I hate vinyl. At least it is clean. The top floor is nordic but plastic.

Respite has been extended. I have discovered a wonderful charity called relatives and residents association who actually help. Practical advice. Legalities explained, and, they reply to emails the same day. I actually feel quite optimistic, a glass of wine is in order.

As I expected we have not had a result for funding help but the guy who looks after dad and us has been able to extend his respite. I will go over and see dad tomorrow, hopefully I will get a better reception. I must ask the consultant if we might cancel the Aricept. It might make a difference to his sleepiness and I don't suppose it is doing him much good now.

New flooring is coming tomorrow. More vinyl!! It will prevent the constant carpet cleaning and make things easier for me and the carers. Had a better night last night due to sleeping tablets.

Today I will move all the furniture and stuff into dad's room while he is away. Still haven't got the plastic sheet to put under his bed to prevent the rising tide of piddle! The social services have not contact us yet so I anticipate we will be refused funding, again. M. says I am pessimistic but I can't help it. Weather still awful and there were no copies of the Telegraph left in the shop had to take the Mail.

Dad will come home on Monday and despite all I will be pleased to see him. It's not his fault he has this dreadful disease and he at least is quite happy.

I seem to be getting more tired during this respite. We have had a request from the social services to see my mothers will. Weather is awful and I barely slept a wink last night. I sat downstairs reading at 2.00 am. I have been listening to CD tapes of C J Sansom's Dissolution, very calming but I wish I could go to sleep. I have so much to do and no capacity to do it.

We went to see dad and woke him up. I don't think he knew who we were and then got grumpy!

Left his medication with the nurse. Tried to have a conversation but he wasn't having it. E asked him to show us his room. "Do I have to" He looked quite well.

Drove home.

I do quite miss dad. The house is clean but it feels empty without him. I have his medication bubble pack for next week so I will take it over to the respite place and see how he is getting on.

Rainswept and Depressed

I have stripped the house of everything to be cleaned whilst dad is away and come across little hidden items. Socks in the nick-nack draw, biscuits hidden in a cup, jumper under the pillow but still not teeth.

We have not received funding for the second week running, it is pouring with rain, my aches and pains have all come back and I wish I wasn't here, and to top it all the dog has been sick on the settee.

I am worried that the matron who has agreed to take dad on will not wait for us and the room will be lost. I am so tired.

Despite my carefully laid plans for dad's care whilst M and I were away it all fell apart on the first morning. He refused to get up to go the the day centre. The carers can't force the issue and I use lots of strategies to persuade him when he is being mulish. My favourite is to get the hoover out!

We were away from Friday until Tuesday but dad was going into respite on Monday. Friday, at some point he got dressed and sat himself on the settee and stayed there until Monday morning. No bed, no showers and no clean clothes. Oh well.

We had a great time and it was a bit of a struggle to come home.

Lastnight I came downstairs to remind dad to go to bed. He asked whether mum was coming up too then he turned to his left (odd) and started patting the arm rest, when it didn't respond he began to thump it, really hard. If she had been there she could have sued him for battery. I said to him that she was already upstairs. "No, she's not, she's here."

I left him to it. He came up later with some items that he didn't know what to do with. A used nappy pad (only piddle fortunately) and his electric shave with half the bits missing.

"where am I sleeping tonight?"

Most people run away from ghosts

The transport forgot to pick dad up today so I took him down at 11.00 and joined in the two minutes silence.

Had a disturbed night with M having a dream......He found himself, me and children in a large american barn with hay on the floor and gaps between the wooden slats. There was a ghost in the barn too, it looked like an amorpheus (don't know how to spell that) blob with twinkling lights in the centre and it was keeping him awake. Here's the rub, he chased it into a corner and then tried to blow its lights out with lots of huffing and puffing - which is what woke me up! We have discussed this at length and he is the only person I know who runs towards ghosts rather than away.

I am gearing myself up for Friday, us leaving for a weekend away, dad on his own until Monday and me leaving him a packed case for the respite. It could all go terribly wrong......

