1 December 2010
Mother has accused by youngest sister of stealing two of her
pictures. My eldest sister is furious. Mum had already given her the pictures,
and then had the nerve to ask for them back because they were “too precious to
trust to anyone’s safekeeping.”
2 December 2010
My middle sister phoned. Mum had phoned her to tell her that
she has skin cancer. She has diagnosed herself after reading an article in the People’s
Friend.
Mum took herself off to A&E in Exeter She is “disgusted”
with the National Health Service. She was treated by an 18 year old doctor who
couldn’t tell the difference between cancer and wart. She is refusing to use
the antibiotic cream he prescribed. It is useless against cancer.
7 December 2010
Had a phone call from Careline UK. My mother has pulled the
emergency cord again: dad has had a fall. They can’t understand the woman who
called them (my mother). They have called out the paramedics and an engineer to
repair their emergency intercom. I
explained,
a) that my mother always speaks like that and that
b) mum has moved
the bed again and has blocked the emergency intercom so she can’t be heard. I said
that I would phone my parents.
No answer from mum & dad’s phone. The Care Manager
phoned me to tell me that their phone wasn’t working and could I contact the Telephone
Company. Phoned the telephone company. They tested the line and there is
nothing wrong with the phone.
I took the bus over and discovered that mum had unplugged
the phone. This is always a bad sign. It
means that they are cutting you out of their life. It’s their way of punishing
you.
Dad was OK, just a bit shaken. But mum is still seriously
ill with “skin cancer”. Plugged the phone back in.
8 December 2010
Another phone call from the Care Manager. Mother is not feeling well and felt “light
headed” in the night. She has no
confidence in doctors and decided to consult the organ grinder rather than the
monkey and dialled 999 for an ambulance to take her to hospital.
I phoned my parents. Dad answered (a rare occurrence in itself
– Mum usually polices communication with the outside world). He told me that
the paramedics were with mum at that very moment. I could hear the paramedic in
the background asking dad who he was speaking to. When he learned it is the son,
the paramedic took the phone and told me that my mother was wasting their time.
There was nothing wrong with her. Her blood oxygen level was 97% (the same as
his).
Email from youngest sister. She has received the letter from
parents. It has no return address. This is another one of the parents’ ploys;
to let you know that they have cut you off. She followed our usual practice and
burnt the letter.
After the disastrous visits of my two other sisters, my
middle sister is going to fly in to visit the parents. Given that mum is convinced that she is dying, I decided
to tell her about my middle sister’s “surprise” visit. Mum’s excitement is
tempered by the fact that my sister lands at Heathrow on the 25th of
December but does not arrive at hers until the 27th and on top of that is only
staying 3 nights! "Why can’t she come straight down?" Mother expects sister to
spend 11 hours in a plane and then drive the 300 miles to visit her. Sister
& brother-in-law and their children will be spending time with
brother-in-law’s mother. Mother is already calculating how many hours my sister
is spending with her as compared to sister’s mother-in-law.
Mum is intensely Jealous about my sister visiting other
people, particularly my brother-in-law’s mother. The last time my sister came,
mum counted how many photographs my sister had taken of her and how many of my
brother-in-law’s mother. There weren’t enough of my mother and so she took
offence and stopped speaking to my sister.
To avoid arguments I simply said that Pauline hadn’t sent me
her flight details, and assured her that it would only be a flying visit to the
UK
11 December 2010
9:30 am. My mum phoned me from Exeter A&E to say that
dad had been admitted. He couldn’t breathe during the night and she’d called an
ambulance. He has pneumonia. Went up to
the hospital and sat with her. The doctor
wasn’t very optimistic given dad’s frail condition. In a normal person they would expect the patient to respond
to antibiotics in 3 days. With someone who is elderly and frail, he couldn't
say what the prognosis might be. They moved dad out of A&E to the Emergency
Medical Unit. He couldn't say how long dad would be there. They are also
doing various tests on his phlegm.
I took mum home and arranged to take her back tomorrow.
3pm. Mum phoned. Where was I? Why hadn’t I collected her to
take her to visit dad? I explained it was still Saturday and we’d arranged to
go Sunday. Not good enough. She’s going to take a taxi.
12 December 2010
Phoned mum to remind her that I was collecting her at 2:30pm
to take her to visit dad.
Had lunch and went to collect mum. Arrived at 2:30 to be met
by an irate mother, accusing me of being late. She’d been sitting in the
entrance since 2pm waiting for me. Why hadn’t I come at 2:15? She’s phoned the
house to find out where I was and spoken to my wife. Why wasn’t I in when she
phoned?
a) I wasn’t in because I was on my way to collect her and
b) We’d arranged for me to collect her at 2:30pm
c) Even if it was 2:15pm, why had she come down at 2pm to
wait in the cold?
She is not convinced. She said that if I didn’t want to give
her a lift, I only have to say; she doesn’t want to be a burden to me. Too late
for that! All the way to the hospital she went on and on about not being a
burden whilst at the same time giving me driving instructions and a running
commentary on other road users.
