Things are not going well for Dad since we moved him into his ALF 10 days ago. He is so depressed, he has given up on life and says he is just waiting to die. Since July he has had an enormous amount of change to deal with.

It started with the cane and the toilet support handles he did not want to use in his apartment. He has in his mind that if he uses these sorts of things they will make him weaker, not safer. Eventually by the beginning of August he was at least using the cane outdoors, although he still insisted on holding on to walls and furniture indoors.

In August he knew he was going to be evaluated for his driving skills, so he took a trip to see his girlfriend before they could test him and possibly rescind his driving priveleges. He got invovled in an accident on the trip, and as a result his insurance was cancelled. So he has lost the use of his car - he transferred title to my sister and can no longer drive.

He is also mourning the loss of his girlfirend because he can no longer drive to go see her and she is unable to travel due to back problems. The fact that they talk frequently on the phone doesn't phase him - he's "losing Shirley" in his mind. I've told him next spring when it warms up either my sister or I can take him for a visit. That doesn't help much. He perks up for a few minutes, then falls back into "I'm losing her" mode.

When he was released from the hospital, it was with a walker instead of the cane. It is actually much better for him as he never got the hang of using the cane correctly and his sense of balance has been deteriorating. But it's another sign he is getting weaker, another failing to accept.

He's in a semi-private room with a roommate now. We thought it would be good for him to get as much social interaction as possible, but it also means he has lost his privacy. He's not at all happy about it. It means his conversations with his girlfriend can be overheard, and so can his crying.

He's also lost his dog. Although the facility he is in states that pets are not accepted, the owner gave Dad permission to have his dog on the condition that he must be able to take it outside for walks on his own - the aides can not do it for him. Right now he is not strong or stable enough to do this, so the dog resides at my sister's. She takes it to visit as her work schedule allows, which is right now once or twice a week. Meanwhile, the other residents informed him his first night there that pets were not allowed. This upset Dad tremendously. He wanted to check out the next morning. It took a lot of convincing to remind him that Steve said the dog would be allowed once he could walk it.

He's become incontinent. He used to have accidents every now and then because he couldn't get to the toilet quickly enough. It took a lot of convincing, but I finally got him to wear men's shields in his underwear in August. At first it was only when he was going out in public, but he took it upon himself to wear them all the time once he got used to them. His second day at the ALF, he was in a public area, did not know where the bathroom was, and had an accident. It soaked through the shield and made a puddle on the floor. The owner called my sister and said accusingly, "I thought you said your Dad was continent?" (he was, for the most part, only 2 weeks ago!) and now insists that he wear pull-ups instead of the shields. Dad has great difficulty pulling them down and up with his balance issues and also since he has used a fly all his life (he was pushing the shields to the side rather than drop his drawers). Instead of trying to get to the bathroom on time, he now just goes in the depends. He has decided if they are going to make him wear diapers, well then, he'll just use them and not even try to use the toilet.

I've called and talked with him several times, and each time he just seems sadder and sadder. I can usually cheer him up, but this last call anythinig I said he had a counter to and just ended up more unhappy by the end of the conversation. It breaks my heart to see him so sad.

His psychologist visited him on Thursday and sister warned him ahead of time that Dad was putting on a happy face in public but crying over his plight in private and was very depressed. The visit didn't seem to help much. He's already doubled the dose on Dad's antidepressant.

Dad doesn't even ask to leave or go home. He told my sister yesterday his life is over and he is ready to die.

I know this is early in the adjustment period, but it hurts so to see him like this and be unable to do anything. My sister and I know we are responsible for keeping him healthy and safe, and it's up to him to find happiness - we can't make him happy. But still we keep trying.

The dog is going for a visit again today. Hope it cheers him up and doesn't make him sad that the can't keep it there.

He may very well get used to everything after and adjustment period. Don't sell him short. He may do better yet.

Can he go see Shirley sooner rather than later? Maybe that would help.

It can take a few weeks for antidepressants to kick in. If he just started the higher dose, there's still hope that they will help. If not, they can try other antidepressants or higher doses of this one. Some work better in certain people than others.

Oh Gidget I hope he does get over this depression. It must be so hard on him. He needs to make a friend. It sounds like he's still capable of making a friend. I also starting freaking out after first placing my mother. The first time I heard her talking about wanting to die, OMG, it just broke my heart. I was almost to the point of removing her from the placement. Thank you know who that I didn't.

