rapids ahead

Well I chose a great time to come off Prozac. I think mum is on her way out. Its nearly 4 am and I haven't the energy to think up a softer way of saying that. Sorry if it sounded too blunt. I've been feeling very unsettled since the care home phoned yesterday afternoon to tell me that they'd had to call the doctor out as mum had refused to eat or drink anything all weekend. She now weighs 4 stones 12 (68 pounds), has low blood pressure and is very wobbly on her feet, falling into things all the time. The doctor decided it would not be in mum's best interests to admit her to hospital, thank goodness - she hated being in hospital and it would only confuse her more to take her out of her now familiar surroundings. The doctor told the staff she thought the not eating and drinking was symptomatic of mum's increasing dementia so I guess its unlikely that things are going to improve much from now on. I tried phoning the doctor to get more information but couldn't get through.

I left work early last night and went to see mum. She'd been in bed all day. The carers were just making her comfortable when I arrived. She was awake but didn't seem to recognise me - she didn't speak, other than to say 'no' when I asked her if she'd like a chocolate, hoping to tempt her into eating something. The staff said she hadn't spoken all weekend. She soon closed her eyes and they stayed shut while I drank the cup of tea the staff had brought me. I couldn't tell whether she was asleep or just resting. I couldn't talk to her, I would have had to shout for her to hear me and it didn 't seem right when she looked so tired. Instead I stroked her hair and sat close by for a while. What happens next? Uncharted territory. Going back to bed now :-(

Saturday morning, just before dawning...

This itching is driving me mad! It starts to come on mid-evening and continues through to morning, often waking me up in the early hours, like today. Anti-histamines and moisturising cream only work sometimes, I'm going to have to ask my doctor for something else. Ah well, you win some, you lose some - 10 pounds in 7 weeks! I'm loving the Slimming World plan - really enjoying choosing and shopping for the week's meals then cooking fresh food every day. Mr Lily thinks its great too, he's lost 12 pounds so far. You'd think a healthier diet would help my skin, maybe I'm allergic to onions and garlic which feature heavily in most recipes, lol. I can get into a size smaller skirts and jeans now and the folks at work are always commenting on my weight loss and how well I look, although I think the latter is more in comparison with how worn out I was before mum went into the home. Coming off the Prozac seems to be going well, I'm now down to a tablet every other day and not experiencing any problems. In fact, I find I'm enjoying life more these days - I often sing 'I'm aitch-A-pee-pee-why, I'm-aitch-A-pee-pee-why' to myself at random moments, finding delight in the simplest of things.

Mum is still disappearing, both in size and from the real world. Lovely daughter and I took her a card, flowers and chocolates on Mother's Day, she enjoyed it but didn't seem to grasp what was going on, I'm not even sure she knows I'm her daughter any more but she does appreciate my going to see her every week. I'm a bit concerned that she might not be getting as much care in the home as I'd like - when we went on Mother's Day, we found her in the lounge without her teeth in and no cardigan - she's such a tiny scrap of a thing now and has always felt the cold. There doesn't seem to have been any progress in getting her a new hearing aid either - goodness only knows what happened to the old one. Communication at anything less than umpteen decibels is very difficult, she must miss out on so much. Still, she seems relatively settled there, she still says she wishes she could go 'home' but is placated by my telling her 'when you're better'. The Court of Protection application is getting there, just had to pay over £650 to the solicitor for various fees and the paperwork is now completed and on its way. Half of that was the charge for the 'failed' Lasting Power of Attorney attempt - the 2 hours the solicitor spent getting the papers together only to be dismissed by a stroppy mum when he visited her at the home.

I'm hoping this weekend will be productive - the Slimming World regime has inspired me to start growing my own food- I've bought a small greenhouse and am going to plant 12 different types of herbs and a wide selection of salad leaves tomorrow. We've also ordered blueberries, chillies, garlic, peppers and other stuff I can't remember from a seed company and will plant them out in pots in the garden once they've established in the greenhouse. I'm getting quite good at using the exercise bike whilst watching TV and this weekend hope to sort my bike out so that I can start cycling to work next week. I'm determined to reach my target of 8 stones 11 pounds by the time I go on holiday in August - that will mean I've lost 3 stones!

