XC

Mum is 90 today. Beloved son is coming up from Nottingham and we're going to meet lovely daughter at the home at tea-time. I hope she has a good day today - when LD and I visited on Monday, the care staff said they'd put on a party for her and I've arranged for a huge bouquet to be delivered. Mum is starting to settle better - she's eating properly!!! and joining the other residents in the lounge, she hasn't spit out her medication or kicked anyone recently lol and takes herself off to her room after meals for a nap. She has stopped blaming me for putting her in the home and seems to think it was her decision, although she still says that she'll go home when 'they' say she can. On Monday night she even asked the carer for help getting ready for bed which suggests she's feeling more comfortable with her new surroundings. She does look frail though and her memory is getting worse and worse. I've decided not to tell her missing relatives have died any more, its too upsetting for her, I'll just feign ignorance and suggest they'll be visiting soon.

Despite the break from daily visiting (twice a week now), getting my weekends back and the comfort of knowing she's never on her own, the whole situation is still stressing me out subconsciously - this week I've woken Mr Lily a few times, shouting out or crying in my sleep - unusual for me, I can't always remember why. I am tired all the time still and will be glad when the power of attorney thing is sorted. Roll on the cruise!

Bleary eyed

I'm really tired so just a quick update. Lovely daughter and I went to see mum last night but she was already in bed and asleep when we arrived. We had a long chat with the staff who told us that although she's generally very quiet and just tootles up and down the corridors all day and spends time with other residents in the lounge, she won't eat with them so they have to leave finger foods in her room for her. She's also been rather naughty - she has been spitting out her tablets, said to one of the carers "look at the size of you, you're fat aren't you!" and on another occasion kicked and hit out at a member of staff!

I left this photo of mum's mother on her chair with a note saying we'd visited. The picture is larger and clearer than the old faded (only) one she has, so I'm hoping she likes it.

deep breaths

Mum was in a grumpy mood today. She was not pleased to see me and refused to talk to the solicitor about power of attorney. We're going to wait a couple of weeks to see whether she mellows, if not its going to cost an arm and a leg to take it to court.

this blog in a nutshell

Thanks to Greg for the link to Wordle. (You need to click on the picture to see it in all it's glory.)

the post I wrote on Saturday

I phoned mum's nurse on Friday morning to express my concerns. She assured me that mum was taking most of her medication and getting a good night's sleep. She had refused painkillers and the anti-nausea tablet which explains why she told me she was feeling sickly on Thursday. It seems likely that the cause of her 'exhaustion' was joining in the painting activities, making Halloween decorations. However, her food and drink intake is a major concern so the nurse will be calling in the dietician. She thinks mum needs lots of TLC to settle into the home so has asked the carers to spend as much time as possible with her. I hope it has an effect.

I was up early this morning but went back to bed after an hour or so and didn't get up again until after 4pm! I needed the rest and as a result have nearly finished Mr Lily's books! Just a little tweaking tomorrow and they're ready for the accountant.

I have ripped the multi-coloured mohair circular cardigan I was knitting. I was frogging as much as I knitted, such was my inability to concentrate over the last few months, and I decided I didn't like it after all. I think I'll start on a jumper for my son next, hopefully in time for Christmas, or if not, in time for his birthday in February.

Maybe Logan's Run had the right idea

Mum was just as angry tonight but distressed too. Why was I doing this to her, I was just a parrot for repeating that the doctor had said she needed to be in a care home, she wished she'd had a bigger family then she might have had a good one, her mother/my father would be horrified if they knew what I'd done, why couldn't I take her home and leave her there, she would write to her aunt who would understand - "Auntie N died a long time ago" - I say that about everyone.

