As we enter week nine of the saga of my mother’s hospitalisation, I’m sure those of you who “follow” these things are as heartily fed up of reading them as I am at having to write them. They do, however, serve a useful purpose in organising my thoughts, so I’m going to continue on with them as we head towards whatever outcome we eventually reach.
We left off with my sister’s imminent departure after a sterling two and a half weeks away from home and mum seeming a lot better than she has in a while, which just goes to show how much difference the simple things like a good night’s sleep can actually make…
JAN 19 2011
Sis is heading home today. I go to the flat first thing and on my way to the dentist’s to get mum’s keys back and have a brief council of war. The farewells were understandably apparently a bit “weepy” last night, but things with mum’s situation are still much improved from when sis first arrived.
Mum rings for a lunchtime chat and we mull over her options and fears about her own prospects for heading home.
The evening visit is chatty, but for me, the lack of my sister’s presence, doing all those little things she did so well, is a slight worry. Mum and I chat at length (when not drowned out by the six visitors – the notice outside the ward insists on two – at a nearby bed) about looking to the future. Ah well, at least the fruit flavoured Tic Tacs* she asked me to bring are well received, (as she can actually taste the strong flavours) and it’s nice to see mum enthusing over any foodstuff these days, although I do fret when I notice the sugar content, because I really thought that they were sugar-free. (*Other sweets are of course available.)
JAN 20 2011
Already shattered when I wake up today, and sis has only been gone a day. Mum rings 10.00AM-ish convinced that it’s a Monday and I wouldn’t be in (neither of which are good assumptions to make), although there’s no reason I wouldn’t be or why she would want to ring me if she thought I was out. Both of these things tend to have me (and no doubt the GMF who’s now probably got a couple of hundred messages on his phone for daring to go out) wondering whether today’s confusion is a sign of some sort of regression.
However, a lunchtime call to tell me how nice the Tic Tacs are is almost instantly cut off at her end…
Battling through thick fog for the evening visit and another stilted hour, although mum is generally looking a lot better and starting to take an interest again, asking for television privileges once more after nearly a fortnight of not being bothered. Of course setting up the TV again becomes an almighty tricky thing to do as the bed is still set up for the wrong patient, but we manage eventually. All this really does show the value of how simple things like a good night’s sleep and controlling the fluid retention problem can really make a huge difference to someone’s well-being. The social services assessment didn’t happen again today, but the idea of six weeks of respite care seems to have become more of an appealing prospect.
JAN 21 2011
An early morning call around 8.00AM from mum is slightly confusing, but, considering she had woken up coughing at 4.00AM, this shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. I mention the beloved’s suggestion that mum starts to list the things she thinks she may need if the respite care option comes into play, as, at least, it will give her something to think about.
During another confused phone call at lunchtime asking for a new supply of tissues, I manage to also glean the information that the Doctor sees her being sent home Monday or Tuesday (Tuesday being MASSIVELY inconvenient for me professionally…) and with no mention at all of the respite care that was, as far as I was concerned, high on the agenda. No mention of social services assessment either, so it seriously looks like everything’s going to pot again.
Evening visit is massively frustrating as I try to get some information about the ‘plan’ they might have for mum, and the insanity of trying to get any answers at all, after waiting for everyone else in the world to be dealt with as more of a priority (which does seem to have been a pattern) and then trying to get my concerns across as the now very familiar party line of “medically fit to be released” gets spouted again. When I point out that last time they did that, mum was back there in an ambulance five days later, this doesn’t seem to matter, and is a symptom of the general lack of concern for any specific issues that I am constantly feeling. Respite care now doesn’t seem to be on the table any more, experimental removal overnight of the catheter is a prospect that deeply concerns mum, who thinks that she won’t get a good night’s sleep because of it, and all-in-all, all that I have achieved is to leave her feeling agitated and confused and worried.
Well done me.
Head home, thoroughly frustrated and ring sis to rant for an hour.
JAN 22 2011
Got up early and drove to my mum’s flat where the beloved and I spend the day decorating. The dark paint on the hallway walls is not good for her getting about the place, so I’ve taken it upon myself to try and brighten it up, but with the sudden prospect of her being home as early as Monday, it all has to be done this weekend. Mum only rings twice to see how things are coming along.
Home to a slight (but massively irritating) work problem I have no time to deal with this weekend.
Wearily drove to the hospital for a visit. I’m asked about the decorating, but mum just “hopes it’s not a waste of my time”. Mum is starting to get depressed again and I can’t help but feel that she always seems to get worse on “my watch”. She makes some demands of a nurse for additional cough linctus, but the supply is restricted due to its medicinal content. At least it would appear that someone has apparently been to examine her about the mysteriously returning and awful sounding cough. After bloating up on the experimental day off the catheter, it has been reattached, seemingly now looking like it might prove to be a permanent fixture.
Time and again mum is telling me she can’t see herself ever getting home. Time and again she says she wants to know what they’ve decided to do with her. She does it seems accept that a short stay in respite care might not be the worst thing to try. Time and again I try to tell her not to worry and that she has to remain as charming as she can and not worry, that things will unfold at their own pace etc. I talk again about trying to engage her brain by reading etc., but her interest seems to be waning again.
How she’s going to eat seems to be her main concern about going home. The GMF has “helpfully” suggested that she’ll never be able to cook for herself (although I suspect his emphasis was different to mum’s retelling of it). I tell her that things like that have to be taken a day at a time once she’s home. “Today I’ll try to make myself a sandwich, the next day cheese on toast” and so on, but I’m not sure she’s getting it. We actually have big plans (well, plans anyway) in place to solve the food issue as and when she gets home, but again it’s difficult to get her to see beyond the issue of the initial problem.
Drove home exhausted, but the look I was given at suggesting that I might not go tomorrow – it depends how day two of the decorating progresses - means that I'm ultimately unlikely to allow myself that option.
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