I'm also really glad that your sister was able to take the dog and that she brings the dog to visit your dad. Hopefully seeing the dog will cheer him up.

I really wish you the best of luck of luck with this. Hugs to you, I know this is really hard.

Hi Gidget,

Just wanted to send you a (((((HUG)))))!

You and your sister are going through a tough time!!

I hope your Dad feels better soon.

I don't quite know what to say. I just know how hard it is on us when our LO's are depressed and "wanting to die". My mom's been going through some of that lately, again. It is heartbreaking. Sending you a big hug!

If it helps, regarding the cane, inform him that you know many people MUCH younger who use a cane.

I am one.

I am age 39 and cannot go anywhere without my beloved cane. I was embarassed at first, for similar reasons, vanity, manhood and so on. Now, it is indispensable.

Good luck in all you have ahead!

I was going to start a new thread, My Poor Daddy Part 2, but decided to just add to this one as it really isn't a new topic but an update.

Dad contines to struggle, but does seem to have settled in to a certain degree. He is tremendously more cognitively compromised than he was just a month ago. It is my belief that in addition to the UTI he has had a TIA and this is one of those stair-step declines one sees with vascular dementia. He is having an MRI on December 9th to see what's going on in there.

I am in town visiting him this weekend and helping sister to empty the last of his belongings from his apartment. Yesterday we shampooed the carpets (how did he make so many stains in only 3 months!??!) Next week she turns in the keys and closes that chapter of his life.

Dad has gone from being totally depressesd and tearful all the time to an obsessive-compulsive bi-polar sort of existance. In private we have started referring to him as Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde.

Dr. Jekyll is jovial, good-natured, flirtatious and conversational with obsessive-compulsive behaviors, particularly concerning food and eating rituals. When I call and get Dr. Jekyll on the phone all is well, the aides take good care of him, the food's OK and it's not too bad living there.

Mr. Hyde is angry, depressed and tearful. Mr. Hyde resents the aides interfering in his life by making him do things like bathe and go to meals according to their schedule. They feed him only leftovers. He is downright rude and nasty to the male caregivers. Mr. Hyde got into a minor disagreement with a woman at his dining table and then got up and requested he be seated at another table. The aides let him choose the table he would move to - he chose one away from every one all by himself. Then complained to me later that they isolated him and were punishing him for having a disagreemnt with the other resident. Nothing you can say or do will sway or distract Mr. Hyde - he is determined to be miserable.

You never know what mode he will be in when you call or go visit, and he switches from one mode to the other at the drop of a hat, although my sister and I have not been able to figure out how to throw the switch from Hyde back to Jekyll yet. He snaps out of Mr. Hyde when he is ready to snap out of it.

Yesterday we took him out for Chinese for lunch. He loves Chinese food and only gets it when I visit. I thought I would go insane before he finished his egg roll. First he insists on cutting it into bite sized pieces. Then he isists on stabbing each bite with the fork rather than scooping it up. This eating method creates quite a mess with shredded cabbage all over the the table. I held my tongue. If it makes him happy to eat this way, go for it Dad.

Dad obsessed over every scrap of cabbage on the table. He was determined to clean up after himself by scooping and eating all the little bits that were spilled on the table, using his fork. He spent 25 minutes doing this, while I kept trying to distract him from it and get him to eat the eggroll still on his plate instead of the spilled stuff off the table.

But he had a good time, so all is well. He finally allowed me to hang the family photos on his walls and he was very pleased with that also. Three weeks ago he wanted nothing to do with them and would not allow us to put them up. Two days ago on the phone he was complaining about how it didn't feel like home there and he was missing all "his things." He could not identify for me what "his things" he was missing, but putting up his pictures seems to have filled that need for the moment.

His visiting psych therapist prescribed a second antidepresant for him about a week ago, but right about that same time Dad was startig to snap out of the weepy and suicidal phase he had been in so we have held off on adding another med to his regimine for now. We're giving him a little more "adjustment time" instead.

We are hoping with a little more time, Dr. Jekyll will predominate and Mr. Hyde will go dormant for the most part. We can deal with Dr. Jekyll. He's obnoxious, but good-natured and basically happy. Mr. Hyde is the one that tears us apart inside.