The care staff told me she was refusing medication and hardly eating, her eyelids were red as though she'd not slept/been crying. She said she'd had an exhausting day but wouldn't tell me what she'd been doing (and I forgot to ask the staff). I made her a cup of tea and she joined me in the dining room/kitchen to drink it and continue berating me. Another resident came in and sat quietly with us so I made her a cup of tea too, hoping that her company would have a beneficial effect on mum. It didn't. Mum said she didn't want to see me again. She accosted the ward manager in her office to complain about her situation and didn't believe her either when she told mum that it was the doctor, not I, that had insisted on her going into care because she couldn't look after herself at home.

I gave the manager the family tree I'd put together for reminiscence sessions and an appointment for mum at the memory clinic and left, feeling very low. I hope mum's GP was right about the 6 weeks acceptance point. In the meantime I'm not optimistic about Monday's visit with the solicitor.

New beginnings

The move was confirmed for Monday so I spent the last day of my sick leave dashing to and fro - first to a friend's to use her tumble drier for mum's last load of washing then to the hospital to drop off mum's discharge clothes - she would be leaving some time after 2pm. Next to the nursing home with all mum's bits and pieces to make her room seem familiar and homely. Her clothes, shoes, photographs,letters and towels went into the wardrobe; one of her paintings and one of dad's went up on the wall; her cut glass dressing table set and photos of the grandchildren on the chest of drawers next to the bed; tissues, underwear, tights, hats, scarves and gloves in the drawers; a silk flower arrangement, her crinoline lady toilet roll cover, makeup, perfume, flannel, towel, shampoo, toothbrush and toothpaste went into the en-suite; small ornaments on the window sill and zimmer frame by the bed. I also swapped the home's bed linen for her own quilt cover and matching pillow case. I realised more space was needed for the other family photos she used to have on display at home and for her calendar clock and favourite books so I dashed up to the bungalow (about 2 miles away) and brought back the bedside table that dad made. Then it was back to my friend's for a late lunch and moral support and to collect the dry washing before some last minute errands in town.

By this time, around 4pm, I was feeling very nervous about the prospect of facing mum at the home and decided to wait until lovely daughter finished work so we could go together. We took a 'good luck in your new home' card and a box of chocolate liqueurs. Mum was in her room, sitting in a high-backed chair like Queen Victoria on her throne. She was not amused. She berated me and LD for the terrible thing we'd done to her - putting her into "a mental home", she was fearless in her fury - asking the care staff at her door what they were whispering about and why people were "grinning" at each other. We spent a very long time trying to explain the benefits of being in the home but she did not want to be persuaded. I could just forget about her now, I needn't visit again, she wouldn't stay there, she would leave her money to someone who cared. The nurse who had assessed mum in the hospital said she couldn't believe the transformation from canny little old lady to battleaxe but she was very good humoured and well used to letting insults fly over her head. She gave me a 'living will' form to complete on mum's behalf (aargh!)and promised to arrange a hairdresser's appointment for mum and for the optician and audiologist to visit her (hopefully to provide a better quality hearing aid).

Back to work on Tuesday after 5 weeks off. I telephoned the home on the morning to check how mum had been, expecting to hear she had been restless and was sulking in her room. The nurse told me mum had slept right through the night, had joined other residents in the dining room for breakfast and was last seen in the lounge! My feet left the ground as the mum-shaped millstone hurtled heavenwards from my shoulders. Maybe it was going to be alright after all! On the afternoon I bent the chaplain's ear over the uncomfortable issue of the living will, especially the bit about 'if my heart stops, I do/not wish to be resuscitated'. We had a long talk which eased my mind a little.

On Wednesday lunchtime I went to see our solicitor to discuss lasting power of attourney for mum's medical care and property. Still very confused about what it all means but the solicitor was very reassuring. We are going to meet at the home on Monday morning to talk to mum about it. Apparently, he has to ask her about her end of life wishes, so that will make it easier for me to complete the home's form. I just hope mum is in a good mood when we go, if her consent can not be obtained, I'm facing a long and even more expensive court process.

I'm going to visit mum on my own tonight. Which may explain why I'm up blogging at daft o'clock again.