Only IIIIIII get an Opinion on this!

Okay, so Wednesday morning came...time for us to take Daddy to THE only place that would even consider letting him in their facility.
I told Daddy that we were going to a place that would be able to take better care of him, etc., etc., and he was in total agreement. I KNEW his calm response would be temporary.
By the time we got there, he was freaking out. He started crying and begging us to promise him that we would be coming back for him. He told the Nurse that "the only thing they (we) have a problem with is that I can't sleep but I can't help it, but there's NOTHING wrong with me".
Sigh. Poor Daddy. Damn Lewy.
I had to leave the room several times to not start crying.
He was getting pretty agitated and wanted to go to lunch and to get some gum...he says gum calms him down. We'd confiscated his gum at our house after he kept chewing it while laying down (and falling asleep with it in his mouth) and then he'd spit it on the carpet. We still haven't been able to get all the gum cut out.
So we went to lunch. He wanted a burger and pineapple coconut shake...which means Dairy Queen. He was agitated the whole time. When he was done eating, he wanted to go wash his hands and we offered him some napkins first to get the majority of the mess off before we took him to the sink, but he started yelling that we "wouldn't even take him to the bathroom because we think he's going to try to run off".
Sheeeesh. As if he could really get away even if he wanted to. Even at his highest speeds, his shuffle is easy to catch. We ignored his responses and focused on distracting the kids from his bad behavior. I think my kids are going to need counseling.
Anyway, so hubby gets Daddy all washed up and then I ran into Walmart across the street and got him several packs of gum, and we took him back, got him settled into his new room, and went home.
The place had assured me that they understood his condition completely, not to worry, etc., and I looked forward to some sleep that night. I was out like a light early, dead asleep, when...
Uh, no.
At about 9:50-something, the facility calls. Just seeing the number on the caller ID stressed me out. They were calling because I had written down that Daddy was born in 1934 and he was arguing with them that he was born in 1939.
They were calling to settle an argument with a Dementia resident about their birthday?
I was dumbfounded.
I called the Admin. the next day and told them what happened and they were equally as shocked and assured me that would never happen again.
Uh, yeah...so the second night at 8 pm, I get another call.
This time it's the Nurse that doesn't speak very good english and she is IRATE. Daddy was arguing with them about pretty much everything and being combative...swinging at them. He was absolutely confused as to where he was, etc. I could hear him yelling in the background. But the Nurse was yelling just as loud and telling me I needed to come there RIGHT THEN to either give him pills to calm him down or take him home with me because he was being kicked out.
Needless to say I was a little upset. Of the almost 40 places I called, this place was the only one that would take him...and they were kicking him out on the second day?
REALLY long story short, about 5 calls with the irate Nurse later and at around midnight, it was decided that Daddy was staying, at least for that night. The psych-ward behavioral center that she was trying to get him into for evaluation said they wouldn't take him because the 'policy' is that a facility must have the resident for at least a week before shipping them off (yes! finally someone ELSE is being turned down!)...and because Daddy has no insurance.
I called my brother to tell him what was happening and to ask him if he's going to have a problem with Daddy being institutionalized...because I am NOT about to go on another hunt for facilities. I have spent the last 3+ years of my life taking care of my Dad and I am beyond exhausted. I am ready now for the State to have conservatorship. I can not and will not make these decisions anymore...and I can just assume that brother doesn't want this responsibility either. He doesn't. Who really does? This is a nightmare.
I took the phone off the hook. But I did not sleep that night.
The next morning I was up early. I finally put the phone back on the hook at 6:54 AM. 3 minutes later the facility called me.
This Nurse tells me she's "been trying to get a hold of Roy's daughter..." because Daddy had fallen during the fiasco last night and scraped both knees.
They were trying to call me for hours, PRIOR to 6 am, to tell me this.
This Nurse also tells me that she doesn't think their place is the "right" place for my Dad.
I ignore her comment and say nothing because I was trying to get dressed...
I was getting dressed and ready...finally attempting to get out of my house with my daughter to visit a friend who lives out of town a couple of hours south. Some resemblance of a life? What normal people do? Wow!!!!!! Could it really be?
Nope.
What I really ended up doing was fielding call after call on my cell phone about what's going to happen to my Dad. I got a message from my brother that he had indeed made a call to someone at the facility...someone named Matt...and the message really ANNOYED me because he said Matt said they'd "handled everything" the previous night. Uh, NO, they DID NOT "handle it", or I wouldn't have had to calm the NURSE down on the 5 calls I spoke with her. And they wouldn't have been threatening to kick Daddy out or telling me that IIII needed to come there and calm him down, give him pills, or take him home. AND they wouldn't have been trying to call me ALL NIGHT to tell me about scraped knees...if they were "handling things".
