that two male carers were given the job of giving my wife a shower. I think its only natural that i find this upsetting as Bridget is, after all, still my wife and I'm used to our bodies being just mine and hers. What i should have done i suppose is offer to help so i could have been in the shower room with her. But circumstances sort of took over and i felt redundant.
Are these the things that i'm expected to accept now Bridget's in care? . Is all natural dignity gone? It such a difficult and awkward situation and how do I mention it to the home without them feeling that I’m suspicious of something?
I would prefer female carers but I know staffing levels don’t allow for this flexibility.
I so understand. Keith and I made a suicide pact but it very quickly became evident that he would not have the capacity. I find some comfort in that I was able to take care of him with love right up to his death. KxI’m crying but who and what do I cry for now?
I’m crying for me because I feel sorry for myself because the grief hurts and hurts and twists my guts all the time. I cry because I miss her so much and because I’m lonely for her.
I cry for Bridget because she has dementia and how dementia has reduced her and attacked her life and personality. And how she has to suffer and she can’t understand how dementia is using her up. Perhaps she doesn’t know, is oblivious to her dementia world, who knows? Not even the doctor can tell me.
So I cry at the unfairness of it, that all our hopes of just getting old together, just doing mundane things together are gone. Perhaps dying together in a car crash isn’t so bad after all. I can fully understand why lovers feel they will take their lives together rather than being left alone.
Peterx
What you're feeling is what we all feel, @Dutchman. Everything that you have said rings true with me and, obviously, with others here because we're all been on the same journey. What differs, I suppose, is how we cope and in that I suspect we're all different. I've taken the view that Margaret has gone - gone into "that silent land" that Christina Rossetti speaks of so eloquently and I cannot follow her but I can remember. So I have taken a deliberate decision to detach myself as far as I can from Margaret's present physical state and do all I can to keep the memory of the"real" Margaret alive. My children are both understanding and they are happy to keep the torch of visiting and dealing with the nursing home alight so that I don't feel I have to be on hand day and night as I was when Margaret was at home.I’m crying but who and what do I cry for now?
I’m crying for me because I feel sorry for myself because the grief hurts and hurts and twists my guts all the time. I cry because I miss her so much and because I’m lonely for her.
I cry for Bridget because she has dementia and how dementia has reduced her and attacked her life and personality. And how she has to suffer and she can’t understand how dementia is using her up. Perhaps she doesn’t know, is oblivious to her dementia world, who knows? Not even the doctor can tell me.
So I cry at the unfairness of it, that all our hopes of just getting old together, just doing mundane things together are gone. Perhaps dying together in a car crash isn’t so bad after all. I can fully understand why lovers feel they will take their lives together rather than being left alone.
Peterx