Tuesday, July 30th, 2013
I am, you might recall from the previous posting in this particular series, someone to whom nice things ought to happen, but I maintain that there's precious little chance of that, as proven by the telephone call I received from my sister at about 10 o'clock this morning explaining that there had been a leak from the flat above mum's and that there was significant damage that was now in the process (at least) of being dealt with.
Sigh...
It could have been worse, I suppose...
Wednesday, July 31st, 2013
With that all in the process of being sorted out, my sister then deals with the arrival of a plumber to sort out some of the oft-ignored problems of mum's flat, and takes mum out on a afternoon's short excursion to the hairdresser's which is all very lovely for them, but which, of course, she has the time and the opportunity to do on week days when she's in the area. I, meanwhile, now anticipate many comments of the "If your sister were here she'd do these things" variety, but that's my burden to bear as I suppose I must...
So, after work on Wednesday, I swing by the care home via the supermarket and make another visit which all goes rather well. Mum is on her best behaviour and, because it is the three of us talking, nobody manages to get frustrated or irate. Most of the conversation is about future plans and whatever recent achievements have been done to make that more possible, so it does turn into a bit of a practicality session (or perhaps a "council of war"...?) which is sensible if not very entertaining.
Still, there's always "Sparkles" for that, which seems to have gone well, and mum is, at least, managing to be more aware of the far greater problems that some of her fellow inmates actually are living with. Meanwhile, I hand mum one of my "book lights" to hopefully aid with her reading in her gloomy and electric socket-free room, which does, at least, prove that I am occasionally capable of thinking about her.
My sister is still heading homewards tomorrow (urk!), but plans to return briefly next week to supervise the decorator at the flat. The ongoing problem with this "Studio" online card company and their financial fleecing of my mother ably assisted by the "Data Protection Act" remains ongoing, but we've had to defer dealing with that because of mum's "can't be bothered" factor, but, all-in-all, most things have been dealt with by the practical whirlwind which my sister can be whenever she's around.
We depart and regroup at the flat so that I can see the damage for myself and inspect the plumber's work which all looks fine. My sister is thinking of asking for further decorating quotes, but i think that we'll just have to see how much that is required.
After that, with a few more bits and pieces of practical to-ing and fro-ing to be worked out between us, her visit is all but over bar tomorrow's long drive, and we bid our farewells in the driving rain whilst standing at the back door of the flats and I head back out into the traffic...
Thursday, August 1st, 2013 ("White Rabbits!")
Another day without a visit, although i do get 'progress' texts from my sister as she travels back down south, so that I am aware that she is safely home at about 2.15PM and heading off for an afternoon nap.
Not that it helps because mum still rings me in a bit of a tizzy whilst I'm having a bath because none of the three messages that were left seem to have actually reached her.
Ah well... At least returning her call gave her a chance to successfully answer her mobile phone "for the first time..."
Not that it helps because mum still rings me in a bit of a tizzy whilst I'm having a bath because none of the three messages that were left seem to have actually reached her.
Ah well... At least returning her call gave her a chance to successfully answer her mobile phone "for the first time..."
Friday, August 2nd, 2013
And so the depressing cycle begins all over again.
On another hot, sticky day, I reluctantly swing by the care home after work whilst really not wanting to and knowing that this really, really isn't something I want to have to be dealing with. I know that this is wicked of me, but I've really just had enough and it's getting harder and harder for me to hide it, especially in the absence of my sister who's just far better at dealing with mother than I ever will be.
Mum's in the dining room so, after letting her know I've arrived, I go and wait in her room and flick through a scary old copy of "Cheshire Life" whilst waiting for an audience and thinking that I ought to have brought along my radio so that I could continue to listen to the test match.
When she arrives it's a bit of a miserable visit, to be honest - a long list of things which are making her unhappy and about which I can do very little. The mobile phone is "too complicated"; The meals are "awful" and "not enough" (especially for "the men" who I noticed that she sits with in the dining room, the old floozy); Her drugs have run out and the replacements don't arrive; Another nightdress has gone missing.
That last is an issue that she's particularly reluctant to let go, even though I suspect that they've been incinerated as a health hazard. Meanwhile she's already telling the powers that be that I will be able to fetch her and take her home whenever the time comes, forgetting that I'm at work all day unlike my sister was. She doesn't think that they'll let her go home, however, until the flat is sorted. When I point out that this will only be next Wednesday, that little fact seems to get blanked out. This is also evident when, having decided between them that there's no reason for me to visit at weekends, I'm handed the phone to charge the batteries and it's casually mentioned that I could just "pop in" with it... which is, of course, a two hour round trip...
Ah well, at least she's getting visitors most of whom are unknown to me but about whom she thinks I must be fascinated... and she's still able to criticise those of her friends who are in similar circumstances to herself for not being prepared to put the effort in.
I head homewards, once again thoroughly miserable about having to deal with any of this. At 7.00 PM I get home and find that Social Services rang me there at 11:17AM and asked me to call them back, so, given office hours, that won't be happening until at least Monday...
They've rung me at work before, so I don't know what's happening there...
Another friend of mum's rings later, wondering if mum would appreciate it if she took around some strawberries and cream from the "strawberry tea" they're having tomorrow.
I'm sure she would.
I wonder if I can get mum adopted...?
And so the depressing cycle begins all over again.
On another hot, sticky day, I reluctantly swing by the care home after work whilst really not wanting to and knowing that this really, really isn't something I want to have to be dealing with. I know that this is wicked of me, but I've really just had enough and it's getting harder and harder for me to hide it, especially in the absence of my sister who's just far better at dealing with mother than I ever will be.
Mum's in the dining room so, after letting her know I've arrived, I go and wait in her room and flick through a scary old copy of "Cheshire Life" whilst waiting for an audience and thinking that I ought to have brought along my radio so that I could continue to listen to the test match.
When she arrives it's a bit of a miserable visit, to be honest - a long list of things which are making her unhappy and about which I can do very little. The mobile phone is "too complicated"; The meals are "awful" and "not enough" (especially for "the men" who I noticed that she sits with in the dining room, the old floozy); Her drugs have run out and the replacements don't arrive; Another nightdress has gone missing.
That last is an issue that she's particularly reluctant to let go, even though I suspect that they've been incinerated as a health hazard. Meanwhile she's already telling the powers that be that I will be able to fetch her and take her home whenever the time comes, forgetting that I'm at work all day unlike my sister was. She doesn't think that they'll let her go home, however, until the flat is sorted. When I point out that this will only be next Wednesday, that little fact seems to get blanked out. This is also evident when, having decided between them that there's no reason for me to visit at weekends, I'm handed the phone to charge the batteries and it's casually mentioned that I could just "pop in" with it... which is, of course, a two hour round trip...
Ah well, at least she's getting visitors most of whom are unknown to me but about whom she thinks I must be fascinated... and she's still able to criticise those of her friends who are in similar circumstances to herself for not being prepared to put the effort in.
I head homewards, once again thoroughly miserable about having to deal with any of this. At 7.00 PM I get home and find that Social Services rang me there at 11:17AM and asked me to call them back, so, given office hours, that won't be happening until at least Monday...
They've rung me at work before, so I don't know what's happening there...
Another friend of mum's rings later, wondering if mum would appreciate it if she took around some strawberries and cream from the "strawberry tea" they're having tomorrow.
I'm sure she would.
I wonder if I can get mum adopted...?
The word "Sparkles" sends a shiver down my spine... adopted? Well you can try.
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