There seems to be some positive movement towards getting both parents admitted to a local nursing home. It is the #2 option, at least from previous conversations with my mom, those times she seems amenable to her going to a nursing home (usually as part of an attempted guilt trip), or having dad go and her visit. However option #2 for me is #1, as it's smaller, more personable, still has a good reputation.... and.. the medical director's office is within walking distance of the facility.. and she's a family member I went to HS and College with, so we can talk bluntly and easily. She actually listens.
The thought of packing them up, going from their house full of around 80 years of lives well lived, all the momentos, memorabilia, awards, photos and all the accoutramond of such a life, to a small room with two hospital beds, bathroom, small TV, mini-fridge and maybe a couple of electronic picture frames, to replace the walls full at home, is almost incapacitatingly guilt ridden. I am abandoning my parents when they need me most. I am putting myself before those who put me first for 50 years.
However, one person, right at 60 years old, simply cannot physically, mentally and emotionally care for two elderly, morbidly obese, bed-bound or soon to be bed bound, early dementia patients at the same time, 24/7, with inconsistent help from paid sitters. They are good, but they are human with their own families. Things happen, shifts get missed and without even an attempt from the agency for emergency fill-ins.
Then, there's the excitement. The thought of (in the voice of Dobby the House Elf).. DOBBY IS FREE! The thought of regaining the world of the living. Of being able to see friends, start projects with an expectation of actually getting to complete them rather than just another one abandoned.
It's like, being next up in line for the roller coaster you know will both excite you, and possibly cause the chili-dog to exit the same way it entered.