PS...I've beaten my Farmville addiction!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the news at 4

Well here I am at daft o'clock again, driven from my cosy bed by Mr Lily's fight with his sleep apnoea machine. What with his gurgling and gasping and its whooshing, it sounds like happy hour at the hippopotamus bar. In a moment or two I'll head on over to Farmville (definitely OCD, lol) but thought I'd better log the Incredible Shrinking Lilys' progress first. After a good start at Slimming World and slavishly following the plan, our third weigh-in was a big disappointment - we'd both put on half a pound! I found hunger between main meals was my problem, and went through tons of fruit to keep the pangs at bay. The next week I tried eating a bigger breakfast - the usual porridge and berries but also scrambled egg on toast. That and a 'light' cereal bar for mid-morning and mid-afternoon snacks seemed to leave me much more satisfied and on our fourth weigh-in last week, I'd lost two and half pounds and Mr Lily had lost three! I'm hoping for the same this week, then I'll have lost half a stone.

No change with mum but there is slow progress on the Court of Protection front. I finally managed to get all the financial information together and complete my part of the paperwork. The solicitor has written to mum's doctor for her report and to mum's bank with a copy of the first invoice from the home, asking them to pay it . I'm hopeful that things will get going now. Lovely daughter and I are going to see mum today and take her some toiletries and sweets. Dementia can be a blessing. Mum always used to say that if she couldn't keep herself clean, she wouldn't want to live. Thank goodness she's mostly oblivious to the fact that she often has 'accidents' now and needs someone to help her on and off the toilet. My turn last week - really, its just like caring for an elderly toddler a lot of the time. Sad.

I think our lovely dog may have dementia too, lol. She's nearly fifteen and still full of beans but now doesn't give us her usual signals for when she needs the loo, she tends just to look wistfully at us for a few seconds and then wander off. There have been quite a few 'accidents' (which Mr Lily side steps on account of his 'delicate' stomach, wuss). She's also becoming very 'wandersome' (a phrase I picked up when mum was in hospital) - I'm for ever having to get up to open doors for her as she does a circuit of the house and garden. We love her though and hope she stays with us for a few more years yet.

I've started to come off Prozac. My doctor advised I do it slowly so I've worked out a reduction chart for three months. Fingers crossed.

mum, and me

Mum first. Went to see her last week on my own, how brave was that! Silly but I do get very anxious about visiting her without moral support from lovely daughter - I suppose its the uncertainty of what I'll find, good mood, bad mood, no discernable mood at all. Anyway, it was fine. I found mum in the lounge with the other residents, holding hands with one of the carers! Great introduction - "is this your daughter?" (me - "yes") "eeh, you told me you didn't have any children!" Well, she thinks I'm her sister so in her mind, I suppose she's right. We stayed in the lounge for quite a bit. I was fascinated by the interactions between other residents. One old chap and one of the ladies seemed very fond of each other, they were quite physically affectionate in a tender, low key sort of way. Another lady was holding hands with a guy in a wheelchair, although I don't think he had much choice in the matter!

I persuaded mum to go with me to her room when she started her loud comments about the others - "you see him in the wheelchair? Well you have to be careful if you sit next to him, he strokes your face. He's a pest!...her over there, she's just dumb, poor thing.....I don't like that woman sat next to you at all.." I'd have gone to see her again last night but there's an outbreak of sickness and diarrhoea in the home and mum is one of the afflicted, so I was advised to wait a while. The doctor has seen her and she's doing ok, apparently he asked her to stick her tongue out and she said indignantly "I don't do that!"

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I have turned my attentions to giving Mr Lily some much needed TLC. (Its as though being relieved of constant mum duties, I've caring to spare!) Poor thing is not well at all - lots of back pain and tiredness. I've even started cooking properly again, to his amazement - instead of raiding the freezer for ready meals, I've made double quantities of chicken casserole, vegetable stew and bolognese and frozen my home made efforts for later. I've also rescued the unused breadmaker from the attic - we'd had it years and never opened the box! I am now addicted to making my own bread - probably not a great idea when trying to lose weight, but never mind, lol. Here's my efforts so far - clockwise from top right: wholemeal, granary, white, fennel and raisin - a successful experiment!
Of course there are still some little stress clouds on the horizon. The home is now asking for payment and sent me a contract to sign as guarantor of same, which I've had to tell them my solicitor has advised against signing until the Court of Protection application has been processed successfully. Speaking of which, its unlikely to be any time soon as my solicitor wants me to get updated information on mum's finances which will take a while, judging from the phone calls I made to various building societies today. And then there's the rather scary medication issue. My last prescription for Prozac came back with a note from the doctor who wants to review it before he issues any more. Aaargh! I mean, I don't want to stay on it for ever, it has been a great help and I feel much better, but how much of that is circumstances and how much the medication? I have forewarned my boss, just in case I start acting weird in the near future. Yes, alright then, weirder.

