Friday, 11 October 2019

Vol 4. The Diary. August & September 2012

2 August 2012

Mother hates her flat because it overlooks the carpark so she is going to move to a flat upstairs in two week’s time. It’s in the attic with two steps up from the corridor into the room, making it impossible for her use her walking frame but she wants to go there anyway: anything is better than overlooking the carpark. Mum actually admitted that she is getting confused!

 

6 August 2012

Visited mother today. If you want to know how it went, read my blog for the past year. Another nightmare visit.  Without her sewing machine, she is going crazy because she has nothing to do. I asked about the box of watercolour paints I’d bought her for her birthday. She doesn’t have it any more. She’s given it away. Unopened and used. She’s changed her mind about moving upstairs because she doesn’t expect to live long enough to move.

9 August 2012

The House Manager phoned me in desperation: can I please go over and sort mother out. Mum caused a scene at tea time upsetting the other residents. She flounced out (as far as you can flounce with a walking frame) in floods of tears, threatening to sue the electrician who ruined her sewing machines. The House Manager wanted me to go over and confiscate the machines.

I went over to see mum. I remained calm and explained that I was going to save her any more worry and deal with the sewing machine situation myself once and for all and take the machines away.

Mum: There is nothing wrong with those sewing machines; they just need the leads that the fridge man took away.
Me: No mum. You only have leads for one machine, you asked the electrician to cannibalise them for the other machine.
Mum: He was a fridge repair man
Me: Yes, but you knew that when you asked him cannibalise the leads.
Mum: There is nothing wrong with the machines.
Me: There must have been, otherwise you wouldn’t have asked him to cannibalise the leads for the machine that kept blowing the fuses.
Mum: I didn’t blow the fuses!
Me: But every time you used the machine it blew the fuse trip switch for your room.
Mum: I was only watching the television when the fuse went.
Me: It couldn’t have been the TV because you’re still watching the TV and the fuses haven’t blown. You’ve stopped using the sewing machine and the fuses haven’t blown any more.
Mum: I tell you it wasn’t me. If you take the sewing machines I never want you to come here again.
Me: Mum, you remember how you told me last week that you are getting muddled and confused?  I think you’ve got confused about the sewing machines.
Mum: Oh! That’s it! You want to have me put away!  Have me put away then! I want to be put away!
Me: They don’t have places anymore where they put people away. But when the Long Term Care Nurse comes to visit, you could ask her to refer to the Community Psychiatric Nurse.
Mum: My own son wants to have me put away!
Me: No, mum, it was you that raised the subject….
Mum: You want to have me put away!!
Me: No, mum, it was you that raised the subject….
Mum: You want to have me put away!!
Me: Now stop mum. You are not listening to me…
Mum: You want to have me put away!!
Me: No, you raised the issue.
Mum: If I weren’t a Christian. I’d kill myself
Me: Mum, if you were a Christian, you wouldn’t treat people the way you do.
Mum: What do you mean? What have they been saying? You believe them over against your own mother.
Me: I’m leaving now
Mum: What have they been saying?
Me….. Walking slowing down corridor carrying two sewing machines.
Mum…..Screaming down the corridor….. “What have they been saying?”
Me…Walking across the carpark carrying the machines
Mum:…..Screaming out of her window….“What have they been saying?”

Tried various charity shops, but not one wants two old second hand sewing machines. It would cost them too much to have them tested and repaired. I took them to  the second hand shop to dispose of for me. The owner has had dealings with mother in the past and just rolled his eyes.

13 August 2012

Without a sewing machine mum has decided to take up painting (even though she’d given away the painting set I’d given her for her birthday) and wants me to take some photographs over for her to copy.

 

14 August 2012

Took some photographs for mum to paint.

Mum: I don’t know these people – who are they?
Me: They’re your granddaughters.
Mum: I don’t know this girl.
Me: It’s not a girl, it’s a woman. It’s your granddaughter.
Mum: It can’t be. This girl looks about 17.
Me: Well, I’m sure she’ll be very flattered, but she’s a woman of 31.
Mum: 31! She can’t be.
Me: I’m her father. I was there when she was born 31 years ago.
Mum: Impossible. This must be a very old photograph.
Me: No, I’ve just taken it off her Facebook page.
Mum: Well who are these women?
Me: They’re your granddaughters, my sisters’ girls.
Mum: They can’t be. They both look about 25.
Me: One has just turned 17 and the other has just turned 16.
Mum: Impossible. They're too old.
Me: I’ve just downloaded the pictures off their Facebook Page.

