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.
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.
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