24/10/13

Mrs Pollard has left the building.

We tried. We really tried. We tried everything we could.

The live in carer idea seemed amazing on paper but was just not meant to be. Mums dementia has progressed too far to control with the normal diversionary tactics that have been so successful over the years. The violent outbursts have become too common and the mood swings too unpredictable. After a huge amount of soul searching Mum has been admitted to hospital for assessment to try to work out if  meds can stabilise the condition, without removing too much of the Mum we all remember.

The plan is that Mum will then go from the hospital straight to a care home. We know this is the best, the only answer but it was such an unbelievably difficult decision to make.

Mum has left the house she loved so much, never to return

When you have spent your whole life in the company of someone so strong, intelligent and able to rise above whatever life threw in their direction it is so hard to become the person to decide their future.

To see Mum today, asleep, drugged, half on half off a hospital bed in a such a stark, bare room very nearly broke me in two. 

This lady who has been a tower of strength and wisdom for so many years.
This lady who sat quietly in the wings ready to offer the most amazing help and counsel, but only when needed.
This lady who was  the most amazing, intelligent, caring, wise, loving lady you could ever hope to meet.

To see her, so helpless made me realise the roles have been reversed. We are now the ones who need to be strong, wise and caring. This is Mums Hour of need. 

Over to us.

Hello again

If you are a new reader to this blog may I suggest you read this and maybe one or two of the earlier ones to get a rough idea of how this all started.

Who Cares?

Following much family deliberation we have decided to take on full time carers for mum. Many factors have played a part in this decision, but principally Mums needs are becoming more and more demanding and I am finding it harder and harder to cope with the levels of care needed.

After several years where the main focus of a huge amount of my time, feelings and emotions has been focused on the well being of another, I finally realised that I have neglected caring for myself.

At first, when discussing care, the only thoughts going through my head were things like

"I've failed my Mum"

"No one will care for Mum like I can"

I now realise how wrong these two statements are. I haven't failed at all, I did a bloody good job for a long time, but now I need to let someone else take over, someone emotionally unattached, someone who can focus on care.

I also realise that I need to let go. I am all cared out. This doesn't mean I don't "care" what happens to Mum, just that I can no longer "care" for her as well as I would like, or provide the level of "care" that she needs. 

So it is with great trepidation that we allow carers amongst us. Will Mum like them? Will they like Mum? Will they like me and Sarah? Will we like them? Will they keep my spices in alphabetical order? 

The answers to these and many other questions will be answered over the next few weeks.

Gis a Job.

So...It is with great trepidation I re-enter the jobs market.

I havent had a real full time job for several years. At the same time I am very excited and also terrified at the prospect of rejoining the 9-5. Countless people tell me that I have been doing an amazingly worthwhile and rewarding job for so many years but I doubt many prospective employers will see it this way. 

So....If you know anyone looking for a caring hippy who loves some or all of the following please let me know.

• Driving
• Putting things in alphabetical order and straight lines
• Talking to people
• Listening to people
• Umm...some other stuff.

The important stuff.

There are two other things I need to share with you. 

But...

You will have to wait for the next blog for them.

Its well worth waiting though, damn exciting.

Our Hols, Part two.

Hello Again.

Following on from yesterdays blog, as the week progressed mum was very up and down. Out and about in the day was generally better than the evenings. She is seeming to need distractions of some kind all the time, whether it be a walk in the woods, food, music or TV. Becoming more and more like what I would imagine its like to have a small child. 

Sarahs Mum and her Partner and her 99 year old Nan visited for the day midweek. Great meal in Holt which mum really enjoyed. Nan can't half put some food away too! Back to the caravan and again the disorientation and confusion..

The low spot of the whole week was when I came to dismantle the awning. Mum was in tears, almost a full on tantrum, crying and shouting unintelligibly. Just couldn't get to the bottom of it. Sarah had to sit in the caravan and try to calm her while I managed to pack it away. Seriously considered travelling home a day early but I really don't think I was fit to drive. Eventually managed to get mum off to sleep so we could both calm ourselves down too.

Need to seriously think about the holiday situation. Whether the stressed out times are outweighing the benefits of the break for mum. Fabia is taking mum for a weekend in the peaks in December, staying in a Hotel so it will be interesting to see the difference that makes. 

Thats pretty much up to date with the holiday, so more tomorrow about rooms and words. Till then here's Mum talking to her new friend Billy.

Beans.

Today we have a guest blogger, my sister Fabia

Fabia whisked mum and the dog away for the weekend so Sarah and I could enjoy a birthday surprise from her Mum; a weekend at the spectacular Thoresby Hall. 

I've just had a good weekend with mum, and managed to do most things about right so I've been inspired to make an appearance on Jon's blog.

Its always a worry when to let mum know what the plans are. Not too early so she worries about where she's going to sleep and so can't sleep, but not too late so that she feels she's never told what's going on. Some time in the middle seems to work so that even if she forgets where she's going, mum still has 23 pairs of socks and a sun hat packed and ready to go.

We'd had a chat about mum coming over to help in the garden and she was looking forward to it. I arrived on Friday and we did our usual weekday things: swimming; gardening; watching a film. Then I stayed the night as usual and in the morning suggested we go over to my house. The swimming the day before worked its magic and mum slept most of the car journey so we didn’t have the customary discussion around 'where are we going?' and 'I don’t know this place'.

Its was lovely for mum to wake up as we arrived and say 'Here we are' 'I know where I am'. She was straight into the garden and as there was lots of weeding my fruit trees and bushes escaped mum's extreme pruning skills. Although my unruly raspberry canes were inspected many times. Mum likes things to be in order so we worked solidly, weeding, cutting the grass, raking and tidying. I must say, after a nice Sunday dinner at the pub on the second day we could relax in garden chairs and really enjoy the fruits of our labours in a spot of unexpected summer sunshine.

