4 December 2012
Went to visit mum to take her out for coffee. Before we left
I asked if I could use her toilet. Don’t ask me how, but somehow I broke the
lock and couldn’t get out. Mum had the
TV on at full volume so couldn’t hear my calls for help. There was nothing for
it but to pull the emergency cord. Eventually the House Manager arrived to find
out what was going on. Mum, engrossed in the Jeremy Kyle show at full blast,
was totally oblivious to the fact that I was missing. No amount of fiddling
around on the outside handle could get me out. In the end she had to ring for a
Handyman to take the door handle and lock off the door. ½ an hour later I was
set free.
6 December 2012
Mum going on and moaning about how blunt her scissors were.
She had been trying to sharpen them by rubbing them together. I told her to
throw away the scissors and I’d buy a new pair. “Oh no, I can’t throw them
away, your father bought me these before we got married.” I took a good look at
the scissors and said, “I didn’t know there was a branch of IKEA in South
London in the 1940’s.” Yes, IKEA
trademark scissors.
Anyway, went to the material shop, where mum goes, and asked
for their best pair of dress-makers scissors.
“What do you mean by best pair?” the assistant asked. “They’ve got to be
as sharp as my mother’s tongue” I said.
She looked horrified. “Do you know my mother?” I said. “She’s the one
with the tracheotomy.” She nodded her head, rolled her eyes and handed them
over.
Back to mum’s with the scissors where I received smirking
looks from staff and residents alike. They have all now heard about my
adventures of the day before yesterday – being locked in the toilet and needing
to be rescued.
Surprised to learn from my mother that my brother-in-law
phones his mother every Sunday at 10am.
23 December 2012
After their evening meal last night, all the residents paraded
out of the dining room and as mother passed by the switch, she turned the
lights out plunging everyone into darkness.. One of the old ladies told mum to
switch it back on. (Health and safety requires that all lights in public spaces
are kept on until lock-down.) According
to mother, she politely said that she was only trying to be helpful, at which
point, apparently, Deputy House Manager told her off publicly for being rude to
the old lady. Mother is fuming!
11 January 2013
I take mum out for coffee at least twice a week. These
always turn into a complaints session regarding the House Manager, so today I
tried some “diversion” tactics and took her shopping for hats. One of the few
things mother and I have in common is that we are both fashion icons. She
gamely tried on some hats that I chose for her.
14 January 2013
Took mum out for coffee. My diversion tactics fail as mother
launches into a barrage of criticism about the House Manager and the dreadful
way the House Manager has treated her.
I kept reminding mum that it wasn’t so very long ago that
she was singing the House Manager’s praises because she gave mum “preferential
treatment”. (Mother is always telling me how she hates the rest of the staff
and other residents and that she only stays at the House because of House
Manager). No matter. Mother goes on and on, rehearsing her grudge again House
Manager
16 January 2013
Had a phone call from mum’s House Manager. They are at their
wits end with mother. Mum has not been talking to House Manager since Christmas
and blames the House Manager for the incident with the light switch. Mother
refuses to believe that the House Manager wasn’t on duty at the time. (Her
father had died and she was on compassionate leave.)
Today things came to a head when the House Manager
confronted mum about why mum isn’t talking to her and why mum publicly refuses
to speak to House Manager or give her eye contact.
Mum is angry that the House Manager told her off in public
over the incident of the light. Mum tried the emotional blackmail routine on
the House Manager: “After all that I’ve done for you. You asked me to dress the
doll.”
The fact is that the House Manager had NOT asked mum to
dress a doll. Mum had been
dressing the doll for the old lady at the charity shop. (Remember the row she’d
had with the lady about being “posh” and the length of Christening gowns?) The
House Manager had casually mentioned that she had a 12 year old granddaughter
and mum immediately offered the doll to her!
According to House Manager all the other residents are fed
up with mother and just roll their eyes when they see her. Mother is spoiling
the friendly atmosphere of the House. The House Manager, the staff and other
residents have come to the end of their tether and want me to do something
about it.
The truth is that when the old lady asked mother to turn the
lights back on, mother gave her a lashing with her tongue that left the old
lady and the other residents who witnessed it in shock.
The House Manager says she feels that mother is treating her
like a family member: she also has become the victim of this a bitter,
critical, vindictive, poisonous old woman whose evil look could kill! I asked
what would happen next. Would the House
Trustees give mum a formal “warning”?
The House Manager said she didn’t want it to come to that just yet.
17 January 2013
Arrived to visit mum to be met by House Manager. Mum has
apologised for yesterday’s outburst and has given her a box of chocolates.
However, mother still insists that the House Manager spoke to her unkindly and
refuses to believe that the House Manager wasn’t on duty when the incident
occurred.
I went to mum’s room and listened to the usual “I’m not
well” and “I had a bad night” routine.
Then I casually said
Me: I hear you had a disagreement with House Manager,
yesterday.
Mum: (Back straightening, pursing lips and getting
ready for a fight): How do you know?
