I am 68, and have a few medical issues of my own (big one of fairly recent development). I came back here 12 years ago to originally see that she was able to stay in her own home and to 'look after her'. Since then her condition has deteriorated and my role has become caregiver 24/7. Should any adult male be happy pulling down his mother's pants so that she can go to the potty?There is no family around here who can help (at least that I can even possibly count on and trust) or her friends (who are mostly either dead or as old as she is) to help, we have no church or organizational affiliations to step in, her doctor approved hospice and they have been good for her and even have some limited resources for me for brief times out of the house, otherwise it is just me. If I had to take her to a nursing home it would have to be under physical restraints. By the way, everyone compliments me on how well I care for her, even her.
The problem is that everyone from mom to relatives to the hospice nurses treat me in reality like some sort of ancient family retainer or servant or fathful hound or something and I am completely disregarded, even though they effect a sincere-sounding attitude of concern. I am not talking about some free bone occasionally with the offer of a couple hours off, I am talking about a total attitude that my entire reason for being is just to care for mom, that I should be so happy to have my "dear mother" with me still, that "warm and fuzzy".feelings about being a caregiver are supposed to be enough. I do not feel "warm and fuzzy", my mom is not the "cookie-baking grandma" that everyone thinks she is. There is no time to form any local relationships here, even if I did meet someone I like to spend time with, I do not have the time so spend. Even to keep the appointments for hospice etc., they usually want to come at a time which I can get out of the house for a few minutes. When there are no appointments I am only too glad to collapse on the sofa and take a nap! but even that is not possible some days. I am tired, my back aches, and my nerves are freyed. If I were to have the operation that it is suspected I will be needing I do not know when I could scheule in the recouperation time. I recently had a weekend visit by my nephew, her grandson who lives at a long distance and I was more like a deskclerk and short order cook than an uncle. I was happy to see him leave, and I hate that. Life has just become one dreary day after another.