oh, i can see this has kicked off so im going to throw my two pennith into the bag and THEN read the other posts.
I only had to see the word "nursing home" and my hackles were up. I had such a horrible experience with this and i have no qualms in saying that it contributed to my nervous breakdown. So i am intrinsically, and very sadly suspisious of SW and people who work in care homes. Now obviously i was unlucky and had a bad time but i had two years of hell thanks to peoples general incompetence and uselessness.
firsly, when my dad developed alzheimers we had a lovely CPN who came round and made all the right noises about getting my mum the help she needed. Nothing really ever came of it, without me having to be like a rotweiller with a bone. Then one weekend, my mum just coudlnt stand anymore - she was ill herself, my poor dad was getting aggressive, she couldnt keep him in the house (he would climb out of windows) so we phoned SS, they bollocked me for waiting til the weekend , and refused to do anything to help - they told us to phone the police and they would then have my father commited. I was Somehow we managed over the weekend.
THEN my dads social worker arrived in the middle of the week. He was a waste of fucking space - my mum had basically gone into herself and couldn't even speak to him - she was on the verge of a breakdown - he said "well, if you can't tell me whats wrong, then i cant help" But I was there, but he insisted on talking to the principal carer. All he wanted from me was to have my father at my house - no pressure then, i was pregnant, with a teenage DD at home who my poor dad had taken to call a slag (this was the illness not him) and i just couldnt do it - but he made me feel like shit for this. I didnt have any room either, a two bedroom house, one child, one on the way, demented father??? um, helllooooooooooo
Anyway, could never get to speak to this person on the phone EVER, just his secretary who was a wet weekend.
Finally we got him a place in a "care" home - if thats what you can call it. I wouldnt have treated a dog the way they treated my dad and the other "service users" - you stop being a person when you are ill, you become a "service user". My fathers evening meal consisted of sandwiches, the same fucking sadnwiches night after night - my mother would take food into him, he would be starving. He was filthy - i lost count of how many times they lost his CLEARLY LABELLED clothes. Including a railway jacket that was like acomfort blanket to him.
This is making me feel sick to type all of this.
The workers there were vile vile vile, horrible fucking pikey slags - clearly there for minimum wage because they quite frankly woudlnt have got a job elsewhere - there was ONE nice girl there and she really really tried to make things nice for the residents, bbut all the others ever did was sit in the rest room fucking smoking and talking about their drunken antics the night before. My father would sit in the rest room, i would be heavily pregnant, and not one of those lazy slags would offer me their seat.
Xmas day was the clincher for me, we went after being advised NOT to have dad home for dinner as he would become distressed - to aske if he had eaten his dinner - "no, he wouldnt sit down" no?? REALLY?? no shit, hes got fucking dementia, he alternates between thinking you are trying to kill him and thinking he is 5 years old. Its YOUR FUCKING JOB to encourage him to eat and enjoy his xmas dinner - because when they came round with the christmas tea, he was STARVING again - do you know what it was - im crying now - it was fucking jam sandwiches JAM SANDWICHES FOR CHRISTMAS TEA!!!I could have had my father home for xmas dinner, but those bastards told me not to He didnt have another christmas!!!
My mind is filled with sheer hate and resentment and im sorry but i dont want to listen to SW moan about their fucking work load, i don't care, if you cant cope, get a job where you fucking well can.
Anyway, we complained, the social workers did NOTHING NOTHING to help us, they were worse than useless. Because we complained, my father was served 30 days notice to quit, we had a month to get him another home - but they put every fucking obstacle in our way. WE had to find a home, we did - but SW refused to fund it for reasons they woudlnt disclose. We managed to find him somewhere and the people couldnt have been different. Such loving and caring folk, the carers would often stay beyond their shifts to read with the patients and just generally try and improve their quality of life. It smelt lovely in there, not of piss, they had a cat for the clients to cuddle and always had time for the relations concerns. I couldnt praise them highly enough - sadly, my dad was only there a few months before he became will with lung cancer and died.
I still see the people from the original home around the town and it is all i can do not to spit in their faces. They took my fathers last year of his life and made it a living hell.
Now, come back at me and tell me to have sympathy for those working for a minimum wage and with a high work load - i dare you.