We got to the hospital and I was about to park in the
disabled parking by the main entrance. Mum insisted that I was at the wrong
entrance. This was not the entrance she’d used the day before when the taxi had
brought her. I drove round to a small
side entrance that she said looked familiar.
The hospital is built on a hill and the main entrance is on “Floor 1”.
However, because of the slope, the side entrance is actually on the “Ground Floor”,
but you have to go up in lift to reach the main hospital corridor and
wards. This mum categorically refused to
believe because she hadn’t been in a lift the previous day. She insisted that
dad was in ward “M” rather than “EMU” as I said. We followed the sign to ward
“M” which meant going up in a lift. We walked the whole length of the main
corridor to ward “M” which turned out to be the X-ray department. Mum wouldn’t acknowledge that she’d got it
wrong and insisted that the ward “M” dad was in was next to A and E. So, we
walked the whole length of the corridor again and went into A and E to find out
what they’d done with dad. He was in
“EMU” which is in Ward “C”. Again, another
walk along the main corridor passed Ward “M” until we reached ward “C”, by which
time mum was totally exhausted.
Found dad and in a small side room sitting up and chatting
to a pretty young nurse. The first thing he said was, “I don’t think I’ll be
coming out soon, I’m going to wait and have my hair cut - the hairdresser is quite a pretty young
girl.” This did not go down well with my mother who immediately took as a
criticism of her age, beauty and hairdressing skills. (She's been cutting dad's hair for 60+ years.)
How he knows she is pretty, I don’t know because he didn't have his glasses on. Apparently, in
their rush to leave in the ambulance yesterday, mum had thrown her glasses into
a bag and not dads. She had been wearing dad’s glasses! “I thought things
looked strange when I was using my sewing machine this morning,” she said. I
promised to go back to their flat and bring in his glasses when I return in the
evening.
I collected mum at about 6:30pm. Dad had been moved to a main ward. The man in
the bed opposite constantly called out, “Help me!” Help me!” I explained that I
was only a visitor and not a member of staff. It didn’t matter; he still called
out imploringly, with arms outstretched, “Help me!” Help me!” Glad I didn’t go
near him; when the nurse came, he asked her to get into bed with him. There are
some things you don’t lose, even when you lose your marbles.
On
the way home mum kept trying to pump me about how long my middle sister would
be in the country. Was she coming for two weeks but only spending 3 days with
her? Spending the rest of the time with
her mother-in-law? I could honestly say that my sister had not sent me her
flight details. Mum was already planning menus. Fearful she might produce her
potato pasties again, I assured her that my sister was renting a self-catering
apartment.
13 December 2010
The telephone woke me up before 7am. It was Careline UK
phoning to tell me that all the electricity has gone out in mum’s flat and that
she has pulled the emergency cord. They phone me to go and sort it out. She is
in complete darkness and doesn’t have a torch to look in the electric cupboard.
When I arrived mum was in a complete panic about there not being
any electricity. “Then why is the electric fire on?” I said. I expertly flicked the trip switch for the
lights and they came on. I agreed with
mum that because I’d already been over once today she would get the man down
stairs to take her to visit dad.
12noon. Mum phoned to say that dad was coming out today. I
arranged to collect her at 4pm.
Arrived at the hospital and gave dad his suitcase containing
his coming home clothes and went to speak to the Charge Nurse: a man in his
early forties, pillar-box red hair down to shoulders in ponytail, called
“Natty”. He gave me a box of penicillin
pills saying that they were large and that if dad had any problems swallowing them,
they should break them in half. I expressed my concern that my father had
pneumonia and that they were sending him home. Dad still had difficulty
breathing and could hardly walk. Natty explained that my mother insisted that dad went home and that she is his “Carer”.
On the way home, mum opened the box of penicillin and exclaimed,
“Look at the size of these.” I explained
that they were suppositories and because she wanted dad to leave hospital
early, and that she was his “Carer”, she would have to administer them. Mother
has no sense of humour.
Mum was also very unhappy that the hospital want to give dad
a CT Scan. Why does he need it? “I’m the
one who’s ill”, she said.
14 December 2010
Went to visit parents. A woman doctor had been to visit. Mum
is shocked. The woman doctor wore high heels without any stockings or tights.
She is a “scruffy tart”.
Mum was also annoyed that dad kept using her 3-wheeler
walking frame and her wheelchair. I suggested that we get dad a walking frame
of his own. She is adamant that she can’t have another walking frame in the
flat taking up space. Dad can’t have a wheel chair because he has to push mum
in hers.
Mum wanted some Christmas cards. I offered to print some off
on the computer and include their new address so that friends and family will
know that they have moved (for the 43rd time). She wants me to print
off 20.
15 December 2010
16 December 2010
“What will people think if they all receive the same card?”
“How will they know? In my experience, people don’t get
together and compare Christmas Cards.”
I had to go to the
shops and buy a mixed box of cards. She doesn't plan to tell anyone they've moved. No one contacts her anyway.
