I feel so helpless
My father is 66 years old and had been diagnosed with atypical parkinson‘s about two years ago after years of various neurological decline diagnoses.
My mother who is (or was, I don’t know anything anymore) his primary caretaker is away on vacation, visiting her sister abroad because she was so burnt out and has also been diagnosed with her own set of health issues. I encouraged her to go away for a while because I couldn’t bear seeing her so miserable anymore and she clearly needed some rest. Now I don’t know if she’s going to care for him again or even if she’ll be coming back. But that’s a whole other issue.
Now someone from the family is so gracefully helping care for him, and I’m there too. But I also have the family business to take care of + my own job. I haven’t been staying at my own flat for over a year now and been living with my parents to be around with them.
Last week dad was diagnosed with a UTI, and he now takes antibiotics alongside the tons of meds he already ingests every day. Note that he has no independence whatsoever. He wakes up many times a night to go to the loo and needs help to get out of bed + to sit on the toilet + to get back. Tonight he woke up suddenly extremely dizzy. He says it feels like low blood pressure. But i also found out that he bumped his head yesterday. He refuses to go to the ER (he’s by far the most stubborn person I know). Maybe I should insist more on that in the morning.
I don’t know what to think or do. It took him a while but he went to the loo and we put him back to sleep. Now it’s three thirty in the morning and I can‘t sleep, I know he will wake up again soon and it will be the same struggle again. And I’m on this subreddit for the first time reading all these posts. Realising that these UTIs are a sign that the end is close. But for a man who was so extremely fit and healthy only a few years ago, it’s hard to imagine such a sudden end. I can’t comprehend it, it’s hitting me like a bus.
And even if he doesn’t go away soon, I cannot see the point to all this suffering. It might be even worse an outcome.
I’m not sure what I’m expecting, posting something like this. This illness is the worst thing that can ever happen to a person and their family. I hate to see him like this. I hate to see my mother like this. I hate people’s pity and opinions. I hate being called strong. I don’t want to be strong. I’m not strong. I hate that I can’t do more (and that deep inside I don’t want to because it’s so unfair). That I can’t live my own life in my own house. That I’m missing time with the person I love and want to marry. That my father will never be a part of celebrating this love. And that my last memories of him will be these, because I can already barely remember him as a healthy man.