When I had to place Charlie in a nursing facility 6 months I thought my heart would break. I have spent the last 6 months visiting him every day, getting to know the staff (although I went to school with half their parents) and beginning to be comfortable with my decision. I have spent a lot of time telling the aides and nurses "Charlie" stories so that they would know the kind of wonderful, loving, humorous man that he once was. I feed him his dinner, hold his hand and tell him I love him. He eats well and squeezes my hand once in a while but for the most part I get very little reaction from him. As I chatted with the aides last evening over dinner I realized that the tables have turned. They were the ones telling "Charlie" stories. About how they found him sitting on the side of the bed Christmas morning with a box a chocolates in him lap, how he giggles if he pees on one of the girls while they are changing him, about what a kick he got out of a couple of other residents having a minor food fight at lunch time. One of the aides feeds him ice cream a lot of the time and he opens his mouth when he hears her voice. I realize that I am not the center of his life anymore. These wonderful, caring ladies who take care of him 22 hours a day compared to my 2 hours are the center of his life. And, that is as it should be. It tells me that he is getting good care but it hurts to see them get reaction where I get little. It hurts that his final days will be spent in the care of others instead of myself. It hurts that this horrible horrible disease as robbed me of his love for me and it hurts to think that he cannot feel my love for him.
Edis-you haven't been replaced. The monster has claimed the man you once knew. It is wonderful that good and caring folks have taken over the care of this new person. I know it hurts. My husband hasn't known me for years and I have to trust his care to others.
Edis, what bluedaze has said is oh so true. You are still in his heart. He just can't tell you. Hang on to the memories and take comfort that he is happy and receiving the loving care from you and the "ladies" Arms around, Susan
I am glad when the caregivers at the facility tell me stories about something my husband did. Whatever it was, it often reflects his personality and tells me that he is still in there somewhere. He still reacts to me but rarely says anything to me any more. The stories also tell me how they are taking care of him and if he likes what they are doing or not.
In some ways it is hard to know that they see him more than I do but in other ways I am glad that he is getting the care that he needs.
You are all so right about being glad he is getting good care. And the stories the aides tell me do warm the cold place in my heart a little bit. I AM glad that he is getting good care and seems so content but it still hurts. It reminds me of when I babysat for my nephew and he started calling me Mommy as my own children did. It upset my sister in law to the point that she almost quit her job. However, I know that this is another phase, another loss and I will adjust to this as I have with everything else, especially will everyone here reinforcing what I already know.