I haven't posted in a long time, but some of you may remember me. My husband and I have been helping my dad for four and a half years. He lived with us for nearly ten months while recovering from a serious illness and a fall. Then he lived in "independent" living for almost three years with a great deal of assistance from us. Toward the end of 2016, he took a bad fall and ended up spending several weeks in rehab, after which he moved into an assisted living apartment in the same senior residence. Well, history is repeating itself, but getting worse, because at the end of 2017, he took another, much more serious fall, and is in rehab again. I'm just about at the end of my rope. When he was in the hospital pre-rehab, I found myself thinking, "If I have a nervous breakdown, I won't have to take care of him any more," and it was an appealing thought. In 2017, he was hospitalized four times (including the hospitalization for this recent fall). Each hospitalization was preceded by an ER visit, of course. We also took him to numerous doctor appointments, spent lots of time on the telephone with the doctor's office, shopped for his clothes and other items, and took him on recreational outings. I'm exhausted, and I see the near future plainly: Dad needs my help in rehab. He has only one functional arm at the moment, and he can't walk. I'll have to visit him every day, regardless of how I'm feeling, both to provide practical assistance and to try to keep him from becoming depressed. No one else is going to help my husband and me with Dad's needs. My three siblings didn't even answer my e-mail about Dad being discharged from the hospital and going to rehab (although one of them is ill at the moment and might not have been well enough to respond). I've donated so much of my life to Dad, and I want to stop, but there is no real way to quit helping him.