I first want to say a big thank you to all those people who have left me comments, wondering where I have been and how things are in my life. You are all very kind to worry about me. It has been a weird week and a bit. After hearing the news about John, I have been thinking a lot about life and how it is so important to get the most out of it while you can. Consequently I have been worrying less about work, and have been instead concentrating on those around me that I care about; meeting up with friends, spending quality time with my partner and distracting myself from thinking too much by keeping busy busy busy. Also it somehow felt right to leave the blog about John as the first thing people would see when they visited my site. It feels right to move on now.
Here I sit this evening, having a girlie night in on my own. I happened to come across Nigella on the TV earlier, who was irritatingly pretending to use London Buses whilst munching on very scrummy looking home-made (of course) noodle salad. I wonder what she would say about my breakfast habit on the London Buses. Most mornings I take my hot porridge in a plastic tub, with a good dollop of cream stirred in, and eat it on top of the W7 bus to Finsbury Park. This has met the glares and stares of other commuters, but I don’t think it’s as offensive as egg. And I always make sure I sit far away from anyone while I stuff my face. Well, if it’s good enough for Nigella to eat on the bus (yeah right) then it’s good enough for me. I have yet to spill porridge down my bright green home-made scarf. I wonder if Nigella makes her scarves…
Mum remains in hospital. She was to be moved back to the Assessment Centre for Elderly People, where she stayed for a month in July, but the consultant has decided to keep her in the ward until a place comes up at a nursing home. He made the decision based on the fact that her bed is needed and therefore the process should happen more quickly. If she were to go back to the assessment centre, she might be there for some time as less urgency would be required to move her from there. Since she is neither elderly nor in need of assessment, I think he has made the right decision. This is difficult to reconcile when I visit her and can see that her care is being somewhat compromised (hair not being washed regularly, dirty marks on her clothes etc etc). She just needs care, not continuous assessment.
Last Saturday, Gastropunk accompanied me to the hospital. Mum was barely aware of our presence and remained drowsy and unresponsive for our whole visit, apart from her natural reaction to suck from the spoon I was using to help her take liquid with. She needs a spoon because her drink has to now be mixed with this thickener that resembles wall paper paste. She can not swallow easily now and is in danger of choking on fluid which would instead go down to her lungs. I was so glad he came with me as I need the emotional support on visits such as these. I left the hospital feeling little sense of achievement and without a good moment to hold onto.
This Saturday, however, mum was awake when we arrived and managed to be engaged with us for a considerable portion of the time we were there. She likes having her hair brushed and the back of her neck stroked. I like putting hand cream on her that smells of rosemary and lemon and masks the strong smell of hospital on her. I know she would like that smell much better even though that particular sense is now barely working. We took some apple and mango juice with us which she really enjoyed and even said the word “lovely” about. When she recognised me this week, I was so happy. We had a hug and exchanged some kisses and tears rolled down my face quietly, as I reveled in this rare close moment. We then drove on to sunny Derbyshire and ended our weekend in the hills with glorious countryside around us.
