I'm finding it a bit hard to post anything about the Mater this week.
Another crisis, minor as yet, hit on Friday. The dreaded cellulitis made a return visit and unfortunately wasn't discovered until after the doctor left.
It was a big 'High Tea' afternoon for the wedding but when she was wheeled into the day room, it started spinning so back to bed she went.
That's when they spotted the leg gearing up for another bout of infection.
So she's all alone in her room while the party is in full swing and she said she didn't care.
Not caring about a party is a bad sign.
I stayed for the afternoon/night until she's eaten some food.
I also fixed the mobile phone which, in her delerium the other day, she was playing like a piano.
Fix the simcard, fix the missed calls, fix the date/time and discover she has $26 credit. She used that to ring me in the middle of the wedding. Try holding a cat, ice-cream in a cone and a phone without licking the wrong one.
The chairs down there are hard on the bum even one as padded as mine but what's another 6 hours or so. Three years ago I would have danced a jig if she had dropped dead at my feet. Nasty and vicious with pain and brain half dead, all the regulars know the story but now she's happy. She's busy, she enjoying people, loves going out for coffee and shopping, loves doing craft again and enjoying watching DVDs of shows she hasn't seen for years. Sister can't understand why I bother with buying them, she'll probably only get one watch out of them. Sometimes I could really bitchslap her and enjoy it.
Now I'm trying to deal with her dying because she's my mother again not some evil harriden making my life a misery, well she still can do that but it's not the same as days of old. Can't talk to my sister who doesn't care, can't talk to the BOH who cares way too much. Must stop dealing with it by gambling, eating and spending money. The BOH has been forbidden to take me to the pub, take me to Maccas, but I draw the line at him saying, 'do you really need to buy that?'. That's far too much like the ex. That one is something I'll have to do myself. The depression is such that even his annoying girlfriend isn't annoying me, that's a worry.
A another trip down there tomorrow, hopefully with the $300 worth of DVDs she's looking forward to. And after all the ghastly years since 2006, it's nice to walk in to a cheery face and a welcome.