17 December 2010
9am. Mum phoned me to ask for my daughter’s address so she
can send a Christmas Card. I told her
that I would collect the card when I come round in the afternoon to do her
shopping.
2pm. Mum is totally surprised that I have come to visit
them. What am I doing there? She thought I was travelling to visit my
daughter’s for Christmas. She gave me 4 cards to post, one of which is to my
in-laws who live in the same house as me. Mum insists that the Royal Mail
deliver it. It looks better than me hand delivering it.
Mother
still not talking to eldest or youngest sister.
19 December 2010
Heavy snowfall over night and we are snowed in. I phoned
mother to say that it would take me a few hours to dig my way out, but that I
would be over this afternoon to do the shopping. Not good enough. She wants the
shopping this morning and If I can’t get there she will go herself. It doesn’t
matter that she might slip on the ice and snow. She’d already told the doctor
she had one foot in the grave and the other one slipping in.
22 December 2010
More snow. Tried to
get the car out of the garage, but it got stuck. Risked life and limb to walk
to the bus stop to visit parents and do some shopping. Slipped and slithered to the bus stop but the
bus didn’t arrive. Phoned mum to say I was unable to get over. She wasn’t
impressed. The lady who lives below her had a son who lives in our village and
he managed to get out and visit his mother. I explain that we live on the outskirts
of the village and whichever way we go, we have to negotiate steep hills.
23 December 2010
Spent the morning digging tracks down from the garage to the
road so that we could get the car out. However, the road is still too bad to
drive on.
24 December 2010
Managed to get out of the village and drove over to mum. She
doesn’t need any shopping she has done it all herself. When I got back home she
phoned me, in a state, saying that dad had had an “accident” and that she had
no disinfectant, would I go and get her some.
There was no way I was going to risk driving over again,
especially as the temperature had dropped below freezing. I risked life and
limb again and got myself down to the railway station and caught the train into
town. I bought the disinfectant and a
bunch of roses for dad to give mum in compensation for his “accident”. The
pavements hadn’t been gritted and were treachorous. My legs gave way; my feet went up in the air
in front of me, and I landed spread-eagled on the ice. Fortunately, I was
wearing my rucksack containing the flowers, so they helped cushion my fall. I
was shaken but not hurt. The flowers, however, were so flattened they could
have easily been slipped under her door.
When I eventually arrived, I discovered that my visit was
wasted. Someone, described as her
“carer” had been and cleaned everything up.
Mum didn’t think it was worth phoning to tell me not to come as I’d
probably already left. I noticed that there were bags of shopping in the
kitchen. When I started to probe, dad began to tell me how it was too cold and
dangerous for them to go out. Mum jumped in and said sharply, “Shut up Horace,
you’ve got it wrong”. I begin to suspect
that it is in fact this “carer” who has been going out doing the shopping,
rather than mum.
25 December 2010
Snowed in. Phoned mum. A chilly Christmas.
26 December 2010
My middle sister has arrived in UK. She has wisely brought her
children with her. Mum behaves herself in front of her grandchildren.
27 December 2010
Relationship with middle sister is a bit touch and
go at times because of her length of stay. “Three days? It wasn't worth her
coming”. My daughter and son-in-law have arrived so there are more grandchildren to help keep the peace at mum’s. Mum also self-medicates on Brandy and Coke, so that helps.
28 December 2010
Lunch at the pub opposite parents’ flat. Then I took my
nephew to the joke shop to buy some stink bombs. Slipped a couple into mum’s
flat via the letter box. Wondered if she would get the bleach out thinking that
dad had had one of his “accidents”.
29 December 2010
Went to mum & dad’s to say goodbye to my sister and her family.
My sister had been through mum’s hospital appointments and written them on the
calendar for her. We arranged that I would take mum to the hospital on the 4th
January for her 9:15am
appointment. I
would collect her at 8:15am.
30 December 2010
Mum hasn’t got long to live, so she is dispersing her
jewellery around the family.
She also asked me again about how long my sister would be
staying with her mother-in-law before flying home. There is history between my
mother and my sister’s mother-in-law, Helen. 15 years previously mum & dad
had spent 10 staying in Helen’s house whilst Helen went to visit my sister and
brother-in-law. They decorated Helen’s
kitchen whilst she was gone: painted the kitchen cabinets, put lino down, and wallpapered
etc. This had been loosely arranged ahead of time, but there was no
discussion of style, colour, and pattern. When Helen got back she called mum to
say thank you. Mum and moved things around and Helen casually asked where they
had put the toast rack. Mum, rather than
think of places she might have tucked it away, immediately assumed she was
being accused of stealing the toast rack. “I’ve not stolen it” she said. (Helen
never thought that she had!) However, a
few days later Helen received not one, but four, toast racks in the post (in
different styles) to replace the 'missing' one.
Honestly, how did you and your sisters cope?? I am stressed out just reading about her antics. I know you have a great sense of humour.. and that's half the battle I'm sure.
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