Hello Tildes,

My partner and I are at the point where we need to get more care for my dad and I could use some advice from people who have been down this road. He's in his early nineties and still living in his home, and the family has been lucky in many respects. Dad still has good cognitive function, he has excellent health care through his military retirement (USA: Tricare for Life). My brother is living in the family home, so there's someone in the house overnight in case there's a fall or other serious issue.

Last year we got Dad set up with a medical alert service, so he's only one button press away from talking to a helper if he's in crisis. My partner and I are down visiting him about once a week to help with chores and hang out. Same with my other brother. We've been holding things together.

But Dad's having difficulty with normal life stuff (walking, bathing, eating) and he's transitioning into a bedbound state, losing weight and eating very little. He seems fairly comfortable, just extremely tired and increasingly frail.

To be clear, I'm not asking for medical advice. Where I'm stuck is: How do we initiate and navigate the process of getting him a home health aide? His medical team was entirely unhelpful when we asked about case management. They say "if he's struggling, bring him to the ER" but he absolutely does not want to go to the ER, and we're loathe to force him at his age unless he's in crisis. Also, the ER is full of people with the flu right now.

We've reached the "we can't put this off any longer" moment, I think. Any advice on getting the ball rolling would be appreciated. Do we just randomly call up home health agencies? How do we figure out what his insurance will and won't cover?

Thanks so much.

GP

Without going into details, my partner's parent is sick with an unknown prognosis (1-5 years; 1 year has passed). I admire how they've come to support their parent and have tried to both be supportive and keep myself busy so my partner could focus. Still, it's created a lot of distance for me. Where I see the future as exciting and exploratory for us, for my partner, they imagine their family in shambles and their favorite person gone. With the uncertain prognosis and the aftermath, it's hard to imagine that really changing for the foreseeable future.

I am looking for insight from people who have been in similar situations. Perhaps it's the sort of ridiculousness of how selfish this is or sounds, but I don't know if I've ever heard much about how this affects romantic relationships.

Apologies if this comes off as rambly or even entitled. Also for the title, didn't quite know what to put there.

So firstly some context. I live in an Asian country where it's normal AND expected to live with your family past 20. Housing is expensive, and you're really only expected to move out once you're married. Also, I'm 21M.

I really enjoy expressing myself with things more traditionally associated with femininity, like makeup, nail polish and fem clothing sometimes (side note, definitely don't think I'm trans).

But as they say, god gives the gayest children to the most homophobic parents. My parents have told me multiple times that if I was gay I'd be kicked out of the house. My dad for some reason follows American politics (and by that I mean right wing grifters) despite having no link whatsoever to America. In fact, I think he'd be hatecrime'd if he went there. So yea I'm inclined to believe their homophobia.

One incident in particular which made me genuinely angry was when I bought something pink and I was sat down and talked to like I commited some crime.

Anyway, that's all just to say how do I keep up this balancing act? I do my nail polish then sneak out the door. Before I come back, I remove it somewhere quiet. I feel like a fugitive, and it's so damn exhausting. I want to express myself. But it's not the end of the world if I don't (I feel somewhat entitled that I'm even asking this when LGBTQ+ people in some places of the world are in actual danger).

If I tell my parents, I don't think they would accept me. And worse, I might get kicked out - they'd probably think I'm gay.

Being kicked out would be terrible. Renting is still prohibitively expensive for me, I'd have to get a full time job and effectively stop my studies. I don't think I'd be able to survive in this country like that, where it's expected for you to have a degree.

Eventually I'd like to move to another country where I'd be more accepted, but that's years down the line and I don't even know where to start with that. Do I just keep my head down and just be satisfied with the status quo?

Thanks for reading, any input would be appreciated.

Trigger Warnings: parent death, pet death, drowning

Recently my mom passed away in a river accident.
She had brought her service dog (a German Shepherd) with her on a rafting trip with friends. From witness testimony, her raft got caught in some trees and as she was trying to detangle herself, her dog got spooked, and jumped into the river. My mom was tied to the dog, and they ended up drowning. They found both their bodies hours later.

I’m still reeling, and I’m in shock. It’s almost early morning and I still can’t get to sleep. I live in a different country and I need to head back to deal with her affairs. She was a single mother, so it’s up to me to figure things out. I have a lot of support, but it still feels so overwhelming.

I specifically would like any advice on how to deal with the “accident” part of her death. It would be one thing if she had died peacefully in her home. But the reason I can’t sleep is because my brain won’t stop trying to imagine what it must have been like in her final moments. The fear, the struggle, her body washing ashore and just sitting somewhere for hours until they could find her. How she must look like now. I will request they cremate her, the police pretty much recommended I don’t do a final look because of how she died. But the morbid curiosity is just there. I don’t know how to shut it off. I know she wouldn’t have wanted me to ruminate over it, but it’s almost like I’m getting the PTSD on her behalf.

I’m also so angry. Angry at her for thinking it would be safe to bring her dog on a raft. Angry at her for tying herself to said dog. But I realize this is more like “denial/bargaining”. My brain keeps making these angry scenarios where I’m yelling at her not to be so stupid. What would possess her to do something like this? But of course that’s just another part of grief.

I’m rambling, it’s late. (Or rather early?) I’m just really sad and tired. Any words would be appreciated.