Well I guess then maybe you are better/kinder than me, maybe I don't 'care' as such but simply do what I know is right.
Caring I would think involves knowing the person, I don't know these people, they seem like either nice old people, but possibly before the dementia they were nasty (after all why don't they have any family visit?) and then there are the nasty ones that I always wonder if maybe had been nice before the dementia came?? I don't care for these people, I grow attached to them, I think I might see the real them, but basically I don't care for them, I am simply doing what is right, by looking out for them.
Most of them are fairly rude to me or my father ( they think he's a disgusting old man having an affair with this young girl, they hate how he yells and disturbs them, they talk very loudly about what they think of him/us, simply because they are half deaf and have dementia) some of them even try to hit him or push him over when he walks. I don't 'care for these people, I do what is right, I understand that their behaviour is due to the dementia, I forgive their actions, I smile when I think I see some of the real them, I am saddened that they don't get visitors, it upsets me to see them distressed, it shocks me when I find out that one of them has died. BUT, I don't care for these people, often I resent them, I don't like them for hurting my dad, I don't like them for being mean to him, I don't like them for being rude, despite the fact that I know that they are in the most part not at all responsible for their actions.
Obviously you Brucie are a saint, but I am under no false impressions, just like I am concerned for my mother always despite not liking the woman she is, I resent having to be so for people I don't know, don't necessarily know if I would like, don't necessarily like as the person they are today, people who take my time away from my father.
If there is one thing that residential staff should try to do I think is to not let people like me, who are almost beyond functioning sometimes trying to contend with their grief over their own parent, be further distressed by the problems of others. Fair enough, some might get a kind of joy from being involved with these other people, but all I can see is more horror, more suffering, more death, more pain, and it gets to a point that just the smell of the place makes me want to throw up.
Perhaps more people would visit their loved ones if they were protected from the heart wrenching experiences of having to try and console the unconsolable, i.e. the lady who just always wants me to take her home and then yells at me for not doing so, the other one who is continually searching for the way downstairs (there is no downstairs) to find her husband, the one who despite looking delightfully quaint calls me an f'n b and rams her walker into the gate, when i lock the gate behind me and don't let her out, the man who tells me that he is dead already, the other one who just yells 'Help me, help me, please somebody help me' all of the time...oh no thats right he died last week.
My god, u tell me that this is a wonderful thing to 'care' for all these people??
I can switch off, I want to switch off...every body else manages to, I know I am able to, but the one thing I can't do is NOT do the right thing.
I am not a good hearted carer, I simply have rock solid morals. And I think its about bloody time some other people got some too so they came and saw their loved ones, so I don't have to, so that the staff would stop whining about how hard their lot is over coffee and biscuits while I provide the emotional support and attention needed by the 15 people in Dad's section. Whilst I am 'caring' for others, it makes it harder to care for Dad, I RESENT that he gets less of my time, that I find it difficult to be as cheerful for him because of these others.
Ok now Brucie its your turn to tell me why in actual fact, its good for me to have to do all this??