I feel in need of a rant.
Right now I feel like the worst person in the world for feeling full of resentment in my roll as a carer.
Since my 88 year old father's metastatic prostate cancer diagnosis 6 years ago,
I took on the task of organising all of his medication, regular blood tests, scans, x-ray's, doctor's appointments, oncology appointments and hospice visits,
I accompanied and drove him to every appointment, researched and arranged extra treatments, as well as regular shopping, ironing, and housework, along with looking after my mother now aged 93.
As an only child, divorced and not working everything fell to me, my own kids conveniently live far enough away to be no help whatsoever.
I should also add that my father has extensive bone metastasis, and 9 weeks ago he suffered extensive lower back pain, that was diagnosed as several small spinal fractures
He was admitted to hospital for a period of four weeks.
I visited every day, and we were eventually informed that there was no further treatment available, and palliative care was now the only option available.
My father then received CHC fast track funding which was duly awarded.
This is when the problems really began.
As my parents live in a tiny one bedroom house, there was no room for the required hospital bed and equipment.
Therefore it was either discharge to a nursing home or to me, so I took on the care and accommodation of both my mother and my father.
I have lived on my own in my own space, and done things my own way for the last 15 years.
My home and my personal effects have been disrupted, furniture has had to be dismantled and stored, and I have a hospital bed in my lounge.
I am a carer 24/7 and I can't get away from it except to go grocery shopping.
I hear the same repeated conversations and questions all day every day until I could scream.
My mother is no use to man nor beast, she is either crying for what's going to happen when my father dies, or she sits on the sofa, staring at him all day long, like the grim reaper, the only thing missing is the cloak and scythe.
I was given the impression when I took this on that my father only had a matter of weeks to live, however he seems to be stable and I don't think he's going anywhere soon.
Had I known then what I know now, I honestly don't think I would have taken it on.
I'm impatient, snappy and full of resentment, I'm 63 and I feel like I've been surrounded by death and dying for the last 6 years, and my own life is ebbing away.
I literally have no friends and no one to talk to.
I have always had a terrible relationship with my mother for all of my life, so that's not helping either.
Even if someone came and sat with them whilst I had a break, my mother doesn't like strangers, and a 3-4 hour break once a week, is not going to make me feel any different.
I feel I couldn't possibly say I can't do this anymore and put my father in a home, having said I'd take it on, I feel honour bound to see it through.
If I had some idea how long this would go on for, there would be light at the end of the tunnel, but it's an unknown quantity.
And yes, when my father dies, my mother will return to her own home, and I have already made it clear that I will visit 2-3 times a week, and no more than that, as I need to have a life of my own.
I don't know what I expect any of my fellow carers to say to me really, as I say I feel awful and guilty for feeling the way I feel, but for once in my life I'm being honest, instead of saying what's expected of me, I'm saying exactly how I feel.
Thanks for letting me rant x