Fast forward to 2019, many friends, family, places, and memories were forgotten. By this time, we had every safety device, camera, alarm, and gadget inside and outside of Dad’s house. Other services such as meals on wheels, carers, and medication packs were also implemented in a bid to keep him as safe and independent as possible. We were trying so hard to keep him living at home because that is what he wanted. But it was becoming increasingly harder. He was scared, frightened, and agitated, as hallucinations had begun to take hold. He was regularly leaving his house at all hours because the hallucinations made dad believe there were people living in his garden who were trying to attack him. On one occasion I could see him crawling up his driveway against the fence, trying to get away in the night - forcing me once again to put my trust in other people or the police to find him and bring him home.
The breaking point eventually came in September when I was on holiday. I spent the entire week on the phone to the police, as his escapes suddenly became frequent. Moments after stepping off the Eurostar, I decided to drive straight to Cheltenham as dad was once again missing. Various social services, doctors, and medical professionals were already involved in dad’s care; however, nobody could help me because he had only been reassessed three weeks prior where they deemed him safe to continue living at home. Except things had dramatically changed in this time. Sadly, I learnt that if residential care was needed, we would have to do our own research and find an appropriate care home. Why? Because dad had the funds in his bank. I tried explaining to social services that I didn’t live locally and the situation was urgent, yet all they could do was send hundreds of brochures. Except if he was unable to fund everything himself, they could arrange everything in a matter of hours! How is that fair?
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