My husband and I have decided that my father-in-law will spend his final days in the hospice care facility. The hospice workers feel that time will be soon. Everyone thinks it's best to just tell him he is going for symptom management, as he is in denial about his disease.
I have spent the last two and half years, taking care of my fil, full time.
I have decided that I will not spend all of my time at the care facility, when he is admitted.
I might add that the years have been very hard, as my fil is a VERY difficult man.
I do not know what my husband is going to do, but I just do not want to go there, other than some visits.
Am I wrong to feel this way?
mean old man. :/
Currently, my father-in-law is stable and he is now at the care facility for respite.
This is the second time he has gone in the past year he has been receiving hospice care. And each time, I have to BEG himto go so I can get a break.
I know, without a doubt, that I could not have done this without hospice. I have taken advantage of all services offered and have become quite close to the chaplin who visits. The aid that bathes my fil is an angel and the nurse and social worker are true professionals. Just when i think I cannot take another moment, they are there.
These past few days, I have taken the time to do just simple things, like opening the front door and allow the sun in ( all the doors to every rooom has to remain closed, even though we have a sturdy storm/glass door in front, as my fil believes the outside air will harm him. He believes the"odors" from the other room bother him ). I have been able to listen to music, while cleaning the house and clean his area where he sleeps ( in the livingroom).
I might add, that yesterday, he called my husband to tell me not to move anything or spray disinfectant.. I couldn't believe how upset I was. I spent all day, cleaning his room, laundry, and bathroom, as I cannnot do hardly anything when he is here.
I came to the realization that it is not his disease ( end stage emphysema ) that is so hard, it's his personality, which is critical, passive-aggressive, scared man.
Again, thanks to all and have a great day!!!!
Sort of like passing your problems over to the higher power. When I've done all I can, I say "God, this is too much for me. Deal with it."
But Hospice also includes respite care for Caregivers. Hospice "angels" truly understand how absolutely overwhelming it can be for the family member(s) who endure the physical, mental, emotional, and often financially-depleting role inherent in caring for our loved one. It's a difficult and demanding job, usually sans pay, benefits, vacation time, off-hours, weekends, and appreciation. Most other fulltime Caregivers will concur that you can kiss goodbye personal freedom. Before long, Caregivers feel we've lost ourselves - that our lives have been stolen from us. And we've become invisible to the world around us. We're emotional time-bombs; vacillating between feelings of resentment, anger, and guilt, to fear, sadness, affection, and love. It's a balancing act that we never seem to achieve. Caregiver burnout is all too real. Hospice is so much more than a place or people who willingly take over the care of our dying loved one. Hospice blesses us with an opportunity to breathe, to sleep, and hopefully to relax a bit knowing that our loved one is in the best possible environment. Hospice angels earn their wings every day with every soul under their skilled care.
As with most aspects of life, one truly never understands what others endure until they've walked the same path. In 2004, literally overnight, I became the fulltime Legal Caregiver of my entire little family; my terminally ill father (lung cancer, exacerbated by insulin-dependent diabetes, and a stroke took him from us Christmas morning, 2006, 3 days after placing him in Hospice), my legally blind mother (now 89, a retired teacher who, within 2 years, underwent two knee replacements, heart disease requiring a pacemaker, and a serious accident from which she sustained a fractured femur resulting in hip surgery), and my only sibling - a developmentally disabled sister with severe hearing impairment, strabismus, heart disease, ataxia, lymphedema in both legs (she's had 6 surgeries since 2005). My own career as a high school instructor was hijacked 3 times due to Caregiving responsibilities. Trying to work fulltime while caring for my family fulltime finally took its toll on me. I had ignored my own healthcare needs and was forced to retire early in 2010. Some days are wonderful and some days I want to run away. But in the grand scheme of things, I have acquired new skills, expanded my knowledge, and learned a valuable lesson; we live our lives day by day, the best we can, until we die. And what happens in between is not what we wanted or planned. But on our road trip through life, how we choose to drive over the speed bumps of unanticipated events is what matters most.
Sorry for the lengthy epistle. Hugs to you and the rest of you Caregivers out there!