HOSPITAL UPDATES W/C 020613 (PART TWO)

Wednesday, June 5th, 2013

Mum's former work colleague visits her during the afternoon. At least that's what I'm told is going to happen. Other than that I have a day without hearing anything and no messages from the hospital. You might think that this is unfeeling of me, but you'll have to believe me when I tell you that it was an absolute necessity after yesterday's experiences...

Thursday, June 6th, 2013

The early morning brings a flap about mum's "missing" keys, which I've been keeping in order to be able to get her mail. Apparently last night they "turned the place over" lookig for them, although one simple phone call would have sorted it...

Hmmm...

I have a bonus night off because one of mum's friends had told me of her intention to visit today so that I wouldn't have to. This causes some confusion when I fail to turn up, and I get the inevitable telephone call asking about where I am, although that comes as something of a surprise as my recent visits haven't bee the most thrilling or successful things either of us have ever done.

Mum has been returned to a side ward because the staff are concerned that her continuing stomach problems are due to an infection (although if they'd only look at her records they might realise what's going on is pretty much the usual routine...) and they don't want anyone else to be catching it...

Mum's friend had brought her some cards and stamps so that she can write a few notes to one or two of her other friends, which should be considered to be a very positive sign indeed.

Friday, June 7th, 2013

A phone call from my sister informs me that there's been another "telling off" by a "rude" nurse (telling her that she's capable of doing far more - like closing her own curtains in the side ward - than she actually does) and that mum is unhappy to be on the side ward after telling me that she was fine with it last night. This, of course, is the bipolar world we now seem destined to tolerate, although my suspicions that nobody is looking at the "bigger picture" with my mother's digestive system, and instead everyone is just "fire-fighting" persists.

And so the evening rolls around after a fraught week at work, and I find myself back in the old routine of rolling into the car park after two "free" nights off. After I've parked, I listen to the end of "The Now Show" whilst getting scowled at by the person making a meal of getting into the parking spot next to me.

I arrive at the bedside and ask what's been going on to which I get the enigmatic reply, "A lot but not a lot..." which is interesting. "The incident with the buzzer", about which I had previously been unaware, was because the alarm call switch in the side ward had been broken, but mum had been "told off" for constantly using it, even when she hadn't.

It's fixed now, apparently...

Mum had made the most of her time alone to watch some TV and write a few cards which is progress of a sort, I suppose, and ought to be applauded.

"The incident with the keys" had been because a confused woman in the next bed had thought that mum's locker was her own and raided it, handing out mum's precious supply of biscuits to all and sundry, which hadn't gone down too well, but which prompted a long and rather tetchy discussion about diet and eating healthily which will not sink in at all, I expect, much as it hasn't done for years.

My theory that "you get out what you put in" and that fatty and sugary rubbish like biscuits is probably not the wisest thing to be eating when your stomach's a bit "off" is interpreted as me wanting to take all the fun out of mum's life instead of trying to make suggestions which might actually improve it...

Somewhere in all this, perhaps around the "But I don't like broccoli" moment, I told her to stop acting like a "petulant child" (yes, I did actually use those words) which didn't go down too well... but she can't half sulk that one, especially if you say something she doesn't like hearing, or don't do something she thinks that you ought to do...

Sigh...

Rather ironically, an anorexic friend from one of the beds on the ward mum had previously been on chose to pop her head around the door to say "hello" whilst we were having the great big food discussion, and, as I was finally escaping leaving with the words "Everybody thinks I'm wonderful except for you..." ringing in my ears, a nurse buttonholed me to explain the whole side ward situation and why they were leaving her there for the time being even though the tests for infection had been negative (unless the bed was urgently needed) to reduce the disruption to mum's life.

Saturday, June 8th, 2013

Well, another week's gone by and mum's still in hospital.

I've got to the point where I think things might be better if I visited even less often than I currently do, because all I seem to do is end up bickering with her. Unfortunately, such an act of inaction would probably just bring even more criticism whenever I did eventually turn up, so my "win" situation is almost certainly to be a "lose-lose" one if I try it out.

Meanwhile my (relatively) quiet day at home is interrupted (at about the time of the conclusion of the England/Australia match...), by a telephone call about "The Incident with the Purse" because it appears that, along with the biscuits, the "confused lady" seems to have also acquired mum's purse, in so far as it is "missing" and the various telephone calls fail to help track it down...

Just another damned thing to deal with when, quite frankly, I'd rather just not have to...