Ye gods, look at the time - 02:12! This is what happens when you're awake at midnight because Mr Lily's sleep apnoea machine is wheezing like an asthmatic walrus and then the dog scratches at the bedroom door to be let out and then you realise you need to take an anti-histamine because the nettle devils are making an appearance and then of course you need a cup of tea to speed up the soothing process and what's a girl to do to fill in the time all this takes?

The Daft O'Clock Chronicles, continued

Well here I am again, pounding the keys at nearly 2am, more because I don't want to go to bed than because I want to blog. I'm living a double life at the moment super-efficient, upbeat, unfaseable (is that how you spell it?) at work; distracted, obsessive, procrastinatory (!) at home. And when I'm not busy with some totally absorbing activity like knitting or xmas shopping (think I finished it today!) or playing Farmville (I know, sad), I'm sleeping for England (but not going to bed until I'm so tired I can't keep my eyes open any more). Anything to keep the sticky footed 'you put your mother in a home' devil on my shoulder from catching my attention.

Went to see mum on Wednesday - she wasn't in too bad a mood but still time travelling, mostly rooted in the past with long-gone relatives but occasionally visiting the present for brief moments. She introduced me to the other residents in the lounge as her sister yet she knows my name. I suppose its pointless trying to understand what's going on in her head, its probably as much of mystery to mum as it is to me. However, 'The 36 Hour Day' book has arrived so I'm hoping it will shed some light on the subject and give me some useful coping skills.

Tomorrow, sorry - today, the plan is to tidy up the house and get the christmas tree and decorations down from the loft. That's the plan ....

sad, so sad, sometimes she feels so sad.....

I visited mum last night after work. She was already in bed but not asleep. "I'm glad you've come" she said, "I have to get all this stuff packed up before I go home tomorrow". I offered to make her a cup of tea to change the subject and tempted her to eat two jaffa cake bars. Although mum didn't have a go at me this time, it was still an upsetting visit. So sad - she couldn't understand why her brother and sisters hadn't kept in touch with her, leaving her feeling abandoned and lonely. I didn't have the heart to tell her they were all dead, she would have forgotten within minutes anyway. She talked a lot about her "grumpy old" father who she thinks is still alive and living 'at home', she was bewildered by his apparent dislike of her. She commented "I suppose you'll be getting married soon" and was surprised to hear I already was, "I would have given you a nice wedding but I was in here" she said regretfully. (Mum and dad didn't come to my wedding 30 years ago - they didn't approve of Mr Lily.) She's contemplating getting married again, if she finds "the right one".

The staff tell me she has settled well and is eating reasonable amounts but they're monitoring her fluid intake as she's very resistant to drinking much at all. I'm going to take Mackeson and Sprite in on Thursday, to see whether she'll do better with her old favourites. They organised a second visit to the memory clinic and said she'd 'done well' but I'm not sure what they meant by that as mum is going to have a CT scan of her brain - they must suspect further deterioration. She does a lot of wandering about during the day so her ankles have swollen, she's had blood tests and depending on the results, I think they're going to alter her medication. I've asked them to take her to the hairdresser's today for a cut and perm, it will give her a boost.

Although I'm not as acutely stressed as I used to be, now that mum is safe and getting the care she needs, I'm still not functioning properly. I'm often up in the early hours, unable to sleep, and mostly feel a bit 'flat' which dulls the pleasure of socialising. I wish mum were happy. Then maybe I wouldn't feel so guilty.

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!

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.

itchy and scratchy

I was exhausted at work on Monday and went home on the afternoon to get some sleep before visiting mum. She was in a good mood - still looking forward to going home but fairly settled. The welcome change still didn't save me from the nettle devils later that night so again I was up until daft o'clock.

