Groundhog Day, a merry-go-round . . . it all fits. And it all continues.
M is still sitting in the emergency room at the local hospital, sedated, and I’m getting more and more pressure every day to bring him home. And there is NO WAY – he CANNOT come home.
I know I’ve said it before – I’ve said it countless times – M needs to be in a hospital setting for at least two weeks where his medications can be managed. Not in a situation where he is just sedated, but where he is actually treated and his aggression and violent behavior is addressed with medication. Then, he can SAFELY be moved into a memory care community where he and the other residents will all be safe.
Evidently, I’m asking for the moon.
Every behavioral health hospital I’ve called tells me that they only accept psychiatric patients and that dementia is not a psychological disease. So, M cannot be treated in their facility.
Are you kidding me? I can move him home and put myself in danger or move him into a memory care community and put other people in danger. Then, when he has a violent episode, which is GUARANTEED, by the way, he will be on a return trip to the ER for more sedation drugs . . . but he’s still not a fit for a behavioral health hospital.
When I was growing up, my mother used to threaten to have a “running, screaming fit.” I feel a running, screaming fit coming on.
I know I’ve talked about how much I love Teepa Snow (dementia advocate) and her common sense approach to working with dementia patients. She has a podcast and not too long ago she talked about an elderly man in the Midwest who killed his wife (a dementia patient) and then himself. Teepa said that the dementia community had failed that man and his wife because he had to have felt so alone and unaware of the resources available to him to take a drastic step like that.
Now, let me preface this by saying I’m not at that point AT ALL. Not spiraling down in that way. What I AM saying is, I understand what that man must have been feeling. The hopelessness. The feeling that no one is listening, that no one who could help is trying to help.
It’s a case of pass the potato (do kids still play that?) The hospital wants their bed empty for the next patient. The behavioral health hospitals want to get patients in there that can actually be “cured.” The memory care communities want to have a new resident that won’t be a danger to the other frail and elderly residents of their community. I want my husband safe, cared for and his aggressive behaviors controlled – AND I want to be safe.
So where does a 59 y/o, 5’9”, 200 lb. dementia patient go?
That’s the question.
Deep heart hurting and frustration and rage with and for you. I am so sorry for you and for thousands of us.
For those followers who have time to read I highly recommend Elder Rage, or Take My Father… Please!: How to Survive Caring for Aging Parents
by Jacqueline Marcell
It is such a similar story and helped me stay sane when facing a dangerous demented father. It’s an amazing story and the author does try to incorporate humor into her unbelievable story of the right not to take a violent parent into her home for all of the reasons written about so well in this post. I wish you a miracle.
It’s so incredibly hard. I’m so glad you’ve set your strong boundaries and are working toward finding what feels like an elusive impossible solution. I feel like our health care system has failed so many and it is heartbreaking for so many reasons. There are so many good people trying to do their best but darn it all that doesn’t seem to be enough. Hoping the stars align with a dash of divine intervention and the right path is visible very soon.