t'was the night before Christmas....

....and the plan was:

1. hit the ground running Wednesday morning
2. wrap Christmas presents
3. visit mum, get her to eat some lunch
4. go home and clean up the little bedroom for beloved son
5. hoover and tidy right through
6. go round to a friend's to celebrate her birthday
7. back to mum's, shower and wash her hair ready for Christmas Day dinner tomorrow
8. return home to greet beloved son's arrival
9. chill

....and the reality was:

1. gave up trying to sleep through wheezing and coughing and got up at daft o'clock
2. Christmassy paper, sellotape, nowt fancy
3. mum in bed, wouldn't eat but had a cup of tea. Opened and liked (!) her Christmas presents (a large bottle of Tia Maria, a box of Thornton's chocolates and a National Geographic calendar - she didn't like the wildlife one I got her last year, too many ugly animals)
4. made a start on spare room but didn't get to
5. or
6. because mum phoned to say she was coughing blood. Phoned the NHS helpline before leaping into the car and gave as much info as I could but they wanted me at mum's to answer more questions. Christmas Eve traffic aargh!
7. gave mum's symptoms and medical history and was advised I should take her to A&E as it could be either a chest infection or, much more seriously, a pulmonary embolism. Didn't mention the last bit to mum, I could hardly pronounce it anyway. Got mum dressed, drove to hospital and after interminable waits between booking in, seeing a nurse, seeing a doctor, getting an x-ray and seeing the doctor for the results, we were told that there didn't appear to be anything obviously wrong with her lungs. Antibiotics were handed over and back we went to mum's with the instruction to contact her GP to make an outpatient's appointment at the hospital for further investigation. Did I mention that she told me she had coughed up blood clots just this afternoon but admitted to the doctor that it had been going on for two days??!! She hates hospitals - she spent a long and horrid time in a few during the war undergoing primitive treatment for TB and her local hospital, the one we never seem to be away from, is the same hospital in which dad died. She dreads having to be admitted again. Its only a year since she was last in for a month, after a stroke. Long story short, she seemed brighter once home again. I have promised to go round tomorrow morning to help her shower and wash her hair before we join the rest of the family for Christmas Day dinner.
8. Now this is a good one. As if all the above weren't enough stress for one day, beloved son phones on the morning to say he's getting a lift home from a friend and will arrive around 7pm. Then he phones to say that at short notice, his employer wants him on call for Boxing Day, ie a two and a half hour drive away, even though he had long since arranged to do a 48 hour shift over New Year so that he could have Christmas at home with us. Then he phones to say he will have to stay in Nottingham as the whole thing is just impossible. He is angry and tearful. I try to find comforting things to say. Then he phones to say that his boss has sorted things out and he can come home and stay until the 27th! He still gets his lift back but with all the stress, forgets to bring his Christmas presents with him. lol. bless.
9. Have sort of chilled now. Tomorrow the madness starts again.

PS Am I a horrid person for not stopping with mum tonight? I feel guilty now. Seems like I'm always piggy in the middle...

mum<--------m_e__e___e____e-------->husband, son & daughter