@joystir59 I wish you all the very best in trying to take care of MIL. Because that is exactly what you are doing (despite what some on here may think).
My DMum was diagnosed with Alzheimer's 7 years ago. At first my DSis's and I managed to help her in her own home as she was able to shop, cook and look after herself with a little help. We got Attendance Allowance for her which allowed us to get domestic help as mum's issue was she forgot to clean properly. We were assigned an Admiral's Nurse - marvellous help to us in getting benefits etc. Worth speaking to that organisation if you are coping with a relative with dementia. They even managed to get a blue badge for mum - and we know how hard they are to get!
Then, a few years later, she moved into an Extra Care sheltered home - as someone has already explained, these are flats for independent living but with helpers on site to cover medical needs or similar.
She had begun to forget to take her medications despite us putting them into boxes for her and her Alzheimer's made her eligible as a council tenant to the extra help.
She was there a year when I found her, at 9.30am, putting her dinner in the oven one day. Her on site carer - who used to come in three times a day to do her tablets for her as she was forgetting to take those - confirmed that she'd had breakfast at 7.30am. Her district nurse (mum was diabetic) confirmed that she'd seen her do this once before. We discovered she was eating all her meals before lunch time and nothing then until the morning - which made her diabetes worse.
Within a month or so she had started wandering. Thankfully the main doors were on a pressure pad device which she didn't know how to operate or she'd have been in the road at 4.30am (the time the carer called me).
So we upped the help. We got Wiltshire Farm Foods so that mum's carer could make her a meal whilst they did her medication and sit with her so she ate at the right time.
Six months later she had a massive fall and never returned to her flat. She was assessed and we realised she had, basically, got to the stage where everyone was doing everything for her. We, her daughters, would organise all her medication, get her shopping, give her a shower, do her washing and ironing. Her carers were microwaving her meals, making sandwiches and cups of tea and making sure she had her medication. The domestic helper was doing her cleaning and also making her cuppas as was the district nurse. Mum literally was just sitting in a chair until it was time to go to the Day Centre once a week - which was the highlight of her week. What she was missing was company. We were all keeping her alive but not giving her a life.
As a family we spent so much time 'doing' stuff for her that we forgot she was our mum. There wasn't a lot of time for chit chat. We arrived, did her shower, put her washing on or got the ironing done if another sister had done the washing the day before. We'd get her ready for appointments - I covered 27 individual appointments one year as she had so many different issues. But actually coming in, making a cuppa and spending a few hours chatting just didn't happen anymore. She needed so much doing for her.
The respite home she went into whilst decisions were being made called me one day and said they really thought full term care was the only way forward now. So Social Services got involved. I was ready to fight for mum's corner but the meeting lasted 30 minutes and mum was on the list for a care home place at that point.
Mum's care home (LA funded as she was a council tenant) was lovely. Mum settled the minute she walked in. Just to see her laughing with the staff when we came to visit was lovely and to actually be able to get a cuppa and sit and chat to her knowing someone else was doing all the 'stuff' that kept her going was a blessing. She spent two Christmases there and Christmas Day was wonderful. Three course meal, presents for every resident from the staff, visitors chatting to everyone and all the staff in Santa hats with Christmas songs being played and residents joining in. The care was fantastic and their patience was something to see. I couldn't have done half the things they did for my mum.
Mum died last year, just before the Covid lockdown began. But for the two years she was in that home we got a bit of our mum back. The stress on our shoulders was taken away. I was getting, before mum went in, phone calls at 3am as mum thought it was 3pm (a common dementia problem). I'd get calls if she had a fall and would be sitting on the floor with her and a carer at 4am waiting for an ambulance to come and assess if she could be moved. Meanwhile my DH was at home getting our DS ready for primary school and I'd be clock watching hoping I wasn't going to end up in A&E whilst DH phoned work, yet again, to say there was a problem and he couldn't get in.
When she was in her care home she had a couple of falls. We found out the next day as the care home staff dealt with it, ambulance called, no major damage and back into bed. The stress that fell away from me was unbelievable. I hadn't realised how badly I was coping towards the end, before she was accepted for residential care home.
For mum and for us a care home was the best option. It was a pleasure to be with our mum again where it was beginning to become a chore that we just did out of duty. We've got lovely memories of mum in her care home. The laughter we'd hear as one of the team said something 'cheeky' to her, the smile on her face when she saw us arrive, then the smile on her face when we left as she realised tea and cake was being served (so we often went without even a wave from her!)
Sometimes doing the right thing can involve doing the hard thing. I watched a very dear friend of ours work his way into the ground trying to care for his DW even with four carers and friends helping. When she died it was like watching a slab of wall being lifted off of him - he was so tired, so stressed with all the things he 'had' to do. We know someone through friends of ours who can't go out after work now as her mum, who lives with her, calls all the time if she isn't home by 6.30pm. It's not a way to live and it builds resentment when final years should be filled with love.
Sorry for the ramble but people often dismiss or belittle the idea that relationships can be saved by making these sorts of decisions.