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EXPERIENCES IN MENTAL HEALTH CARING |
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KITH AND KIN (Sixties Press 2004) |
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| CONTENTS |
MY JOURNEY OF SADNESS - STAN HAGON |
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My wife and I were of the same age and we managed to enjoy nearly fifty years of happiness, until we reached the age of 75 years This is where my journey of sadness seemed to begin. I first noticed that my wife did not seem to understand exactly what I said to her and this progressed to her saying, "I don't know what you're talking about." She also found it difficult to manage the everyday chores she had performed all her life. Conversation was becoming difficult and she was finding it a problem to read and understand what she was reading. This was to me a danger signal and I approached our GP to see what, if anything could be done to help. I was told the symptoms were "short term memory loss" and there was no medication for this condition. This devastated me as I saw nothing but stress and a steady loss of companionship in the future. Things worsened as any show of attention was being rebuffed and shortly a fear was showing in her eyes, as if I was an evil man who wanted to harm her. This came to a head when one day, in a short burst of reason, she said quite calmly, "I don't really know who you are." |
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This reduced me to tears as I realised that I no longer had a loving wife as she had gone forever and we were strangers. I therefore had to adopt a position of brother and sister. I told myself that I now had a very dear friend, whom I had known for many years, who needed help and that it was my duty to see that I did all I could to make life for her as comfortable as possible. I approached my GP again and he seemed to have a yardstick to apply when "memory loss" was no longer appropriate. "How old are you, Mrs Hagon?" he enquired, and when he got no answer my wife was referred to a psychiatric doctor. The diagnosis was quick and final, my wife was well on the way to dementia and her condition would steadily worsen. I felt this was the end of the world. We were allocated a Community Psychiatric Nurse (CPN) who was able to help and advised us of the possible future needs. She told me that I would need breaks from continuing care and worked out a program for my wife to attend a day care centre at Sutton Hospital. I was also allocated two-week breaks when my wife would be resident on a ward, again at Sutton Hospital, so that I could rest from daily nursing, a bit like a holiday. Some two years before she died my wife became double incontinent and this made life almost intolerable. She was completely dependent on others as her memory had gone and daily hygiene was a nightmare of trying to cope with acts of uncleanliness, of which she had no idea of what was happening and no control of her actions. District nurses then helped me to facilitate a supply of pads and panties so that I could do what I could to help my wife in her distress. This was a very degrading situation and I felt very sad that I was trying to help a person who possibly hated me. But I felt it was my duty and soldiered on. It was in early May 2002 that I felt the end was near. She went off for a two week stay in hospital and I had a strange feeling that she would not be coming home again. I visited her during this time and could see her deteriorating rapidly. At the end of the two weeks the staff found she could not stand up and it was decided she could not come home. She stayed in the ward but could not support herself and could not take food. She finally became bed ridden and after a few days closed her eyes for the last time. Her heart was beating but there was no pulse, thus no blood circulation.
Finally, the doctor diagnosed a brain haemorrhage and that it was only a matter of time. I sat with her for some 48 hours, watching her breathing slowly fading. She stopped breathing at 9 o'clock p.m. on 21st May 2002. I kissed her goodbye and left the hospital. It was undoubtedly a release for both of us as there was no quality of life left for her and I was near collapse. Thus ended my journey of sadness. I must pay tribute to all the staff at Downs Day Hospital and Malvern Ward, as without their dedicated support I would not have managed to survive.
June 2004
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One Carer’s Story - Barry Tebb Schizophrenia - A Carer’s Journal - Mike Schizophrenia – A Mother’s Story – Georgina Wakefield My Journey Of Sadness – Stan Hagon The Voice Of Carers – Amanda Cummin Yemeni Carers’ Stories – Debjani Chaterjee Beyond Our Reach, But Not Our Love – Brian D’arcy Carry On Caring – Emily Machin & Lucy Machin Enigma And Other Poems - Georgina Wakefield Killingbeck Drive – Brenda Williams Searching The Beyond And Other Poems – Daisy Abey Sharp Edge – Daisy Abey The Long Good Bye – Barry Tebb Looking Back – Barry Tebb Nameless In Camden – Brenda Williams Autobiography – Simon Jenner The Sick Image Of My Father Fades – John Horder Are You A Carer? Caring About Carers
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