Grey Tuesday 10th November 2009

The guy from social services came and after lots of questions to dad, most of which received random and inaccurate replies, he agreed that he would go to a care home. This was a relief but I still spent the day feeling unsettled. Funding has to be applied for representing the difference between what dad has got and what is needed. We would be self funding for approx 60%. Our social services friend applies to a committee and if they have enough money that week then he can go immediately. If they haven't got enough funds then it is put off until next Thursday and so on...

I am away on Friday and V. will look after dad until Monday when he goes into respite for two weeks or goes to the home. I hope it all works out, it is very stressful.

I am in a lot of pain at the moment and I need some sun and luxury. Cyprus will have the sun, I hope, and my friend's home will seem like luxury compared to how we are living now.

We will return on Tuesday.

Sunday, again wet and windy

Had a great day out with a friend, I left home at 10.30 with a note for the carer to get dad up.

When I finally arrived back at 4.00 he was still in bed! I went out again and left note for the evening carer to try and get him up. She achieved and he was up when we returned from our evening out at 11.00.

Dad is looking for mum again and he asked me where she was. Once again I explained she died 4 years ago. "But where is she?"

"In the cemetary" I reply

"Oh, is she with her husband?"

"You're her husband"

"I know that" he says.

The frozen ready meal for today's lunch was Shepherds Pie with vegetables, it smelled nice but dad took one look at it and said "What sort of lunch is this then?"

He described it as Shepherds muck pie......

Tomorrow we are expecting a visit from the Social Services guy who will try and obtain dad's consent to go into a care home. If he can't take this on board we can make the decision for him.

I hope we don't have to do that.

Friday

I can't remember what happened yesterday other than it was Bonfire Night and M went out to watch the celebrations. I was too tired and didn't feel well.

Friday we got dad up early ready for the Phoenix. We had a visit from the Financial Assessment representative. Daunting......

Tomorrow a friend is coming to stay in the town, hopefully M will look after dad while I go out.

Tuesday/Wednesday

Yesterday, Tuesday, dad wouldn't get up even though the carer didn't come until 11.00. Nothing we could say would make him. He clutches his duvet up under his chin and grins at us.

Finally, the carer gave up and left - he gets up, immediately. I was so cross he didn't dare refuse a shower. I had to go out and left him to get dressed himself. When I got back from my errand several hours later he was sitting on the sofa with his vest, shirt and jumper on, no bottom bits but with his dressing gown over the top. He slept all day and gradually the piddle smell permeated the room. I sat upstairs. By the time we were ready for bed I was very irritable. As his smell increases, and you get wafts of it as he walks by, it is as if something rises up in me - for want of a better word - blood pressure. I told him we were going to bed and reminded him it was the Phoenix tomorrow and he had to get up on time. Bugger the Phoenix he swore......

I yelled at him..........no effect whatsoever but it made me feel better.

The following morning, Wednesday, he did get up reasonably promptly and was all dressed and ready by 09.30. Then, he came into the kitchen with wet trousers on, he insisted he had spilt tea.

Complete change of clothes. It takes forever and the Phoenix ringing to say they were coming.

I am shoving his pad into his pants, all dignity out of the window and trying to do up his buttons.

We were down to our last pair of trousers and they are a little long. I can't find the right belt and the one I put on is too big. Tough. I run down to open the door and he wanders down about 2 minutes later. The traffic is held up by the big coach waiting. The transport lady trys to get him into his coat as it is cold outside and I stand behind the glass door so he can't get back into the sitting room to look in the mirror. He pushes the door and I push it back so he can't get in. We tussle over the door and finally he gives up and heads out. I apologise to the transport and shut the front door on him. It is all over for another day. I am exhausted.

Tuesday/Wednesday

Sunday Wet and Windy 1st November

We forced dad out of bed at 12.00 in time for lunch. He has a cut on his forehead, no idea how he got it. At dinner time I noticed that he was not using his knife and his fork was in his right hand, the opposite to normal. Another TIA? He had a conversation with my coat and when it didn't answer he patted it. Otherwise quite happy.