Hi all.
This is my first post, prompted by the fact that everyone on here seems so helpful, and in the same boat as me.
This is a long story - so sorry to ramble, but I need to get it out, down in writing. My dad is 86, and I, his daughter, am his only child. I've been in a caring capacity, in one way or another, for twelve years. Firstly my mum had chronic lung disease, then developed what I think was Alzheimer's, and then died of lung cancer almost four years ago. dad was her main carer at home, while I supported them both with increasing frequency, until my mum died. At first dad, although obviously devastated, seemed to be coping okay. Then about three years ago, exacerbated by falling out of his shower and breaking three ribs, he became increasingly depressed, until he was talking about suicide. This was, I think, when his memory started going, probably the onset of the Alzheimer's he's recently been diagnosed with.
Anyway, he became increasingly depressed, talking about wanting to die, only not committing suicide, he said, because of the upset it would cause me and my kids (I was divorced ten years ago, and he loathed my ex), but that he definitely wanted to die and be with my mum. You can imagine how distressing this was for me - horrific, in fact, and my mental health started declining again (I'd already had a severe breakdown after my marriage broke up).
So, he had carers at home. They were always calling me up at work (I work full time as a lecturer), I was having to go home or go to the hospital with him on various visits to A&E on a regular basis. This was really difficult for me, not only because I'm an only child with sole responsibility but because I was having to leave work when I was supposed to be there, and I don't drive either! Dad was becoming increasingly depressed. In January this year I had a call from a local mental health institution for elderly people with mental health problems saying that he had been admitted there because of these continuing suicidal tendencies. To say this was a shock is an understatement. However, the place did seem to do him good, and he was reluctantly beginning to agree that he couldn't manage at home with carers any more and he was going to try residential care.
The last good memory I have of dad was on a Sunday in late February when my son and I took him up Dunstable Downs for a walk - he was walking well, which he hadn't done for months, and he was really, really happy. Two days later another resident of the institute pushed him over during an altercation with another resident, and my dad broke his hip. I am currently in complaint mode with the NHS trust about this, because on that day, I believe, I effectively lost my dad for good.
My dad had an operation to repair the damage and initially seemed to be doing ok. Then he got post-op delirium, shouting at nurses (he's a lovely man and never shouts at anyone normally), shouting at me, etc etc. Things just went crazy. My health began to decline too, the stress, the worry, the anger at what happened almost too much.
After that, he was moved into a dementia unit in a CH, which was really nice, with good staff, but dad couldn't settle, becoming more and more confused, constantly falling, in and out of hospital (the only place he seems to trust), before he was admitted to hospital and told he couldn't go back to the CH because he now needed nursing care, which that CH couldn't deliver. I was under huge pressure to find him a place, and found one that seemed okay pretty quickly. He was there one day before they announced that they couldn't cope with him there (they didn't realise he was so confused etc etc) and was put back in hospital again. I looked somewhere else, a nicer place, actually, and they assessed him and agreed to take him.
Then on Tuesday night, I had a call from hospital saying that dad had collapsed. On Wednesday they told me he was dying, that he had shut down. My kids and I sat with him on a constant basis, utterly exhausted, but I found a kind of peace in that he was finally going to be free of this horrible life (his words about his condition before this happened - 'this is a bloody awful way to die'). We all said goodbye (twice), and looked forward to him being at peace. On Friday morning there was no change, and we were told that he seemed to be improving.
I'm afraid I freaked out. The thought of having to carry on with all this, of going through all of this again, has brought me to my knees - and if this sounds selfish, it's because all I want for him, and me, is peace. I don't know how to cope with this any more. I don't know if if I can do this any more, and keep my job, which is extremely stressful but which despite it, I love, and need to be able to live. And the thought of him going into another CH and him being miserable breaks my heart more than the thought of his death. Not to mention sorting out all the legal stuff - probably CoP now that he probably doesn't have capacity any more.
I hope you won't think badly of me. I am at the end of my tether with this, and I just needed to get it off my chest. I've been to my GP, but as per usual, he wasn't much help.
Many thanks for listening.