Loud noise, like air in a water pipe, or the old man next door farting. (Have you noticed that old people can walk and fart at the same time?)

Mum: That’s the emergency cord going.
Me: Sounded like a water pipe to me.
Mum: They’ve accused me of pulling the emergency cord. They came down when I was on the toilet and accused me of pulling the cord!
Me: You know there is an emergency cord in the bathroom?
Mum: It wasn’t me!
Me: It’s easily done. It happened to me once at the Council Offices. I pulled the emergency cord instead of flushing the toilet. When I opened the door I was met by the first aid team who were about to break the door down.
Mum: It wasn’t me!
Me: It must have been you. All the emergency cords are individualised so they know who to go to.
Mum: They blame me for everything. It wasn’t my sewing machine that blew the fuses.
Me: (Changing subject quickly) So, have you changed your mind about not moving upstairs?
Mum: Yes, I’m going to put my name down for it. And there's a lift I can use.
Me: That'll be nice. You’ll have a better view.
Mum: They keep parking under my window and I can’t open it.
Me: But it only happened the once when you first moved in.
Mum: It was last week.
Me: No, it was 3 months ago.
Mum: Why do you always do this? Why do you always contradict me?
Me: It doesn’t matter anyhow, you’ll be moving upstairs in a couple of weeks.
Mum: I’m not moving upstairs.
Me: But you’ve just me that you are!
Mum: No I’m not. I won’t be here in two weeks’ time.
Me: But at least you could have a nice view when you die.

More noise from pipes.

Me: I’ll go and find out what that noise is.
Mum: No. I don’t want you talking to anyone. They’ll think I’m always complaining.
Me: (Thinks: surely not) Shall I come back on Friday and take you out for coffee?
Mum: (With, an evil glare) No!
Me: (Opening door and leaving). Well, I’ll be off then.
Mum: (Shouting down corridor.) And don’t talk to anyone on your way out!

15 September 2012

Mother is still going crazy because she doesn’t have her sewing machine to occupy her. Suggested that she take up knitting and took her out to buy some wool and a pattern to knit a jumper for my grandson. Poor lad. (See Vol 3, chapter 10 for mum’s knitting victims.)

16 September 2012

Mum’s started the knitting but decided not to follow the pattern (too boring) and would do her own thing. The tape measure she is using has two inches missing off the front. (It also has an inch missing in the middle where she cut it and then glued it back together again) No wonder nothing ever fits.

17 September 2012

Exhausted. My cousin, dad’s nephew, came over today. We agreed that we wouldn't leave each other alone with mother (safety in numbers). Four hours! (3 1/2 more than I usually spend with her.) She was obviously very put out that she didn't have my cousin to herself. She just wanted to rehearse with him all her grievances about everyone and everything. I spent the whole time trying to change the subject into more positive things but she was like a dog with a bone: sewing machines, me never visiting, wanting to die, awful people where she lives, she wants to move, her son-in-law phones his  mother every Sunday at 10am, she has cancer, we made dad give up the car, my sister stole the picture of the fisherman, Blah Blah Blah. I swear, mother wouldn't know truth if it hit her in the face (which I nearly did). Because she has false memory syndrome and rewrites history, I had to keep correcting her, which really wound her up. She told me in front of my cousin that she never wants me to visit again (again). Because she is going crazy with nothing to do, my cousin offered to send her photos and buy her some paints to paint his grandchildren. She was enthusiastic and grateful. She seems to have forgotten that I bought her a large box of paints for her birthday, which she promptly gave away unused. The photos I printed off for her have all been cut up or have tea stains on them. (She is using them as coasters.)  

My cousin gave me a lift home. Sure enough, mum phoned me to find out what we were up to and what we were saying about her. I didn't tell her. She would have gone mad if she knew I'd brought him home for a cup of tea without her). I felt a bit sad for him. He is my birth cousin but had been given up for adoption. He said how he'd always wished he'd had a "family" when he was growing up. But when he looks at mother, he's not so sure.

20 September 2012

Mum phoned me on my mobile phone.
Me: Hello Mum
Mum: Hello it’s me. Just to let you know I'm going to the day centre today, if you were coming over.
Me: No you're not. You're going tomorrow.
Mum: No, I'm definitely going on Tuesday.
Me: Well, today is definitely Thursday. You're going tomorrow, Friday.
Mum: Bloody Hell. And I've got up early to get myself ready!
Me: Well, if you've made the effort and smartened yourself up, I'll come over and take you out for coffee.

