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So here we are, living in his house ( fil's), and I am stuck taking care of him full time. I say "stuck", not to be insensistive, but beacuse that is the way it is. Due to the fil's dysfunctional issues, he has little contact with his daughters or grandchildren. He refuses to pay for any type of respite care or an aid to help him bathe ( he has not been in a bath or shower in five years), so he wears the same, smelly, urine/chewing tobacco stained clothes for days. It is a literal battle to even get him to take a bird bath and change.My husband and I cannot afford to pay for help.
Currently, he is on home iv antibiotic therapy and a nurse did say something to us about his dirty clothes and all the dead skin on his arms. I was so embarrassed. I think in my case, I am dealing with an alcoholic ( he drinks 5-6 whiskey drinks a night) and he is terrified that he will not have his drinks everyday.
I remember when my own grandmother was unable to live by herself. It was HER choice to live in an assisted living facility, because in her words she did not want to be a "burden" to her children. She was involved in different types of activities, church and shopping, She, for the most part, enjoyed her time there.
I find it interesting, that when we choose to be care takers, we are also taking on other issues/problems that may have gone unsolved for years. When one is truly dysfunctional,as well as the entire family, it is truly difficult. More and more, I see the same problems surface in my husband that his father has........denial, being the big one, being really stubborn, the other.
So, for me, the hardest part is the mental burn out, from frustration. When he gets to the point of needing diapers changed, fed and such,I'll be sure to call my husband. I have discussed this ( or at least tried to) about the very near future and have made it very evident that I cannot do that.
Don't mean to ramble on, but it would probably be different if I loved my fil, buyt I do not. I care for him and respect him. That's all I can do at this point.
Anyhow, maybe I'm lucky, but in my situation, it is pretty clear cut when the nursing home/assisted care will happen. When I can no longer care for my Mom because, for instance, she has broken a bone, or gone fully into dementia where she runs the streets, it will be obvious that I clearly can't handle the situation. I don't intend to "die trying". My Mother would not want that either. My Mom would say something like, "I'm old, had a good life, and I don't want you killing yourself to keep this old lady alive. It's time for what I don't want--a place that is not my own home, but it is what is now the thing to do."
Aunt Ethel worked as an aide in the small town care facility. When she was widowed in her sixties she used some of the insurance money to go back to school and become an LPN. She knew the difference in salary would never pay back the schooling, but she also knew that the facility truly needed someone with that degree. She worked there for many years before she retired. Later she walked in one day and said, "I think it is time for me to register here as a resident," and she lived out her last decade there, dying at age 100. Not every small town nursing home has a dedicated Aunt Ethel, but don't discount the possibility of finding very fine care even in small town low-tech nonprofit facilities.
Once the long term care landscape was bleak. There are still nightmares out there, no doubt about it. But do not despair at finding compassionate care -- it is out there, too. Even the care we give at home is not perfect. Fortunately perfection is not required.
I had written earlier about my own experience- I moved to So. Fl. to help Mom out with my Dad's care. We were also, damned if you do, damned if you don't. - We let him stay in one of the "better places" . Everyone hid when all the care was done, and seemed annoyed that my dad's underpads had to be changed again. If we were not there, his needs would have not been taken care of. We always said, "OMG- so many people HAVE to put their loved ones here." - Its a tough choice.
What we did (homecare) may not be an option for some. We just thought we could give better care at home. Yes, it was hard. YES, we almost lost our minds. NO, I am not a Martyr. He was my father. He helped me when I needed it. That was my driving force. That's what kept me going.
I hope you all find what works best for you. I am no expert.
I wish I had the right answer for each of you. ((((HUGS)))
Nursing homes are never going to be as good for the elder as being cared for at home by loving family members. Still, what is the benefit if you must give away your life to care for theirs. Sometimes, there comes a time when you also have to give consideration to your personal health and the well being of your family.
I've been caring from my parents from age 55 to 63. I went to my dad's doc today for a consultation about his care. My blood pressure was 190/100. That's not good for me and I am pretty tired. My mom has passed, but my dad needs 24/7 care and lives with us. He's 89. Is it right for me to die so that he can stay with us? After I'm disabled or dead, then what? I know that it is perfectly reasonable for me to what to have a life of my own, but it breaks my heart to give him up to NH care. The logical answer is that I should be able to say that I have a right to my life. The emotional answer is that I should be able to handle all things for all people. Unfortunately, I know that I can't do that without a great personal cost.
I do have a caregiver that comes in 3 times a week for 3 hours. That is huge and more than many have. Still, it does not provide me with a life. That's the reality. My heart goes out to all who are struggling with this issue. You have to be kind to yourselves also.
When we martyr ourselves, we place ourselves at risk of dying or going to the nursing home ourselves before they do.
My point?
Not everyone can do it. And, if you can't you shouldn't feel guilty. My mother, age 74 is a retired nurse. I am a medical assistant. There were days I didn't know my own name, even though mom and I slept in shifts. The first week home of getting him settled was hell and we wondered if we could do it.
As you get into a routine- if you can call it that- depending on the level of care...it helps and it gets better. The saving grace is that he didn't know how sick he was and was just happy to be home and have us around him. If he knew how sick he was, it would have been harder.
After 3 weeks, I still miss him, his smile and taking care of him. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, but the most rewarding. I hope my post made sense.
Do what is right for you, and the person you are caring for. That's all I can say.