This is my first post, prompted by the fact that everyone on here seems so helpful, and in the same boat as me.
This is a long story - so sorry to ramble, but I need to get it out, down in writing. My dad is 86, and I, his daughter, am his only child. I've been in a caring capacity, in one way or another, for twelve years. Firstly my mum had chronic lung disease, then developed what I think was Alzheimer's, and then died of lung cancer almost four years ago. dad was her main carer at home, while I supported them both with increasing frequency, until my mum died. At first dad, although obviously devastated, seemed to be coping okay. Then about three years ago, exacerbated by falling out of his shower and breaking three ribs, he became increasingly depressed, until he was talking about suicide. This was, I think, when his memory started going, probably the onset of the Alzheimer's he's recently been diagnosed with.
Anyway, he became increasingly depressed, talking about wanting to die, only not committing suicide, he said, because of the upset it would cause me and my kids (I was divorced ten years ago, and he loathed my ex), but that he definitely wanted to die and be with my mum. You can imagine how distressing this was for me - horrific, in fact, and my mental health started declining again (I'd already had a severe breakdown after my marriage broke up).
So, he had carers at home. They were always calling me up at work (I work full time as a lecturer), I was having to go home or go to the hospital with him on various visits to A&E on a regular basis. This was really difficult for me, not only because I'm an only child with sole responsibility but because I was having to leave work when I was supposed to be there, and I don't drive either! Dad was becoming increasingly depressed. In January this year I had a call from a local mental health institution for elderly people with mental health problems saying that he had been admitted there because of these continuing suicidal tendencies. To say this was a shock is an understatement. However, the place did seem to do him good, and he was reluctantly beginning to agree that he couldn't manage at home with carers any more and he was going to try residential care.
The last good memory I have of dad was on a Sunday in late February when my son and I took him up Dunstable Downs for a walk - he was walking well, which he hadn't done for months, and he was really, really happy. Two days later another resident of the institute pushed him over during an altercation with another resident, and my dad broke his hip. I am currently in complaint mode with the NHS trust about this, because on that day, I believe, I effectively lost my dad for good.
My dad had an operation to repair the damage and initially seemed to be doing ok. Then he got post-op delirium, shouting at nurses (he's a lovely man and never shouts at anyone normally), shouting at me, etc etc. Things just went crazy. My health began to decline too, the stress, the worry, the anger at what happened almost too much.
After that, he was moved into a dementia unit in a CH, which was really nice, with good staff, but dad couldn't settle, becoming more and more confused, constantly falling, in and out of hospital (the only place he seems to trust), before he was admitted to hospital and told he couldn't go back to the CH because he now needed nursing care, which that CH couldn't deliver. I was under huge pressure to find him a place, and found one that seemed okay pretty quickly. He was there one day before they announced that they couldn't cope with him there (they didn't realise he was so confused etc etc) and was put back in hospital again. I looked somewhere else, a nicer place, actually, and they assessed him and agreed to take him.
Then on Tuesday night, I had a call from hospital saying that dad had collapsed. On Wednesday they told me he was dying, that he had shut down. My kids and I sat with him on a constant basis, utterly exhausted, but I found a kind of peace in that he was finally going to be free of this horrible life (his words about his condition before this happened - 'this is a bloody awful way to die'). We all said goodbye (twice), and looked forward to him being at peace. On Friday morning there was no change, and we were told that he seemed to be improving.
I'm afraid I freaked out. The thought of having to carry on with all this, of going through all of this again, has brought me to my knees - and if this sounds selfish, it's because all I want for him, and me, is peace. I don't know how to cope with this any more. I don't know if if I can do this any more, and keep my job, which is extremely stressful but which despite it, I love, and need to be able to live. And the thought of him going into another CH and him being miserable breaks my heart more than the thought of his death. Not to mention sorting out all the legal stuff - probably CoP now that he probably doesn't have capacity any more.
I hope you won't think badly of me. I am at the end of my tether with this, and I just needed to get it off my chest. I've been to my GP, but as per usual, he wasn't much help.
Many thanks for listening.