Tuesday saw yet another dying swan impression and I agreed with my line manager that I would take some time off on sick leave following Wednesday's appointment with my GP. It felt good to be rid of the pressure to keep on top of the mountain of work that was steadily engulfing me. I visited mum on the evening. She was morose, back to pleading with me to take her home - I could just shut her in a room, she'd be no trouble, she'd die in that place if she stayed there, and so on. Yet she seemed to have lost her spark, her voice was weak and she looked as though she had lost even more weight. I'm afraid that if she doesn't rally soon, she may not even make it to residential care.

I went to bed early, slathered in moisturiser, to stave off the nettle devils but they woke me up in the early hours. At least I'll be able to get more anti-histamines in six hours time.

no turning back

Didn't get much sleep at all last night so weary now and its only noon. I phoned mum's doctor this morning and brought her up to speed. She is coming to see mum at home, Wednesday lunchtime (I'll be there). She will also make a referral to the memory loss clinic after seeing her but doesn't think it will be much help. She agrees that mum is not safe to live on her own any more, a care home looks like the only option. On her advice, I ring the Social Services Access Team and go through the story again. They are sympathetic and will contact me once the case has been allocated, to arrange an appointment with mum.

I have debated not telling mum about all this until the last minute but its only because I'm not looking forward to her response. I think I'm going to have to bite the bullet and tell her tonight. Thank goodness lovely daughter is coming with me!

Later.....

Thanks for the advice Annie, Clippy and Chris ... but after work I had a message on my mobile from mum's neighbour saying that mum needed me to go round because she "wanted to get out of here"; as she seemed to be in quite a good mood and possibly receptive to the truth, I did tell mum everything tonight. At first she seemed impressed that I'd "been busy", later she said she wished I hadn't bothered, lol. I wrote it all down for her so she could take it in and even added a note to say that her GP and Social Services would probably advise her to go into a home to get the support she needed. I thought it best to prepare her. She did chunter at this and said she would phone her solicitor/refuse to go if it came to that but she was nowhere near as stroppy as the other night. No doubt outrage will surface soon but the deed is done and I'm glad I finally took action.

I've promised to go round Tuesday night to help her shower and wash her hair ready for the doctor's visit on Wednesday. Interesting times ahead!

Sunday

10:30 mum phones. Am I coming over? She needs help. No, I'll see her after work tomorrow. Variations on a theme, no specific problem articulated. She can't approach me, she will have to ask a neighbour.

13:00 Sunday lunch with friends - partly to escape the phone, partly to support a friend whose wife is dying of cancer. Mr Lily stays home to finish clearing out the kitchen.

16:00 return home. Mr Lily is grumpy - his efforts in the kitchen have aggravated his bad back. Feel guilty about not helping more. Mow the lawns to show willing.

18:30 mum's neighbour has left a message on the answerphone, can I ring her, problems with mum. I phone back, mum has lost her keys and is very anxious and confused. I tell the neighbour I will go over after I've picked lovely daughter up from the train station. Neighbour says she will pass the message on to mum.

20:20 collect LD and we both go to mum's. She hasn't lost her keys but has put them all in her purse. She says she can't get them to work in the locks. I demonstrate that there's nothing wrong with them. She accuses me of playing a trick on her with the keys, to convince her that she's going mad. I tell her she's just confused because her memory is bad. She doesn't believe me. I call on her neighbour to tell her how the keys work (you have to push the handle up before you turn the key to lock it) so that she can remind mum if she forgets again. She confirms my suspicions that mum has been sharing her consipiracy theories with her, ie I'm trying to make people think she's barmy and trying to steal money from her (yesterday's bank card fiasco). Neighbour sympathises with me and is relieved to hear that I intend phoning mum's doctor on Monday.

21:00 mum no longer makes an effort to be cheery granny in front of LD but continues to vent her paranoia. She says I don't have to go round if I don't want to, she'll manage without me. I tell her I'll see her after work on Monday (LD has promised to go with me, bless her). Mum says she needs to be around people. LD and I try to persuade her that a retirement (we really mean 'care') home will meet all her needs. She threatens me with her solicitor. I say its time to leave.