I talked to the guy Matt (who ended up being the head of Nurse's) that my brother talked to and told him about the message he left me in regard to THEIR conversation. Then I filled him in about what REALLY happened the night before...because apparently none of his Nurse's told him what they told ME, of course. They hadn't told him that they said my Dad was being kicked out. They didn't tell him that they were YELLING at me. They didn't tell him that they told ME to drive 40 minutes to give my Dad meds or take him HOME.
After all was said and done, Matt profusely apologized and assured me that it wouldn't happen again...that there would be a meeting to discuss the fact that it is NORMAL for residents to 'flip out' and take some time to adjust to new surroundings...AND for them to get on a medication that will allow them to be calm. He said that he was embarrassed that his Nurse's had done what they did, because the are all fully trained and capable enough to have taken care of the problem without calling me. He said they were clearly just looking for what was easy for THEM (thank you!). He also said that the irate Nurse that had called me wouldn't be calling me again...he said that he'd noticed she wasn't the best at handling incidents such as the one with my Dad.
I felt better. But to be honest...even though this head of Nurse's was definitely intelligent and calm and seemed to have all the right answers and knowledge to take care of my Dad...unfortunately he can't be everywhere at all times. He was apparently on duty when the fiasco happened and he had no idea because no one came to him. Clearly not all the Nurses are like him. I wish.
So, I have some things to decide. I can't just hope that this Matt is going to be able to change things. He said he'd JUST come to this facility two weeks ago, so he's new and trying really hard to make it better. But I can't count on that. I know from experience that the very BEST of intentions doesn't necessarily mean success...or that they will stop calling me every night.
And I can't be threatened with my Dad being kicked out anymore, it's too traumatic. I am now accepting the fact that I cannot do this. I won't. I can't disrupt my kids lives anymore. I can't disrupt MY life anymore. I can't make all my Dad's decisions and be running around scatter-brained, too tired to even know what I'm doing if it's not on a written LIST, and not spending time with my own family because my Dad is having yet another crisis. My body is tired, sick and weak.
And so the next phone call I made was to my Dad's VA doctor who had FINALLY called me back that afternoon (after 3 weeks of no response). She said she was on vacation and apologized...but I know for a fact that she's been back for two weeks because her nurse told me so. But whatever, it's not like confronting her about that would get me anywhere.
She wants to send my Dad to the VA Geropsychiatric facility (did I spell that right?). The same one that was a nightmare...the one that made him a ward of the state and told me to leave him, to forget about him. I discussed conservatorship with her and she was in full agreement that that might be the wisest decision...to have someone else, not me, be appointed "the responsible party" for my Dad. She has seen ME for pretty much every visit she's had with my Dad. She knows that I am the one in the driver's seat and that I have not been well and that I have two small children to consider. She explained the whole conservatorship process to me, and I am going to think long and hard about it...although I don't think there's anything to think about really. Someone else (not in our family) would be appointed to make all my Dad's decisions. THEY would find an appropriate facility...and would probably have a lot more pull to get him in to a suitable place than I would...unlike my time-wasting calls-a-plenty to places that shut me down cold. We would still be able to visit and give input...but the conservator would make any final decisions...and would be the one to get the harrassing phone calls.
If thsi happened, I would possibly be able to get rested, spend time with my kids for once, actually see a friend or two more than once every 6 months, get well, and stop TWITCHING.
Sounds pretty good to me.
So I have some things to think about...and NO ONE gets to have an opinion BUT ME.
I may ask for someone's input, because that's how I am. I want family/Doctors to be involved despite the fact that I know they won't actually HELP...but I want the input so that I can weigh the pros and cons and TRICK MYSELF into thinking I'm really not making all the decisions on my own, which is the reality. So, I can ask for all the opinions I want, but in the end...no one has the right to get mad at the fact that I may not even consider your opinion because IIIII have been the one here, living this. I've been knee-deep in phone calls, paperwork, legal fees and meetings, banking hell, people treating me like a ditzy idiot because I "look too young" to be dealing with this, touring facility after facility, Depends undergarments, doing paperwork to move my Dad IN to facility after facility, doing paperwork to move my Dad OUT of facility after facility, asshole Doctors, asshole bankers, asshole Social workers, nutball psychiatrists....seriously...I could do a whole blog about all the rude, inconsiderate people along this path...but I get the final say on what happens next.
No backseat driver's allowed, so run along.