Just too much for me.

This morning was always going to be difficult. Two issues. Firstly, I had to care for my dad myself as those wonderful carers would not be coming through the door. Secondly, we are having work done so a strange new man or men would be entering our house and will be busy here for a few days. That is a huge struggle for me for so many reasons, some of which I have previously written about. So I was already on my nerves. Plus, I only had about four hours sleep. Not a good start to the day.

My anxiety levels were through the roof. Fortunately my husband was home for the morning so he could be on hand to assist. I was trying to clean and tidy the kitchen for the workmen but I also had to help dad. My way of dealing with him is in small doses, with the back door wide open so I can escape into the garden for a minute or two of fresh air.

We had trouble with his catheter night bag last night, so he needed to change the day bag this morning. I do not wish to be around that happening but he needed help weaving the strap in and out of the new day bag so I had to help. I disappeared into the garden for a breath of fresh air. He called me back and harshly moaned at me for doing something wrong. I did not know what he was talking about as I had not even touched that pipework.

Suddenly, my helpful genie, aka my husband magically appeared at the bedside. I was so relieved. I told dad that he would deal with the problem as I could not see as I did not have my glasses on. The issue being I really did not want to be there or see certain parts of my father's anatomy. So I made my escape back outside. This time the tears were pouring out of my eyes and I let them flow. Came back inside to hear my father irately calling me to please come and help him. I was glad I could not see his face that time. I know exactly how his face would have been; all twisted and angry.

My husband took one look at my face and gathered me in his arms. I was safe being tightly held by him. He turned to go and help my dad again as I was in no state. I continued cleaning the kitchen with my tears flowing. I could not stop. But then my dad needed help dressing so shouted for me once again. It has to be me. I wiped the tears away and took a deep breath. Fortunately, my dad looks at me but he does not see, so I knew he would not realise I had been crying. My Mum always used to tell me not to let him see me cry because that would enforce his power. But I have noticed, that he does not actually notice what is going on anyway.

I tried to help him get dressed but he is in his own tumultuous state of needing and asking for help but then not letting me help him. So he pushes my hands away when I am trying to do his buttons up or he holds on tightly to his watch when I am trying to put it on his wrist. He does that with everyone, not just me I have recently realised. Eventually, he was dressed and ready for his breakfast. He had decided not to have a wash this morning. I have a feeling it is due to the fact he thought I was not in a helpful mood. But maybe not. We will see what he does tomorrow morning.

The workman arrived, I stayed out of the way so my husband welcomed him. I heard them chatting and thought he sounds like a nice man who would not shame or belittle me in my own home as so many other workmen have done. So I put on a brave face and went to greet him. I will be okay with him being in my home for a few days as he seems respectful and considerate. What a relief.

As for the old man in the front room, he could learn a lot from our visitor.