Mum Friday

I drag myself to work, exhausted, and beloved son promises to visit mum on the afternoon before returning to Nottingham. (He also did the evening visit yesterday by which time mum had forgotten I'd ever been with her and was furious with me.) He spends an hour with her and tries to put a good word in for me as she is still fixated on the conspiracy theory. He says he managed to get her to laugh so I'm hoping she'll be in a better mood when I go at 6. Pah.

"Will you take me home? I want to go home NOW. Why can't you take me home? I hate it here! You had this all planned. You could take me home if you wanted to. If you loved me you'd take me home." Over and over I explain why she is in hospital - for tests to find out why she is falling and to get her better so she can go home. A bit disingenuous of me, but not so far from the truth. (She has had blood tests and scans today.) She doesn't believe me and doesn't understand why she is there. "Why do you keep going on about falling? (She doesn't seem to remember yesterday's fall or that I stayed with her all day, apparently I just "dumped" her there.) Did Mr Lily put you up to this? Your dad would be furious if he could see me now. He would look after me, the difference was he loved me. I've no-one to turn to, nobody cares, everyone else has loving families who visit..." I try to reassure her that its the doctor who made the decision about keeping her in but she thinks I orchestrated everything and could discharge her without consultation; the agitation continues for over an hour. She tells me beloved son is the only one who cares/listens to her, "he's the best one". She has taken against lovely daughter because she had praised the old folks' home she used to work in - further proof of the conspiracy theory.

At some point I realise she thinks she's in a care home because her ward only has rather poorly old ladies in it, "left here to die". I show her the 'Welcome to James Cook University Hospital' booklet by her bed. I think she begins to believe me. I try to encourage her to eat more and get her strength up, explaining that weakness could be a factor in her falling. She tells me the food is awful and she's too worried and upset to eat. She says "when you have children, you hope they'll be like you, but you're not." I laugh and say no, I'm quite cheerful.

Finally I get her to drink some Sprite lemonade and she puts on her glasses to read the Gazette I brought her, along with a couple of magazines, clean nightie, socks and slippers, toothbrush etc. The last ten minutes are relatively smooth going, she seems to have cheered up a bit. I promise to visit again on Saturday.