In the summer of '06, when my grandma broke her arm, and we moved in with her to help her out and make sure she did her PT. She'd had very mild dementia for a while, years and years, but that summer, with the arm, and she'd just lost her husband...you could just SEE it getting worse, and it was like, wow, writing on the wall: when we leave (to go live in our own house again), she's going to need way more help. And it really hurt, because my grandma had always been so independant...if she'd lost that because of the arm, it would have been bad, but this was just so much worse: we had to watch as she got more and more confused, and made more and more mistakes, and it was like "When is she going to mess up something that could be dangerous?"

If I had to pick one moment, though, it would be that fall, when my mom (who'd been laid off a few months before my grandpa died, in late '05) started talking about how we'd be able to go home soon, and she could go back to looking for work. And I found myself laughing cynically and saying "You can't go back to work. Grandma needs you too much, and she's getting worse, not better (meaning her dementia, not the arm)." My mom didn't believe me then, but it was really the first time I confronted it, and then she admitted it a while later.

Missy, this is a really good topic: it made me think a lot, and I'm looking forward to reading other people's responses, also. Even though everyone's different, it's nice sometimes, to know that you're not alone, that other people have had similar experiences within their own, totally different overall experience.

Interesting question - For me it was at the beginning of last year.

My Mum was diagnosed with breast cancer, then a week later Dad was rushed into hospital with a suspected heart attack. Mum, already knocked sideways by her diagnosis, fell to pieces and I completely became the mother. Soon after that, Dad came out of hospital and Mum went in and although Dad took the brunt of the physical care following her release; we both became medical 'specialists' and I became counsellor for both.

It's been strange; being the 'go to' person suddenly. (needless to say two older brothers have been nowhere to be seen - but that's another (bitter) story). Both parents are recovering well at the moment thankfully.

The most interestingt hing for me is Mum's emotional recovery - she was doing okay, but didn't seem to really perk up until I started having health problems - she was able to revert to mothering me; and it boosted her no end!

Lola

It's hard to remember a time when I didn't take care of Mom, in some way.  One big "Uh, Oh" moment  was a short time after I was first  married, around 1991.  I went to visit  her and found more than a week's worth of her real dishes(not paper) dirty, in the sink.  1). She only  used the real  dishes on Sundays when she ate waffles and 2). there were maggots at the bottom of the pile of  dishes in the sink.  Mom never varied her routine, always paper plates, except on Sunday for waffles.

The next huge "Uh, Oh!" was having to move Mom out of the Assisted Living Center she was in, because she now needed more care than they gave.  My brother had moved Mom out of her home-town to a center near him.  I think he felt it was time  he took care of  Mom for awhile.  But  we ended up having to more here back to her home-town.  My husband and I had moved into her house to clean it out and get it ready to sell.  Now Mom was going to have to live with us until we decided what  was best  for her.   That first few weeks were some of the roughest of my life.

I would have to say one evening when I heard some banging in my mom’s apartment and she repeatedly asked me if I had seen her twin brother Bub who had been deceased for at least twelve years. It was as scary moment to see because there was a very different look in her eyes, almost possession. I called my relatives to ask their thoughts and impute but it was brushed off as nothing, it was then I knew that I had a difficult journey ahead of me, and it would mainly be me alone.

Bless Your Spirit!

-RevYarb

When my Dad peed on my couch and didn't seem to care.

I believe it was the time when the Neurologist said the dreaded word"Dementia". Although, my wife had problems earlier( she had gotten fired from her position in 2001), we never really knew why and it took a lot of tests to nail the problem.  It was then I knew that I had lost my mate, my best friend and that our relationship was changing. I didn't have a helpmate any longer, but was in charge of a person who depended on me even more than in the past. I believe I went through a depression before I grew up and accepted the fact.

It was while we were on vacation with my parents and one day, my mom, standing in the kitchen, repeated herself about three times in the span of just a few minutes. She had never shown any signs of forgetfulness or any other health problems. But there it was. I remember thinking, "Oh, s***. Could this be the first sign of Alzheimer's?" That was three years ago, and within a year the forgetfulness became more and more common. Now she seems headed for the middle stage of Alzheimer's.

I'll never forget that day.

Nearly  a year ago, I began helping my 47 year old, younger sister  (my only sibling), with her divorce and foreclosure on her home.  Up until that point, we didn't really spend alot of time together---they were both "to themselves---homebodies", who didn't really interact with too many people, including me.  She has multiple health problems:  seizure disorder, fibromyalgia, developmentally delayed, bipolar, confusion and increasing memory problems.  It was assumed that her husband and she had "everything" under control, medically-speaking, and that she was in charge of organizing her medications.  

As I sat with her and watched her put her meds together one night, she was shaking and dropping her pills, trying to recount which ones she needed to take.  I thought, "Oh my God!"  The questions were flying out my mouth......do you have a schedule written down somewhere?----NO;  How do you know which ones to take?----I just do!  I immediately wrote down what she thought the schedule was and compared it with the doctor's office!  Then I began watching her organize the meds more carefully and discovered that she was taking too much Ativan---a controlled drug, plus several of her meds were not being taken at the correct times, causing her to go into seizures.  I began organizing her meds from that point on and still do, a year later!  In addition to organizing her meds, I became her P. O. A. and also organize her finances!  The longer I spend time with her, the more I realize that she needs more help than I can give her.  I've searched for AFC homes that might be a better placement, but most are for young children/teens or the elderly!  Recently, I've been thinking of opening an Adult Foster Care family  home for disabled young women.  If anyone has any information in that respect, I could use the help!  Thanks!