On December 15th dad passed away in hospice care.
I had what amounted to a nervous breakdown one morning trying to move him in his bed after he had fractured his leg, when he shouted out “don’t hurt me!” I just totally lost it. Hospice took him to give me respite care. I knew when I called them that I couldn’t give him the care he needed and deserved as a bedridden patient. I think about the last four years and all the weird behavior and the wandering were easy issues to deal with compared to the end care when he was bedridden. If you have physical limitations and are considering caring for an elderly parent keep this in mind, even with hospice help there was not enough help to really let me keep him at home and give him proper care.
I've read many stories here on AgingCare where people who didn't have any extra friends, family or the ability to hire care took care of a loved one at home until the end, I can't think of any that didn't cause deep trauma and long lasting negative effects. Sometimes stepping back is the only good choice.
I am sorry about your nervous breakdown and your Dad's passing both. May you find Peace and Grace.
Now it is time to take care of you. Be kind and gentle with yourself, be forgiving and understanding. Find ways to make your life feel enriched.
Hugs!
I hope you find comfort that you did your level best caring for your father. May sweet memories of him bring your peace.
Be gentle with yourself. {hug}
All of us here are working so hard each day on behalf of loved ones that it's easy to lose sight of the bigger picture that this is a one-way trip with a predetermined outcome that ultimately results in our own heartache. It's ironic how, after such self-sacrifice, our own second thoughts surface to add to our pain, even in the face of inevitability.
My dad went on Hospice this month and there seems to be an observable decline each week. As time grows shorter, I find it tempting to reflect back over the years of care and be critical of myself for not getting something done when I said I would, or at all because other things took priority. Instead of making a mental summary of all the things I've been able to do, my mind wanders to the things I couldn't do, as if they might have been the things that really mattered. In my rational mind I know that's not the case, but in my emotional state, I see things through a filter of distortion.
I hope you'll find a way to remember how much you were able to do for your dad and let it be enough. Letting things be enough isn't as easy as it ought to be, but it's probably the most healing work we can do for ourselves after the caregiving experience. Blessings,
I know I will see him again!
May God comfort you through this painful and hard time. God bless you!