I admitted my mother to a care home the day before yesterday. Went to see her after her first night and she seemed shocked to see me initially, but settled after a few minutes.
She knew who I was and asked where she was and why she was there, I told her she'd been getting more confused and wandering, and leaving the gas hob on with no flame. It was for her safety and better care, and more interaction with people and staff, with activities and regular meals. A little later, she asked if I had a mother or siblings in the area.
I've been living half way round the world for the last 15 years and other than irregular visits have watched her decline from afar. From getting confused on the phone, to not knowing (from what her home carers said) that the phone ringing meant anything other than an annoying noise. To getting picked up wandering the street by the police at 3am in her nighty.
A friend called not long after I left the care home, he has a way of putting a lot of things into a single sentence and said, "ah yes, an emotional rollercoaster, wrapped in guilt".
I've been living half way round the world for the last 15 years and other than irregular visits have watched her decline from afar. From getting confused on the phone, to not knowing (from what her home carers said) that the phone ringing meant anything other than an annoying noise. To getting picked up wandering the street by the police at 3am in her nighty.
A friend called not long after I left the care home, he has a way of putting a lot of things into a single sentence and said, "ah yes, an emotional rollercoaster, wrapped in guilt".