Please read my story and thank you

Hello. My father passed away in July 2023. Before my father passed, we had discussed that my mom would have to come live with me. She was not to live alone. Mom had mild dementia at the time.The night my father passed, Mom came with me and stayed with me for 2.5 years. During the first year, she was no longer able to cook or do the things she used to do, but we followed a very strict routine. The second year became rougher, but I continued to maintain that strict routine. The last four months she was in my care, her behaviors started to change. She began refusing medication. She wasn’t eating much. She needed help with everything — and I’m sure you know what I mean when I say that.There were many nights when we were awake while she did dementia-related behaviors. I only got angry with her one time. I knew it was the disease, and I truly did my very best to have as much patience as I could.It eventually became too much for my health. I was having constant diarrhea. My ears were ringing. My heart was racing. I was on full alert pretty much 24/7 with very little sleep. I ended up having a mental breakdown. My mother is my best friend. She always will be. But this disease took a huge toll on my system. I am also going through perimenopause, which made everything even harder.On January 2, my mother had a regular wellness visit, and my goal was to get her admitted to the hospital. I thought the hospital would work with me to get her into long-term care. Boy, was I wrong. My mother was told she needed to go to a geriatric psychiatric facility for an inpatient evaluation. She was never formally diagnosed with dementia — only by her regular doctor. She never had a brain scan. She was always scared to go, and although I made appointments for her in previous years, she would call and cancel them.Back to the emergency room story — they told me she needed an inpatient evaluation at a geriatric psychiatric facility. I had no idea what this meant, but I was willing to do whatever would get her help. They told me this facility would stabilize her on medication and then we could get her into long-term care. I thought, “Okay, great.”On the fourth day in the emergency room, I watched my mother decline far from her baseline. It broke my heart, but I still believed we were getting her help. On that same fourth day, the social workers told me she no longer needed the evaluation and that we could get her into a rehab or another facility. I didn’t understand and couldn’t believe it, but I thought it might be a good thing.We got her into a rehab facility — private pay, mind you. The rehab could not handle my mother. My brother and I had to go there and wheel her around while she yelled. I had to go there at 11:00 at night to give her medication. That same night, I collapsed from exhaustion inside the rehab facility. They repeatedly called us and told us that if we didn’t come up there, they would send my mother back to the emergency room.After six days of advocating and helping the rehab, my mother was sent back to the emergency room. This time, she had kidney damage. She was also refusing to eat and drink at the rehab facility. I understand they cannot force this. My mom was admitted to the hospital again. She also had a UTI at this time. They got her medically stable and then said she now needed the geriatric psychiatric inpatient evaluation — this time involuntary, meaning she had to go.My heart broke, but I thought maybe now she would finally be stabilized. Instead, she continued to decline. Mom only lasted six days there and ended up back in an emergency room an hour away from me. I was disgusted and heartbroken. So were my brother and my husband. I had been advocating for my mom for weeks, and this was the result? At that hospital, I finally met a very kind doctor who understood. He mentioned hospice, and I agreed. My mom had already been through rehab and a psychiatric facility and could not improve in either. At this point, I was told I had been caring for my mom at a very late stage and doing the job of three nurses — something I had no idea about at the time.I agreed to hospice because I did not want to see her yelling, suffering, and losing her dignity. My mom only lasted four days in hospice. It was her time. I am at peace with the decision I made, but I am still hurting — and it has only been one week today. Her services are tomorrow.Why am I still questioning things? I want to be completely at peace, but I continue to question myself and feel some guilt. I was told this is normal and part of the grieving process. I do have a therapist, and I do have support, but I am still looking for more. That is why I am sharing my story here.I am disgusted with the healthcare system, though I understand it is like this everywhere. I was hoping to connect with others who have gone through something similar. I look forward to your replies. Please understand that I am very sensitive and emotional right now. I could really use some warm wishes and reassurance that I did the right thing. Also, I want to add that mom did pass peacefully and I was there as she took her last breath and I wanted that more than anything.

God bless.