Changes

So, a lot has happened since my last post. Mum ended up being in hospital for ten days due to her low sodium level. She was discharged on 17 July but that ten days was an absolute rollercoaster.

The effects of her low sodium were frailty and difficulty in moving about plus, more alarmingly, a reduction in her cognitive function. This was tough to deal with and I touched on this in my previous post.

The time she spent in hospital was a tough experience for both her and us. A lot of the time she didn't really know what was going on around her and it was like hell on earth in there at times. Without wanting to sound horrible, she was surrounded by very old, very ill old ladies and this probably didn't do her mental state much good either. She couldn't sleep at night because of other patients wailing and screaming through the night and some wandering around the ward in a state of confusion. At times she started hallucinating that it was her doing the wailing (even while I was sat at her bedside).

For a lot of the time she was literally sat all day doing nothing until visiting time about 3pm. They fitted her with an adult nappy so she didn't even have to think about going to the toilet. This only served to worsen her mental state really. At times I felt anger about the situation but I don't blame the NHS staff I appreciate these poor people are operating in an environment with ever increasing workloads and ever decreasing staffing levels. They simply don't have the time to care for each patient individually 24/7. I left that hospital in tears on more than one occasion. There were days when I just couldn't see Mum ever coming out of there again.

But, mercifully, her sodium level finally crept up after endless Sodium Chloride drips and tablets and her mobility and cognition returned to something resembling normal. There's a saying about people who stay in hospital for long periods becoming 'institutionalised' and we had that fear for Mum. She got to the point where she would constantly need to be told what she had to do next and every time I left her at the end of visiting time she would be fretting about what she would do after I'd gone. Once her cognition had improved we would leave her with little lists of things to do, just small things like walking up and down the ward, doing 'stand up/sit down' exercises, a crossword, writing stuff down etc, just little things that would occupy her without having to ask someone all the time or worry about it.

Anyway, she's out of hospital now, but sadly, unable to live by herself anymore. She lived at home independently with no problem for 23 years after my Dad passed away but unfortunately she's currently not mobile or strong enough to do that. Plus with her chemo regime she has to visit hospital twice a week and needs reliable transport.

So, changes afoot, myself and one of my brothers will now be her full time carers, split between us, she'll live with me at my house in Kent for 2 weeks (which, geographically isn't ideal given her hospital is in East London) then 2 weeks at her own house with my brother and so on.

During the 2 weeks with me I'll be unable to work so this is a big change in my life situation and it's a bit daunting but it's a situation we don't really have a lot of choice in. My brother lives in Devon and will travel up to Mum's for his 'stints' every two weeks so, whilst he's retired and doesn't have a work situation to consider, it's still a big change for him too.

The saying about being afraid of change has never felt so relevant as it does to me at present but life has a habit of throwing curve balls at you from time to time. Hopefully we can bat this one out of the park but at the moment we're at the plate awaiting the first pitch (apologies for the corny analogy!).

New situations, new routines. Time will tell.