Yes it's the long version.......It was a wonderful, fantastic plan I couldn't have been more pleased with myself. Had a big pow wow with my brothers and so the wheels where set in motion. Mum would come and live with me and we'd live happily ever after (picture gingham clad ladies skipping through fields of golden corn, pretending I don't have hey fever) Mum had been living on her own ( since my ratbag father died) two hours away from me ( daughter) and was very slowly going down hill, without the help of her fantastic neighbour I would have been lost. I would phone but Ma would complain about the phone (not having her hearing aids in didn't help!) she had also started eating less and loosing weight, my brothers sent groceries to her, as we thought she was living hand to mouth and it was a cost cutting excercise, would visit when we could/felt good enough, I say this as I had to gird my loins for a visit, for several reasons which I may go into now or in my next episode Anyway, when she started falling and had a 'funny turn' we decided to move our plans forward pronto. We All moved house into a place big enough for the three of us in dec 12 in February 13 Ma was diagnosed with vascular dementia and things have gently rolled down the pooey side of the slope since. And here I sit two years and three months down the line, wondering where I can get a gun in order to shoot myself. How did it come to this? Last tue dropped her off for a weeks respite at 1 at 6.30, she was in the local hospital, as she has 'somehow' fallen out of her wheelchair, it actually looked like someone had driven over her head. Next day it didn't look quite so bad but the hospital made it quite clear they wanted her OUT, (oh sorry I have neglected to tell you that I am actually teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown.) said I was very sorry and she couldn't come home, so SS crisis team arrived, luckily found a fab place that said they would take Ma and we agreed on a two week trial with a view to it going long term. Yesterday I went and was told she'd had the worst diarrhoea they've ever seen, and this morning when I phoned was told 'we need to have a little chat' as she has been lashing out.....and I may have to find somewhere else. I'm sorry but I'm just about ready to break. I don't know who's doing what I.e. SS, council and Uncle Tom Cobbly and all, I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing for the best, and frankly I'd just like to have a day when I didn't cry. Any tips, hints or pointers are most appreciated.