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Pee on it?
Throw the ladder into a lake.
Break the ladder so that they don’t have a ladder to get onto. Easy.
You could also throw it onto the roof if it’s too good of a ladder to break properly.
I was my grandmother’s primary caretaker for her end of life years. She had a bad case of dementia and would regularly try to do things that were obviously dangerous to her. Our medical system is shit, so I had virtually no help, no resources, and no training. I studied up as best I could, and this was my progression into insanity:
First, I tried convincing – making up whatever lie I could to make it seem like doing X thing would not result in the outcome she wanted, and trying to redirect the conversation into something she else. This didn’t work because she was both stubborn and forgetful. No point in spending 30 minutes to convince somebody of something that they won’t remember in 30 seconds.
Second, I tried removing – anything that was dangerous to her was taken out of the house, or locked away where she couldn’t access it. This sort of worked, but you can’t simply remove a gas range from the kitchen and reinstall it for every meal, and hell, even something as simple as a paperclip can be dangerous.
Third, I tried motion sensors and video cameras. I hooked up a massive home-automation suite, and went to town with automation rules. Anytime that woman so much as lifted a finger, I fuckin knew about it. This was probably the best solution, but it was incredibly draining. Think newborn-parent, except instead of getting better and learning with time, the infant only grows more unruly and difficult. Sleep? good fucking luck.
Lastly, I resorted to restraints. It was awful, and violated nearly every moral rule I had, but it was either strap her down, or watch her stick her hand into the in-sink erator, or go for a jog down a staircase.
It was 3 excruciating years of caring for a hallucinating toddler stuck in a fragile body, in a world she didn’t understand, and worse, my family thought that my attempts to get legal custody over her decisions were “power plays”, so I watched as family siphoned away all of her and her husband’s savings while she lived in squalor.
**Let me tell you my conclusion.**
I got nothing from doing this. I thought it was the “right” thing to do, but here I am a few years later and all I can think is that I extended and exacerbated this woman’s suffering. I played this ridiculous game of trying to keep a suicidal brain-dead vegetable alive, because I thought that all life was precious and I loved her.
The truth is, her life was not precious. Or well, the last 3-4 years of it certainly weren’t. She was in a constant state of panic and mental agony, and it all distilled down to rest on my shoulders. I made no good memories, I struggled with depression, gained weight, and grew isolated from my friends who (understandably) didn’t want to hang out with a guy who had to babysit and change the diapers of a 97yo woman on the regular.
I saved that woman’s life on a daily basis over those 3 years, and now that I look back, I wish I had just let nature take it’s course. It took her 3 agonizing years to die, it could have taken 2 seconds had I just turned my back for a moment.
Clearly can tell who didn’t read the post whatsoever after the title.
I had a similar situation with my great grandmother who raised me and I was asked by family to come home (from out of state) and watch her for a few weeks to allow my grandparents a vacation.
Worked a hella stressful job and went to school full time.
Besides that I knew I could t daily watch her in her current state and mentally since she was so important to my formative years I knew I would lose my cool. Besides struggling with my own mental health
Also of course other family said they would stop by to help and such but I knew that wasn’t going to happen.
I was super fearful of all the things you’re describing as she had already turned on the stove and walked away, threw things, called the black mailman horrible names.
She (eventually) ended up in a lock down dementia ward. It was hard on my grandparents to make that decision but I knew I wouldn’t survive in a care taker role.
I commend you for your large heart. I’m sorry about family. People suck and at that point I may have been one of them back then. I still regret not trying when asked.
You seem like the type of person that would have the same conundrum. Damned if you do or damned if you don’t.
The best we can do is all we can do, sometimes a no is also out of self preservation (my family are mostly vampires that have way more money and resources and just make it other peoples emergency when they don’t feel like doing things—I mean other circumstances).
So the best you can do is to cut yourself some slack and know you made a decision by weighing your heart and your brain and no one else should be able to make you feel awful about it.
Sorry for your loss.
Take the ladder away.
Metaphorically or literally?
Vaseline on the rungs
If it was one of my parents I’d just say “Fine! Go ahead. Just don’t come crying to me when you break your neck”; which is something I must have heard a million times growing up.
Get rid of the ladder