HOSPITAL UPDATES W/C 300613 (PART TWO)

Thursday, July 4th, 2013

Not that I was planning to, but a telephone message from mum's former work colleague telling me that she's planning to visit mum today, means that I don't actually have to, and that I can instead drag my weary carcass through another working day without having to face dragging myself to the hospital in the evening or even having to think all that much about the place during the day.

At least, that's the plan and, amazingly, that's what actually happens.

Friday, July 5th, 2013

I'm already shattered as the day begins, so that, as I head towards the hospital again at the end of a hot, sticky day, my mind can only think that thought that never bodes well on the harmony front: "I don't want to go!"

I had set off early, planning to pop into the supermarket on the way because we needed a few bits and pieces of food for the weekend, and I'd finally capitulated to mother's demands for packets of crisps and realised that her Rich Tea biscuit supply needed restocking. These, along with a copy of the local newspaper, I shoved into her bag of washed and dried clothes and, running a few minutes late because of the supermarket, I pulled into the hospital car park at about five past the start of visiting hours.

I was delayed yet again by the technical shortcomings of the parking pay stations, having to walk to find a functioning machine and then having to wait for the bloke who was far too lazy to walk to pull up in his car and rattle through an entire pocketful of change in order to find coins that the machine would actually accept, and so it was gone ten past when I finally got onto the ward, having already waved at the anorexic and her father as they sat in their car allowing her to escape for a smoke.

The duty nurse was eager to stop me as I arrived to tell me about mum's "makeover" because she'd had her hair washed today and her face plucked at "Salon d'Adrian", and this was the hot topic, repeated to me several times, as I entered the hot, noisy, sticky bedlam that the ward seemed to be on that Friday evening.

There was a certain amount of chaos from a woman who was obviously one of those people who exasperates. She was currently exasperating the staff, and my mother's exasperation would also increase as the hour progressed because, despite my advice that she should try to ignore it and focus on her own visitors, I am sternly told "I don't ignore people and their problems" (although she does have a tendency to pontificate from her pillows...)

When prompted, I get tales of her two visitors yesterday, the woman from the church and the former work colleague, neither of which knew each other but who both overlapped slightly. I'm also told that mum has been for a walk "to reception", there's talk of her going home again (an improvement upon Wednesday's "They never talk about me going home" I point out), that the Magnesium levels are a lot better and that mum's been feeling very dozy. She's also "not spoken" to my sister for "a few days" but I don't find out what's happened to trigger that particular falling out of favour.

I ask whether she'd heard anything about the Diamond Wedding Party that she missed, which prompts some happier thoughts. She received a slice of cake (creating a sea of raisins on the floor I'm told...) and a couple of cards which pleased her and which I am shown. It transpires that mum was even mentioned in the speech which also pleased her, but leads to the inevitable history of that family and a long, long list of their achievements, none of which me or my sister have ever had any hope of living up to.

As tends to happen with these situations and people, the entire focus of the ward seems to revolve around the troubled woman and her constant need for attention after the exasperated nurse had "fallen out" with her over some incident with some flowers.

Flowers, and the activities which surround them, it seems, are the real troublemakers in that environment...

Saturday, July 6th, 2013

Another day off, this time, at least, in the sunshine.