Well, today he went into a home. He was all for it yesterday, when the ladies came and visited to tell him about it, but of course, he doesn’t remember them coming and he can change his mind in heartbeat (and then deny he ever had the opposite view, ever!) let alone overnight. So I didn’t pack him a bag before we went as I knew he’d object, so I just made it look like we were going out for lunch. Once we got through the door he realised and started saying “What have you done!?” and saying he wanted to go home so they whisked me off to see his bedroom (very nice indeed with a lovely view of the courtyard garden, it’s an old Rectory) and had a talk with me with much much reassurance. Then they sneaked me out so he didn’t see me again and didn’t get more wound up. I packed a bag for him and took it back this afternoon.
Apparently it took him a couple of hours to calm down but by the time I got there he was chatting to one of the lady residents and was laughing and joking. They have told him he’s having a holiday so that I can have a holiday – which is partially true, and is actually something they can continue to tell him because he won’t know he’s been there for five minutes or five years.
But I feel like crap. Seriously like crap. I’m going to ring the Alzheimer’s society tomorrow just to talk to someone about it, and find out if there are counselling sessions or perhaps (hollow laugh) my doctor will be able to recommend somewhere (i doubt it)(he’ll probably blame it on my weight….) I feel guilty and sick and restless and although we didn’t talk much on the phone towards the end, because he didn’t hear it often, I can’t ring him and hear his voice. I suppose i’ve got to go through all the normal symptoms with a load of added guilt, even though I know I’ve done the right thing. The only thing.
He’s being assessed tomorrow under the Mental Health Act, just in case he’s too much for them to handle, and if that happens he’ll be moved to a secure hospital and sectioned.But they say they can manage him, and I hope they can. When I was packing his bag, it was worrying the things I found – he had a hammer in his bedside table, a rolling pin in a drawer and a shillelagh by the bed. So it’s quite possible he might have hurt someone at some point.
i got very very drunk last night – and I wish I’d kept it for tonight, to be honest.
The home is a bit… faded, it has to be said – although they said that they are having an update “soon” but the social worker had already warned me that it’s not very plush but the care is excellent, and from what I’ve seen that’s true.
They don’t want me to visit for a week, which is fine, it will give me time to unwind and it will hopefully give him some time to settle in. I’m welcome to visit at any time of the day or night after that, take him out for the day etc, but i don’t really want to be doing that, because he’ll not want to go back or something. I’ll have to see how he is after his week.
Thank you to everyone who has contacted me, or commented here, on FB, on Twitter, it’s much appreciated. You’ll never know how much. I don’t know what I’d do without al of you, and that’s the truth.© Copyright 2013 Erastes, All rights Reserved. Written For: Erastes