23:00 bed, need to get a good night's sleep as I have to take LD to work early Monday morning, to save her driving her dodgy car.

02:00 and here I am again, thanks to busy brain and snorry Mr Lily. Sigh.

huh?

I thought a man clearly called out my Sunday name just once at 7.20 this morning. It woke me up. At first I thought it was one of Mr Lily's friends trying to attract our attention. There was no-one there. The shout didn't fit with any dreaming I'd been doing. Weird. I often think things happen for a reason. Maybe I'm meant to be up early today, to be ready for something.

tether, end of

I got home from Mum's at 3.30 this morning. I tried a glass of brandy and rooting around on eBay to tire me out but I lasted about five minutes in bed before I was up again, weary but restless. This is my Sunday/Monday story....

Sunday morning, mum rings. She can't get her gas fire to come on and is worried that she'll have no hot water. I try to tell her that she doesn't need the fire on - its a lovely warm sunny day and that it has nothing to do with heating the water, the central heating does that. She is clearly angling for me to go over. I explain I can't, we're going out for lunch with friends, I'll see her on Monday. She says she can't hear me. She rings again, same old, same old. She rings again, she can't get the central heating to work. I tell her to look at the instructions I left her or ask a neighbour to help. She puts the phone down on me. That was the short version.

We go out to celebrate our friends' wedding anniversary. We return home late afternoon before going to the festival. The phone rings several times but no message is left on the answerphone. I do not answer, fearing more emotional blackmail.

We return from the festival at around 11pm. (The Proclaimers and the finale fireworks were awesome!) The phone rings. Its mum. She says she has been burgled. Oh the guilt. I go over with beloved son. She says she went to ask a neighbour to help with the central heating but did not lock the kitchen door behind her. When she came back, her wedding and engagement rings had gone and the keys to the house and garage. I am dubious, she does not seem quite as upset as I would have expected but a search does not find the missing items. I ask her where her purse is and check its usual resting place. It is not there. She says the burglar must have taken it. I phone the bank to cancel the visa card. The bank tells me that the pin has already been blocked, it looks as though someone has tried to use the card with an incorrect pin number, a stoke of luck given that mum has the pin number written on a piece of card in her purse. Yes, I know. Anyway, the bank cancels the card.

I phone the police and the locksmith. Before they arrive I dash home to get my bank card to pay the locksmith and collect BS's delightful new girlfriend. She tells me that BS has told her they will both stay with my mum overnight as the burglary has unsettled her. A huge relief as I thought I was going to have to do it. Mr Lily gives me £300 cash to save using my card. Meanwhile BS is trying to persuade mum that moving to the flat near me is a good idea. Arrive back at mum's to find a policeman already there. Gave him the details and agreed to arrange a proper statement interview later in the week, also a visit from the crime prevention unit. The locksmith arrives and fits new locks to the front, kitchen and lounge doors and fixes a padlock on the garage. The bill comes to £315.10.

I ask mum for the £300 I'd handed to her 20 minutes earlier. While she is looking for it, I give the locksmith £15.10. Mum is searching the house for the cash. We all help. Nowhere to be found. Where do you think you might have put it? we ask. Under the pillow, she replies. We look under the pillow. We do not find the £300. We do find her purse, complete with its original cash contents and bank card and house keys. She says she took her purse with her when she went to the neighbours but doesn't remember putting it under the pillow. I don't think you've been burgled, I tell her, trying to explain why. She is confused. I continue looking for the £300. I move some tissues on her bedside trolley. Underneath are her rings. I take them to her and lead her back to where I found them. She pleads ignorance. I tell her she definitely hasn't been burgled. I am beginning to wonder whether it has all been staged.

The £300 is still missing. I pay the locksmith with my bank card. He gives me my £15.10 back. I am slightly hysterical. For a few moments it seems hilariously funny that mum's non-existent burglary has resulted in an unnecessary 999 call and multiple lock changing. Slightly less amusing is the fact that Mr Lily and I have now paid £615.10 for a total waste of time and effort. Mum is fixating on paying me back Mr Lily's £300 using the money from her purse, about half the amount. It is 3am. I tell her we'll sort it out tomorrow. I don't fancy my chances explaining about the money, I get the feeling that if she finds the £300 cash and returns it, she will think she has cleared the debt. Ah well. Easy come, easy go.