So, I went over. Yes, mum had made an effort and smartened herself up and so I decided to take her to Topsham for coffee. Topsham is the sort of place where, if a lady wants to go into a coffee shop, she should be wearing a twinset, pearls and sensible shoes.

All the way there mum complained about the jumper she is knitting for my grandson. The wool has been dyed in such a way that, as you knit it, if forms a pattern. Mum's compulsive obsessive disorder has risen to to the surface. She has been cutting lengths of wool off the balls in order to make it match. She has wasted loads of wool. No amount of reassurance that it is a random pattern and it is OK to change wool mid row satisfies her. As we get to Topsham, she insists we turn round and go back to Exmouth to the wool shop to get different wool for the back and sleeves of the jumper.

At the wool shop we are met by the elderly assistant who was stone deaf and couldn’t understand what mum (because of her tracheotomy) was saying. "What did she say? What did she say?" the woman kept asking. I try desperately to muffle my fits of giggles and act as interpreter. The woman is completely baffled by mum's plans. The woman shows us a completed jumper made from the same wool. You cannot see the joins. That is until mum went over it with a fine tooth comb and pointed out the minuscule change of pattern mid-way in a row. The deaf old girl got even more confused because mum's explanation of why she wanted different wool was interspersed with mum's stories about how she had a "contract" to make clothes for Marks & Spencer. (Talk about the deaf and the daft.)
Mother whinged all the way back home. She kept saying. "I need to do knitting – it will stop me going mad". "Too late, mother" I said. "The knitting has already sent you mad."

Dropped her off but then on the way home my mobile phone rang.

Me: Hello, mum.
Mum: I've left my knitting pattern at shop.
Me: No you haven't. You didn't take it with you.
Mum: I must have done, because I can't find it.
Me: It is in your room somewhere.
Mum: I've looked everywhere. I must have left it at the shop.
Me: You didn't bring it out with you, because we weren't going to the wool shop, when we left, we were going to Topsham for coffee.
Mum: Well I can't find it. Go and check at the shop.
Me: You didn't take it with you!
Mum: Go to the shop. or I'll get a taxi myself.

I went to the shop. No sign of pattern. Deaf woman adamant that mother didn't bring the pattern with her. If mother had, there wouldn't have been all that confusion.

Mobile phone rings again.

Me: Hello, mum.
Mum: Have you collected the pattern from the shop?
Me: The shop doesn't have the pattern. They said that you didn't have it with you.
Mum: Well, I must have left in your car.
Me: Mum, you didn't bring it out with you. There was no need to bring it out with you, because we were going for coffee in Topsham!
Mum: Go back to the shop and make them look.
Me: Mum, its not there. You didn't take it with you. It’s in your room somewhere.
Mum: I'll get a taxi. I'm changing the pattern any way, I want to do a V-neck. I don't like doing round necks.

22 September 2012

Took mum to Cornwall to visit her mother's grave



Note to self: when taking mother out for the day to visit old friends warn them beforehand to avoid certain topics.

1) When meeting mum do NOT ask, "Are you still doing your sewing?" (This will cause heated discussion with number one son, me, about her false memory syndrome and how her sewing machine burnt itself out and fused the lights.)
2) Do NOT ask about her health.(This will cause heated discussion with number one son, me, about her false memory syndrome and her non aggressive cancer the size of a grain of sand that is not going to kill her.)
3) Do NOT ask how my sisters are. (This will cause heated discussion with number one son, me, about her interpretation of the fact that my brother-in-law phones his mother every Sunday morning at 10am.)
4) Do NOT ask about me. Mother will tell you how she hates me, hates going out with me, how I contradict her and how I side with her enemy (The House Manager).

The Good News is that mother went into a sulk and we had a very quiet 2 hour drive home.

30 September 2012

Phone call from mum. She wants me to go back to the second hand shop and get her machines back.  People at the Hospice want her to do sewing for them. I explained I’d disposed of them and she couldn’t have them back. “What do you mean, ‘disposed of’.”  I reminded her of the story of why we had to get rid of them.  “There was nothing wrong with those sewing machines! Go and get them back”, she screamed. I tried the broken record method and just kept repeating that they were broken and had fused the lights, ignoring her attempted to talk me down. In the end she said she never wanted to see me again and slammed the receiver down.

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