About Me

HOW I GOT TO THIS POINT…..2023 The year from HELL

I’ve been going through hell the last 4 years. It’s to the point where I can’t legit remember the last time I truly enjoyed myself. My goal everyday is to literally make it through that day.

Depression is a cruel disease. I would much rather be an alcoholic or a drug addict. There is no rehab for the brain. Being trapped in your own thoughts is crueler than any prison that ever existed.

Over the past 4 years, I’ve given so much of myself that I truly have nothing left.

Brief sypnopsis:

2021: Break up of my relationship that left me devastated. All I ever wanted to be was a father. That break up meant I would no longer have daily access to my kids. A piece of me died then. It would only get worse.

2022: I spent most of the year trying to navigate my new normal. I had to rebuild my life. Spitefully the break up came unnanounced at the end of our lease. This occurred right after Christmas so I was literally tapped out. I had to rent a room until I found a permanent place to stay. Little did I know that this would become the topic of discussion 2 years later.

It took a while to get back on track but I managed. Well I managed until I got the news that my mother’s health was declining. She was diagnosed with Advanced Dimentia.

2023: Worst year of my life. I’m trying to balance being a father and a good son. Four months after being promised assistance for my mother’s care, my father is receiving none. He was in his 70s trying to take care of his wife with advanced dimentia. My mother is beginning to roam. She is soiling herself. She is a threat to her own safety. Still no assistance given. The Veteran’s Admin is dragging their feet. Local, county and federal agencies are blaming each other. I don’t give a damn. I just want her cared for. Finally they approved care…….a whopping total of 6 hrs per week.

I decide to come down for a week to get this straigtened out. I assumed that it was perhaps miscommunication with my father communicating with all these different parties. I met with her doctor, case manager and her health provider. I figured that this would get resolved soon. I was told that the doctor had to sign off on the the extra care. When I met with him, I quickly realised it was a pill factory. Despite her incontinense, roaming, lack of coherant conversations and much more, he hadn’t signed off on more. I told him that she was only getting 6 hrs per week. He stated ‘some people don’t get that’ I felt rage at that point. I repeated ‘ Some people only get 6 hrs with Advanced Dimentia!! He thought I meant 6 days. He looked me dead in the eye and said that was the responsibility of the county. Per him, he does what they say. After let’s just say, cursing him out without cursing him out, care was approved….or so I thought.

I returned back to Atlanta with a little more peace of mind. Then weeks went by. No more care came.

I started making trips twice per week. I worked remote so this was plausible. After seeing the condition of my mother, the condition of my father and the condition of the house, I could not in good conscious leave them like that. I had a brother in VA but he was NOT helping. So I unofficially moved back to my hometown of Cheraw, SC, population 5000.

My father was a private person and so was I. Many truly didn’t know the extent of her condition. That was until the ambulance visits. Her condition was rapidly deteriorating. She would be hospitilized 3 times in 2023.

When you live in a town the size of a high school and with the same mentality, gossip travels fast. Why was I home? Why is his car parked all the time? Why don’t I ever see him?

Truth is, I was burnt out. My normal day started at 8. I worked from 10-7 pm remotely from my parents home. I would get frequent unscheduled visits from my mother. It was not her fault. She roamed. I actually lost a gig to this, security concerns.

After I clocked out, it was time to give my father a break. He could now run errands or just simply do something to get a peace of mind. Seeing your wife of over 50+ years become unrecognizable takes a toll on you. He was doing the best he could.

During the night, my mother roamed. Any noise would wake me up out of concern. On average I got about 2 hours of sleep. This was not a healthy way to live.

This pretty much continued until August of 2023. Because of the strain of being so far away, my coparenting relationship went to hell. I informed my father that I would be moving back to Atl to try to salvage as much as I could.

I was in my place for all of THREE weeks when I got the news. My father had a heart event.

My mother was hospitilized at the time. He went to church service before visitiing her. My uncle informed him that he looked pale and told him to get checked out when he went to visit my mom. He quickly learned that he had fluid on his heart. They drained what they could and air lifted him to McLeod in Florence, SC.

I drove to SC in a panic. I’m feeling cursed at this point. Both of my parents are in the hospital in separate towns.

I visit my parents twice a week while driving back and forth to Atl. I get daily updates from the staff at the Cardiac Care Unit as well as updates from my mother.

I feel I’m failing in all avenues in my life. I’m not the parent or the son I want to be. It’s impossible to devote the necessary time to all. I’m rebuilding my career after taking a job below my skillset to remain employed. I just kept asking, ‘Why Me?’. I considered myself a good person, why am I being tested so much.

It didn’t get better.

My father was released after 6 weeks. On the way back to Cheraw, he was involved in an accident. My previously absent brother hit a deer on a back road. Thankfully, neither were hurt. I couldn’t make this up if I tried.

During this time we had made a coordinated effort to get my mother permanent placement in a facility. It was painfully obvious that my father, despite his best efforts, could not care for my mother.

My mother’s hospital stay had been extended due to the circumstances surrounding my father. But they wanted her gone. We worked with the case manager on an option of hospice. They explained that it didn’t mean immediate death and it could be extended 18 months. Everything was done but the paperwork.

Upon arriving at the hospital, my father declined. All that work down the drain. He was angry at my brother and I for even planning it. Back to square one.

The staff is telling my father that he has to do something. He meets with a rep for Home Hospice. He decides in that he can’t approve it in good conscious. Home hospice in our county was not 24 hrs and he would have to commit to certain aspects of her care.

This leaves the only option of a Nursing Home. This is another round of delays for placement.

The Mcleod Cheraw is expressing their disapproval, They want that room. I noticed my mother’s weight declined. I see unopened trays and unopened nutrional drinks. They are using her room for storage. They are abusing her.

Around this time, my relationship with my father sours. In my mind, his pride was accelerating her demise. If he didn’t get cold feet about the hospice, she wouldn’t be getting abused.

Fast forward to the Christmas holidays. My mother has been in the hospital since Sept. Time is running out.

I kid you not! On Christmas night, we get a call from the head doctor of the holiday staff. He is telling us that my mother will probably not make it more than 3 days. This is the first time in my adult life that I saw my father cry.

The doctor asks if we want to use the option to resuscitate. We agree yes. I then ask if a feeding tube can be placed. The doctor argues with me then agrees. The procedure is takes place 2 days later. Her health rapidly improved. It’s now finally obvious to my father that she was being neglected.

Expedited paperwork is filed to finally get my mother to a facility. Now I can finally breath….so I thought!

This leads to 2024 the point of no return