My mother used to always say when I was young that she would rather be dead than go into a home when she was old. It seemed perfectly reasonable. But guess what? She got to 79, developed severe dementia, and my poor old dad who was also in his 80s and in poor health just couldn't cope with her at home. She had carers call in twice a day to wash her, but that was about it. All day long she struggled to try to "escape" from the house, which she was sure was full of strangers plotting to harm her. She threw drinks and food across the room, was constantly distressed and doubly incontinent. In the night she got out of bed and wandered all over the house, used the corner of the bedroom carpet as a toilet.did all sorts of dangerous things, so my dad could never get any sleep. My husband and I had a very small house, no spare room, and worked, couldn't possibly have coped with her if we tried to look after her. In fact, we nearly went out of our minds running back and forth trying to help out with her multiple times a day. In the end there was no choice but a care home. She barely knew the difference when she was moved there, and we told her she was on holiday. Within a very short time she stopped recognising any of her close family and needed feeding by spoon. She did not even know we were there when we visited, just stared ahead and mumbled to herself. It was a terrible time, and truly a relief when a sudden stroke took her. My poor dear old mum. It was a situation she never would have wanted, but there was no choice, for any of us. And for the time she was there, she was well cared for. Now my husband and I are getting older, we have told each other and our daughter that if the time comes and one of us is in a bad way and it's impacting on the quality of our loved ones' lives, don't struggle too much or hesitate to get us into a (decent) care home.