Agony of letting Mum go into care
I WOULD like to send my comfort and support to Scott Mitchell, the husband of Dame Barbara Windsor. I read with such emotion and sadness that Barbara had entered the care system and my heart goes out to Scott. I know what he’s going through. The first thing that alerted my family to the fact that something was going very wrong with Mum was when this great cook presented us with an upside down spaghetti bolognese. That eventually led to the diagnosis of dementia that was to change our lives. It’s a story that all families dealing with dementia will recognise: medical appointment, assessments, care packages and emergency hospital admissions after falls. You are exhausted by it all as well as trying to support your loved one. Nights on end without sleep, one ear always alert for the needs of your wife or mother, husband or father. Your own life goes on hold. Even with carers giving home support, there are hours of the day and night when you are on your own with your loved one. It goes on day after day and is relentless. You might make promises you are ultimately unable to keep. Mum pleaded: ‘Don’t put me in a home.’ And we did absolutely everything to avoid it. But the endless tiredness, mental stress, strain and emotion catches up with you. Dementia is an evil and destructive disease. It robs its victims of their personality, memory and takes away every vestige of normality in their life. We tried to keep Mum at home for as long as possible and fill her years with memories for what was to come. But there comes a time when you can’t do that any more. Mum went into the care system when we had no other choice. I was admitted to hospital the following day with a heart condition caused by extreme stress. The feeling we had as we left her that first day is making me cry even now, five years later. Scott, I know you must be devastated, but, having loved and supported Barbara in her hour of need, you must congratulate yourself for keeping her at home for so long. Your love and support does not stop now. It cranks up to a different level. You are much more able to love Barbara because you are not tired to the point of exhaustion. You can spend quality time with her because someone else is looking after her practical needs. You will probably be feeling as if you’ve had a bereavement. The Barbara you knew, who we all loved, has changed and been swallowed up by this new person whom you recognise only every now and then. But she is still there somewhere. Keep looking and feel blessed if you see the old Barbara, but you will love and support the new Barbara, too. My Mum loved, treasured and protected me. I’m so sorry that neither I nor my elderly father could fulfil her wish to be looked after at home. But we visited her most days and treasured every lucid moment and smile. The delayed departure that is dementia set Mum free last year. Aged 92, she died, we believe of a broken heart, just 70 days after her 93-year-old husband. Scott and Barbara, my love goes out to you both. Your love will stay strong wherever you find yourselves.
CAROLE WATERHOUSE, Manchester.