As we relaxed and chatted in our normal wandery way,  I explained that Jon and Sarah would pop over to bring mum back a bit later, and then we chatted about what we might do on my next weekly visit. Mum said we needed to do the round things that we did last time.  I wondered if mum meant she needed to take her tablets but no that wasn’t it. She made the shape of little round things with her fingers. 'The round things, we did lots of them' She mimed walking and moving her hands in small shapes. I wondered if it was the broad beans which we had sat and shelled on Friday but no 'Not broad beans, they are green, yes beans'.

I guessed at the green beans she had enjoyed with her Sunday lunch 'Oh they were lovely, but not those beans'
We continued like this for some time with me guessing at every round green bean thing that I could and trying to imagine what we might have to do with them. I offered to plant some beans in the vegetable patch in her garden and then as I thought of jobs which needed doing it struck me……. Gooseberries!

'Yes Gooseberries! We have to pick the gooseberries' We were both so pleased that we'd got to the bottom of those bean things. Last year we had sat for hours topping and tailing the pounds of gooseberries from the two bushes in mums garden. We'd both enjoyed the simple task that we could happily do together. The mime was mum walking to the bushes and picking the fruit. I suppose with dementia the trick is not to assume that beans will be beans.

Mum and Snapper after a hard day gardening.

Pointing,beer and socks

Pointing

Had a bad week with mum last week. Took a long time for her to readjust after our weekend at santapod. She is finding it harder and harder to cope with any change from a weekly routine. Every morning I would be summoned to her room for her to try to explain a problem. Every day the same pointing and broken sentences. Pointing at the bed and the corner of the room. Tried everything I could think to no avail. Midweek Mum walked into the kitchen carrying her quilt and pillow covers. "I hate these" Hoping that could be the root of the problem I changed the bed to covers she chose and everything seemed ok...for an hour or two.


Back to the drawing board. Same summoning into the room for pointing and words. Sometimes she would get quite angry, the frustration of not having the words to explain the problem, if indeed she really knows what the problem is. One day Sarah was summoned and managed to quieten things down by removing one pillow and straightening the quilt. 


Anyway, "normal" service was resumed towards the end of the week, helped by a few visits from the lovely gentleman and a trip to Leicester to do some shopping accompanied by a nice dinner somewhere.




Saturday, thanks to Sarah insisting I go out for the day,saw my first visit to The Welland Valley Beer Festival. This must be one of the best ideas for a beer festival in the country. A load of local pubs take part, with a huge selections of real ales and ciders, food and entertainment. To make it unique the pubs are served by a selection of vintage buses operating a free timetabled service round the pubs. Great to hear the sound of 50 grown men going woooooooooooooaaaaahhhhh as the buses approach the tops of the steepest hills. One of the buses had to stop on a hill on the way to Uppingham and all the passengers had to walk to the top. A great day for all. In one pub we were greeted by "Prost8" quite possibly the oldest (just)living jazz band in the world. Highly recommended.


This week in general has been much much better. The lovely gentleman called round several times to show off his new car and took Mum out for a spin or two, which always helps. We seem to be losing cutlery at an alarming rate, I think it may be going into mums Apocalypse stockpile. Once we run too low will have to investigate.




This weekend Sarah and I have been treated to a weekend At Thoresby Hall hotel and spa by her Mum and Partner. It was a birthday present for Sarah so I get to go along too. Cool. This seems to have kicked off a little confusion again. We will just have to see if this restarts the bedroom problems. Maybe a break in the routine takes a lot of adjustment and its proving too much? Could it really be that simple?

In other news...

I went to buy some socks on Tuesday. Turned into a bit of an expensive trip. As I was in Corby and the fuel is cheaper there I decided to top the car up, you know, save a couple of bob. On the way home the car seemed to be running a little hot and also seemed to be a little "knocky" under load. As I pulled in the drive it cut out...that was when I realised I had put petrol in my diesel car. Call out. Drain the tank, flush the fuel lines and a new fuel filter. 10 gallons and the call out fee down the drain. Luckily, as it wasn't too much petrol I have escaped any damage to the car. Then to cap it all I had picked up the wrong size socks. Bad day.

Where was I?

Instalment no. 2

The problems we were having with mums blind and the wardrobe doors seem to have abated. Sometimes Mum seems to think that her "little house" is all she has left in the world..she needs reassurance that the rest of the house is still hers to use as she pleases. Every few days she seems very down, almost worried that she will be left on her own with nothing. Hard to describe really. She doesnt have the words to tell us what the problems are, or tell us how we can help. As usual humour seems to be no1 method of rescue followed by loud rousing music, walks, food, a nice cup of tea or a spin in the Jag.


This coming weekend we have yet another party, for Sarahs birthday. Mum is a little excited if unsure where when or why its taking place. She has a new frock and of course ten shiny nails from Rushton Hall. She will be accompanied by the lovely Gentleman who I am sure will be resplendent in a blazer and slacks.


Sarah has a beautiful dress supplied indirectly by one of the countries leading heart surgeons, amazing hair by one of Londons top colourists and twenty nails by Rushton Hall.


I of course will try my best to find two matching socks and an outfit that will cover my rapidly expanding girth. If I have time I may even comb my hair.

Footnote.

Last week was a full year since I had my last cigarette. I smoked at least 20 a day since I was about 14 years old. 

I am now 3.5 stones heavier and still feel like my lungs are full of glue.

On a plus side food tastes absolutely amazing, I smell quite a lot better, and more importantly, I have increased my life expectancy by quite a few years.

I hope to fully reap the rewards this year as I concentrate on shedding those stones and shifting that glue.

Its nice to think there's a good chance I will be around to look after Mum for as long as she needs me.