Its 9 minutes past 5. Sigh. I'm beginning to think frog-marching mum to a retirement home is the only sensible option.

Well, I went back to bed, told the long-suffering Mr Lily the sorry tale. Then I was wide awake. So here I am again. Its 10 to 6. Uuurrgh

it's 4 in the morning and once more the snoring has woke up the blogger in me-e-e

Not to mention the nettle devils, so here I am again, anti-histamined and tea-d up. I'm feeling a bit odd at the moment. A faint undercurrent of anxiety and restlessness, no particular reason. I was up early yesterday morning as usual but just didn't feel well - tight chested, pressure on the back of my neck and over my heart; after a bit of knitting and TV I went back to bed and didn't get up until nearly 1pm, my first proper lie-in for ages. I can't believe it was due to forgetting to take my medication on Saturday but maybe my body is that sensitive. Last night I discovered my concentration must have slipped while knitting, I couldn't work out where I was in the pattern and had to pull out quite a few rows to get back to where I think I know where I am.

Mum finally decided to go to my aunt's funeral on Thursday after changing her mind three times. The service was dull but it was good to see the extended family again, especially my lovely cousin, his wife, son and daughter. (what relation are his children to me? Second cousins?) My cousin and his son are great huggers, I love that, makes me feel like I belong. It was interesting being able to put a face to people mum had told me about so many times in stories from the past. She was glad she went and I think she has mellowed somewhat towards my cousin.

We finally managed to find a new gardener for mum after getting a few estimates. He's coming to blitz the garden on Tuesday. I've taken the day off as I've also arranged for a woman to come round to mum's on Tuesday to demonstrate an amplified phone, I do hope it works for her, it will make life a lot easier, not to mention quieter at my end.

I had last Friday off work too, to spend the day with my betht fwend, lol. We used to see each other every fortnight for a natter and a trip to the pictures but in the end I was just too tired to cope with the driving and late nights. I was looking forward to getting together again and it was good but I wasn't the person I wanted to be with her. Its difficult to explain but some people bring out different aspects of me and with my BF, it can be my bossy streak! I think maybe she's so warm-hearted and co-operative (can't think of the right word) that I have to make an effort not to take charge. We used to share an office and spent our lunchtimes together, we were joined at the hip, shared all our woes and had lots of laughs. Later she was my rock when I was going through some really hard times and I want to be the fun friend she deserves, not some bossy big sister character who falls asleep on the sofa watching The Far Pavilions. Ah well, I'm hoping to start our cinema nights again so maybe I can rediscover the old me.

I've decided to chicken out of going grey for now. It's just adding to my general air of weariness and anyway, lovely daughter doesn't like it! I think it may remind her of my own mortality, ie mum's going grey = getting old = nearer death? I plan to return to 'light brown' some time in the next week.

and here we are again

Its 03:22. Got up to take an anti-histamine and have made myself a cup of tea and switched the computer on to take my mind off the nettle devils. I've also had a fruity/nutty bar thing and two slices of toast and am feeling wide awake, so that's me grinding to a halt around 2pm then. Sigh.

On the plus side, there's light at the end of the tunnel at work since I finally completed the report I've been meaning to finish for weeks (which gets scary woman upstairs off my back for a few days) and I've reduced the piles of 'to do' stuff so its feeling more manageable now.

And I have made a suggestion to mum about a change in accommodation that I think she's considering....(I've abandoned attempts to insert a map).....there's some retirement flats just over the road from where I work and about 2.5 miles away from where I live. They look great, they're about 400 yards from a row of shops and there's a few for sale.

Pros for mum -

1. its 20 minutes nearer to my work and home than her current address so I could call in every lunchtime and maybe for a while on the days I don't go at present
2. she might be able to make it to the shops on her own with a walking stick or a tri-walker so wouldn't feel a prisoner in her own home
3. she might not be so lonely if she's surrounded by people of a similar age, she might even make a friend or two!
4. she wouldn't have to look after a garden
5. I'm only 5 minutes away whether at work or at home so can be with her much quicker in an emergency.

Cons -

1. she'd have to go through the trauma of moving (she's 90 in November!)
2. she'd have to change her beloved doctor.

