As I think of the events of the past week I begin to shudder. I had to go to the Drs to get a sick note so I could devote all my time to Mum and Dad, things were deteriorating fast and my Dad was no longer coping. I began to get more and more text messages from Dad, as Mum was in bad moods with him and he needed someone to deflect the situation. Mum was slowly destroying the lovely home they had furnished, cherished and kept so beautifully clean and tidy. Mum was finding a colossal strength from somewhere being able to move large pieces of furniture.

Mum began to have times when she would push, shove my Dad and the situation became dangerous. In the middle of the week Mum tried hitting Dad around and these 'attacks' became more frequent. The one day I went to work, Dad called the GP thinking they could sedate her, but a change of medication was the only help and a quiet word about putting her in a home, also the impression was given not to phone again. Where are the days of someone really caring gone? Even if a doctor can do nothing for the 'ill' person surely the carer needs time , counselling and compassion.I think during this week the only person who took time out to really stop and talk was a local nurse who called to give Mum a Vitmin B12 injection. He took time to listen to me, tell me that we had some tough decisions to make. If he should ever read this I hope he recognises himself and realises that it is people like him that do leave a lasting impression of caring. the extra time he took is so appreciated.
I was adamant that I could overcome this demon and I would look after her at home, so from the middle of the week ,I spent 24 hours with Dad to protect, deflect and try to calm the situation. Neither of us were quite ready to let go.

After the local GP's were called 3 days on the trot they basically said not to call them anymore as there was nothing they could do, phonecalls from the Consultant psychatrist urged us to put her back in the secure unit at hospital but both Dad and I hated the place, as both men and women who have lost their inhibitions wandered in each others bedrooms with not enough staff to monitor the situation (the reason why we had withdrawn her once before). Our hearts were slowly being broken and our options very limited. Thursday brought a breakthrough, we had (with advice) changed medication to try to stabilise Mums moods.....withdrawing diazapan and increasing quitiepine and we had a good day. A phonecall from the Consultant said that she had secured a weeks respite at a local home (renowned for helping dementia patients), we discussed it with Mum, tried to get her to understand we were just looking at day care or for one weeks holiday to give dad a rest. We were never sure how much Mum understood by now, as her words were jumbled and she seemed to use rhyming words. She was increasingly frustrated at reacting to conversation and you had to show her the the item that you were talking about. Tears in my eyes became a freqent occurence.

We looked aound 'the White House' and had a really good afternoon, Mum became animated , hugged the staff and took to some of the patients . The home is built on a quadrant , ideal for dementia patients because they can walk around and around with access to an outdoor quadrant which gives them freedom but safety within a controlled environment. Mum had a great time , the only moments of shuddering were by the locked door. Any difficulties Mum had had were to do with locked doors and I think I would find the same problem to be denied my freedom in life.

Anyhow we went home, Dad excited at the prospect of a rest, me dubious that it was going to work, thinking that Mum needed to go to day care first to build her confidence, then go for a week. When we went home Mum said adamantly that it was a nice place but she was not going there, not yet. She was clearly able to communicate this. that night she told Dad she was frightened of being locked up, so would I be and I am sure any reader too. Dad cancelled the place, we reassured her that she did not need to go, gritted our teeth and decided to carry on caring for Mum, even if it was taking 2 people 24 hours care each. The blessing was that she was sleeping at night, so we did get some rest although I have to say that like tonight when I am writing this , I would wake and think about how we would go on, praying that Mum would have a heart attack and die in my arms at home.

That night was the beginning of the end of home care for the moment, Mum became more violent towards us , pushing, shoving , hitting us until we just had to hold her and restrain her, for her benefit and ours. The sounds of her screaming 'Mum' Mum' help me mum, will haunt me for ever.Sadly I will remember the horrid things she said, vile names she called me, the taunting, the rambling life history and the way she pinched and dug her nails deep into my skin. Not my Mum who would be mortified at hurting anyone she loved. She loved her children, her grandchildren and her 2 great grandchildren, they were her life.
Dad and I both said to each other that night that we would see how mum woke but we could do no more for her- she had pushed dad at one point , he fell and tumbled hitting his head, at that point I knew that I had to consider dad and let her go. I had done all I physically could and the words of a dear friend of mine came flooding back 'there may come a time when you can't look after her, but you will know when this time comes'. I knew we had reached that point. I had to let go.
Saturday morning arrived and Mum woke up angry, she pushed , shoved and was not pleasant. At 6am I woke my eldest daughter who had come home for the weekend to try to deflect the situation. She came in with her bunch of flowers . Mum loves her dearly and would usually have hugged, cried , talked to her, listened to her but instead she had a shoe thrown at her. Mum had an hour long outburst , 3 people had to hold her for her own safety. Dad phoned the hospital, arranged transport with a very heavy heat but knowing there was no other option. My son was helping by now also, so Dad could be free to make phonecalls. When the ambulance arrived I could not watch, so my eldest two children stayed, not easy for them watching their darling Nan going to hospital but I was so proud of them. Jono went in the ambulance, with Dad and took Nan to the ward. What a brick. They texted when they were ready and slipped out quietly. Mum was happy having a cup of tea with her assigned nurse and seemed certaily happier than at home. We could do no more for the moment.
My husband went to pick them up , we all went out for a meal , talked about the days events which is always theraputic, shopped for food then went to bed for rest. Except that now I couldn't sleep, so this is my therapy writing the story. I still have a heavy heart , a gutted feeling and a belief that if mum had died physically , this would be easier but she hasn't, her pesonality had died but physically she is still there, still in torment, not living any quality of life reiterating to me that I must enjoy every day and do what I can while I can. I do not worry about Mum dying because I believe she has trusted God in her life and will trust him in her death and will be at peace with him , away from torment.Thank goodness we don't know the future...who would have thought this was going to be her future. What a lottery life is, whether you die of cancer, dementia, or suddenly. I think it is sad when someone dies suddenly but at least there is not this dreadful sufering whether physical or mental.