Me: House Manager phoned me yesterday to express a
concern
Mum: How dare she !!
Me: She’s obliged to, because I am a signatory on
your lease and I’m responsible to ensure that you keep the house rules.
Mum: How dare you go behind my back and talk to House
Manager about me.
Me: She’s obliged to, because I am a signatory on
your lease and I’m responsible to ensure that you keep the house rules.
Mum: You listen to her side of the story. But you
don’t listen to my side of the story.
Me: Yes I do. I’ve had to listen to your side of the
story every time we go out for coffee. It’s your only topic of conversation,
Mum: No it isn’t !
Me: You’re getting confused and forgetful, mum. It’s
all you ever talk about.
Mum: I don’t want you coming here. Get out.
Me: No mum. I choose when I leave. House Manager has
phoned me and I need you to assure me that you are going to be nice to people.
Mum: What do you mean? All the people here are my
best friends. I get on well with all the staff.
Me: Yes, but you need to get on well with House
Manager.
Mum: What ! After the way she’s treated me?
Me: She hasn’t done anything. She wasn’t even on duty
the day you said the incident happened.
Mum: Oh you listen to her side of the story. But you
don’t listen to me.
Me: Mum, we’ve just had this conversation. I’ve
listened to you go over and over this every time we’ve gone out for coffee.
Mum: I hate it here. I’m going to leave. (She gets up
and puts her coat on)
Me: But you’ve just told me that all the residents
are best friends and that you get on with all the staff.
Mum: Give me my money back.
Me: I haven’t got your money. It’s in the bank.
Mum: Well, give me my bank card.
Me: I don’t have your bank card. I’ve only got my
bank card.
Mum: Well give me that card.
Me: There’s no point. It’s got my name on it and only
I know the PIN number. That means you can’t use it.
Mum: I’m going to a solicitor to get my money out the
bank.
Me: If you see a solicitor, you’ve got to pay him.
How will you pay him if you can’t get money out the bank?
Mum: (Taking off coat and sitting down.) You don’t
know how upset I am.
Me: Yes, I do, you keep telling me. You can choose to
be kind, gracious and forgiving, or harbour anger, bitterness and resentment.
Mum: Well, I’m not going to talk about it any more.
Me: Good, the more you nurse grievances, the more
they become poisonous.
Mum: You don’t know how hurt I am.
Me: You’ve just said you are not going to talk about
it any more.
Mum: She had no right to tell me off publicly.
Me: You’ve just said you are not going to talk about
it any more.
Mum: Why did she phone you?
Me: You’ve just said you are not going to talk about
it any more.
Mum: You’re taking her side against your own mother.
Me: You’ve just said you are not going to talk about
it any more.
At which point I left.
24 January 2013
Woken up by a noise at 3:30am. Found my father-in-law up and
dressed trying to get out of the front door to go home. We have to hide the key
now to stop his escaping. He told me off for keeping him as a prisoner. I
practically had to carry him upstairs back to bed. He refused to believe that
this is the home he was lived in for the past 35 years. “This is not a home
it’s a prison.” he kept telling me.
When I got him up in the morning I asked if he'd had a good
night. He said, "No, I've had a nightmare". I had to say, "No,
it wasn't a nightmare, it really happened!" My mother-in-law is in
complete denial about the seriousness of the situation. They are both going to
downhill. I'm seriously thinking of collecting all three of them up (Mother and
in-laws) having them all put away.
Went to visit mum. She was all sweetness and light. She said
sorry ! Well let’s see if it lasts. Last November I asked her doctor to visit
and give her a mental health check. Today the Hospice nurse phoned to warn me
that the Doctor had referred her to the Geriatric Clinic because of her
behaviour. Mum has also been referred to the DART team. I asked if this was for
people who were Demented And Really Troubled” She laughed and said “Yes, I know
what your mother’s like”.
30 January 2013
Mum is now going into mass production of dressing up dolls
in Christening gowns. She has completed the doll for House Manager (Although
mum is refusing to hand it over in revenge for the light switch affair. I told
mum that the doll had already been promised to House Manager’s granddaughter
and it would be wrong to disappoint the young girl.)
Having made an exhaustive search of Exmouth charity shops
for second hand dolls, we directed our attention to Budleigh Salterton. We found
a 3ft tall horror with wild tangled hair. Mother went through the usual stories
about how she’d employed workers for her contract with Marks & Spencer.
This story grows with the telling of it. Mother told her how she only got “one
and three” (1s 3d) for each skirt. I asked the woman if she knew what “one and
three” was. She shook her head, looked mystified and said “no”.
There is no sign of mum’s appointment at the Geriatric
Clinic so when I got home I phoned and made the appointment myself for the 21st
February.
31 January 2013
Phoned mum to tell her I’d made the appointment at the
hospital. She said she’d spent 3 hours combing the doll’s hair trying to
untangle it. Frustrated and bored she’d decided to cut all its hair off. I’m
not sure the world is ready for a bald 2 year old girl in a long christening
gown.
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