Pros for me - 1 and 5 from mum's pros.

Cons for me (totally selfish of course) -

1. I have a feeling that if I'm more accessible, mum will be summoning me more often.
2. I'll have to go through the trauma of moving my mum.

Watch this space!

Well not this one of course. Nothing else going to happen in this space. Its 04:20 - I'm going back to bed.

groundhog daft o'clock

Mum saved her poison arrows until I was about to leave on Saturday, then it was "I shouldn't be living alone, this house (bungalow) is too much for me to manage, its the loneliness that's the worst, I hope you never shove me into a home - that would finish me off, what I need is a one bedroomed flat (one room less = a doddle to manage?!), I'll never forget being left alone the first night out of hospital........."
The short version is I'm a terrible daughter for not asking her to live with us
and climb the stairs to the loo and her bedroom
and avoid tripping over our black dog on the charcoal hall and stairs carpet
and be on her own all day while we're all out at work or out with friends
in a house that could never be warm or tidy enough for her
in a village full of strangers and no shops
and a son-in-law she hasn't had a good word to say about for over thirty years.

And just to put the record straight, ok, maybe I should have stayed with her that first night in January 2008 but I collected her from the hospital and stayed with her all day and put her to bed and was exhausted from daily trips to the hospital for a month and just wanted to go home to my own bed. And despite what she might tell you, she DIDN'T ask me to stay - if she had, I would have stayed.

Felt rubbish Saturday night.
Sunday woke at 6.30am and couldn't settle so got up and knitted and watched Sharpe and Heartbeat and Some Like it Hot. Felt headachey and heartachey by the afternoon so went to bed. Still feeling gloomy when I got up at teatime. Just after 1am abandoned sleeping husband as I was itchy and restless so here I am again, on the voyage of the dawn typer.

Not looking forward to work tomorrow. Loads to get done and have slowed down lately due to feeling low. Unexpected tasks send me into a silent panic and I turn into a zombie in the early afternoon. Life is weighing heavily again. Maybe I should ask the doc for stronger Prozac?

can't complain (but I will anyway)

Mum is on good form at the moment. Fiesty, jokey - she has demanded I cancel the home care service as she doesn't like strangers coming in, rootling through her fridge and "shoving food down (her)", especially the one who didn't wash her hands before making a sandwich. She seems to have more energy and less confusion so I've done as she asked. I think she'll be ok getting her own food and taking her tablets. She even didn't have a problem with my not going round last night (late night working) - the first time I've missed a day since she took ill just before Christmas.

I, on the other hand, am dropping to bits. Tired, eczema's back, itchy, still coughing, some weird gynaecological thing going on. Will discuss all with my doctor tomorrow as well as the sleep clinic results - oxygen levels fine but pulse irregular. I have tomorrow off work to be home when the technician comes to set up our new TV. I would like to think I'll get lots of housework done but I'll probably just sleep. Suppose I'd better get dressed and ready for work now. Sigh.

still here, just.

My dog got me up for the second time in ten minutes at 04:30. As I would only lie in bed with mum filling my head, I may as well be here, with a cup of tea. Nothing has changed. Actually its getting worse.

Monday. Mum rings me at work. Someone has phoned her from the surgery saying the doctor wants to see her. She told them she couldn't get there. They told her they would collect her at 07:45 Tuesday morning. I tell her it sounds unlikely but I will check with the surgery and tell her what happened when I see her after work. The surgery asks round everyone but no-one has called my mum. I phone the FAST team. No-one there has phoned. Mum phones me at work. She thought I was going to phone her back. I try to tell her the results of my enquiries. She can not hear me clearly. Everyone at work within 100 yards can hear me. Monday night. I tell her over and over again the surgery didn't ring. She must have misunderstood what was said. Was she sure it wasn't one of her carers? No. Definitely the surgery. I promise to be at hers for 07:45 on Tuesday to see who turns up. Same old, same old. I go home at 20:30.

