Held Hostage

The day after the last post my father told us he changed his mind and he wasn't going into Assisted Living, thank you very much.  He could, he said, take care of himself.  
Over the holiday weekend he fell four times.  911 was called twice.  
At this point my sister is so upset that she can't talk about it anymore.  Yesterday I had an uncharacteristic meltdown over something so minor that I scared myself.  The challenges to our strength and patience seem overwhelming right now.
My dad has always been a difficult person.  One of the things that is the most frustrating to me is his lack of compromise over any issue.  It always has to be his way and he would gladly cut off all contact with me than to do things any differently than the way he wants to do them. To date he's turned down every option we presented to him. He won't move in with either of us.  No to moving closer to either my sister or myself (I live 3 1/2 hours away; my sister lives over an hour from him).  He won't have anyone come in the house to help out. And now he refuses to move to an assisted living complex.  A place where he can have his own apartment with patio right outside his door, a full kitchen and an accessible bathroom. 
I guess we could turn away until he changes his mind.  But left on his own he doesn't eat and falls all the time.  I feel as if we are being held hostage emotionally.