When a loved one is diagnosed with dementia, lots of cogs start turning, with family, friends, consultants, social services, care agencies and others.
There is one cog that is likely to grind to a halt. That is the primary carer of someone with dementia.
Somehow, this person is largely overlooked by family and friends - 'oh. she is coping, it's just a bit of bad memory, they will be OK' 'She is still smiling, she is alright with him' etc etc
The cog grinds to an unhappy halt, and many people realise that not only has the cog halted, but, on inspection, is completely worn out.
Care Home - that's the answer!
We can leave the worn out cog, it will be OK, we will sort a care home out.
But what about the cog?
Did it work too hard, or not hard enough. Could it have kept going a little longer, or should it have broken down long ago?
How to come to terms now with a Care Home, and what advice?
I had an Aunty Betty, she was lovely, and much loved. She ended up in a Care Home in the late stages of dementia. It was many miles, and across the water from me - but I went to see her. There was a new manager in the Care Home who insisted that all the residents had their names on their room doors......
My Aunty's room said that she was called 'Elizabeth.' I was furious!
I understand that hearing is just about the last sense to leave us when death is approaching...I reasoned that if Aunty Betty had any remnants of the lady I knew, and could hear, and could make a little sense of what she heard - she would be very lonely. Because if they were calling her 'Elizabeth' ( and they were) she would not recognise herself.
I asked them to call her 'Betty' and put 'Betty' on the name on the door. That made me feel a little better in respect of if Aunty Betty was 'still there' in any form, at least she would not now be alone, she would know they were talking to her.
I am now a cog in another piece of machinery as daily my loved OH becomes more distant - I hope when the time comes, (if) I will be able to give the Care Home that little bit of information that might tell my OH that he is still loved and not forgotten.
The Devil is in the detail.