Tuesday. I arrive at mum's at 07:30. She is already in her winter coat, complaining about having to go to the doctor's. Time passes. Nothing happens. I phone the surgery a number of times but get the 'closed' message. I tell her I will take her to the doctor's if it turns out that she has an appointment. 08:15 - mum's carers arrive. Mystery solved. One of them had phoned her yesterday to say she would be coming earlier to do her breakfast. Took a while to get the message through to mum. Gave the carer my contact details and instructions to phone me in future with any messages. Went to work, collecting my prescriptions from my doctor's on the way. I wonder whether I should ask for a stronger dose of Prozac? I'm obviously not looking my best - at the morning meeting my lovely boss says she might have to send me home if she thinks I'm taking too much on. I'm glad to be at work with something to distract me. I manage to get through the day in first gear, completing a number of tasks. After work, mum's. This time she remains in misery mode all evening. All the usual lamentations and "there's no love". Of course she's right, there isn't. How can you love someone who all their life has made you feel like a huge disappointment? I'm not totally heartless. I recognise that she is unhappy and afraid on her own and I feel sorry for her, as I would any 89 year old widow in poor health. I just can't be what she wants - a surrogate husband, someone there 24/7 to keep her company and take responsibility for everything. I do my best, I go round day after day, I make sure she takes her tablets and doesn't run out, I encourage her to eat, I rub Vick on her chest to help her breathe, I help her bathe and wash her hair, I do her laundry and make sure she has food in the house, I take her to all her doctor's and hospital appointments, I listen to all her stories as though they were new to me, I sit there quietly accepting of all the veiled insults and complaints she directs at me. 57 years of conditioning as a doormat have worked well. I leave at 20:30 and join my husband and friends in the local pub. We don't stay long.

And now its Wednesday. I don't usually go to mum's on Wednesdays - I'm either doing a late shift at work or off to the pictures with my best friend. I shall have to go tonight or face the wrath of she who must be attended. I told her last night that my colleague will do my late shift tonight so that I can go to mum's. She clearly doesn't believe me, she doesn't understand why anyone should have to work late in an "office job". Which just goes to show how she demeans what I do for a living. She often says "you shouldn't be working now" and pulls a face when I say I'll retire at 65. She thinks I should abandon my career/salary/pension to look after her full-time. I intend phoning the social worker today. I need to tell her how impotent I feel in the face of mum's emotional blackmail. Will she be sympathetic or disapproving? I'm beyond caring.

Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me...

You're slipping, my spiteful little sprite. She has overcome her feelings of filial guilt and slumbers in the warmth of her marital bed.
So sorry Master. I will attend to it at once .... see, she wheezes and coughs and is driven from her bed in the early hours to escape her mate's stentorian snoring. She seeks solace on the sofa downstairs, wrapped in a nylon quilt.

Your plan has backfired, my poisonous little prankster. She finds comfort in the cosiness of the quilt and the cradling of the couch against her back. She may yet sleep.
Fear not Master, I have a plan. I shall wake the hound and fill it's mind with urgent need. She will have to rise to let it out and wait until it's return.

Very good, my little mischief maker. But she is now settling down again and I no longer hear wheezing like the breeze across a thousand rusty violin strings. You seem to be losing your touch. Perhaps I should find a less challenging subject for you, the fishmonger's cat, for example.
No Master, please, I beg you! Give me one more chance to prove myself.
Very well then, but I warn you, failure is not an option.

You will be so pleased with me Master. See how she sweats beneath the nylon quilt and rails against the torment of a thousand fire ants, see how she scratches until sore and applies unguents to no avail. She paces the floor, pale of face and bleary of eye. Soon it will be dawn!
You have done well, my malicious little mosquito. But tell me, what does she now?
She has taken an 'anti-histamine' tablet Master, and is making a cup of tea. See how wide awake she is!

Dim-witted demon! Incompetant imp! Does she cough or wheeze? Does she scratch or roam the house?
No Master.
And why do we not see these manifestations of my will?
She has turned on the computer Master.
And?
Concentration on blogging and the tablet beginning to work is taking her mind off her travails, Master. But she has had only moments of sleep in the last 3 hours! Be merciful Master - I shall try harder!

It is too late. She will soon be weary enough to sleep. You have failed miserably. Make your way to Billingsgate.
Master, please!
NOW!

(sigh) I suppose I shall have to see to this one myself. I'll let her dwell a while in a false sense of security until, in a few hours' time, she has to play the dutiful daughter again.

Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha

HA HA HA HA HA

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