WHEN BEING TIRED MOVES TO MELTDOWN

So I was tired on Monday, big deal. Last night I went beyond tired and my body and mind just decided to go into meltdown to tell me to take a breather.

Mum loves the home but is taking time to adjust to the changed circumstances. Most independent people take at least three months to do this. The two arthritis conditions have acclerated to the stage where she can't walk and now uses a wheelchair. I watched her yesterday trying to stand and she tried her best but when I went back in the afternoon, she was in a lot of pain.

She was offered another room but declined because she loves her small corner. Everyone has turns to go first and last to the showers and she waited for her turn being warmed by the morning sun, watching the flowers and birds in the garden. She hates the dining room but goes anyway, if she feels like it. She's still giving me orders but I just told her to wheel over and get her own comb to do her hair. I think it's been made easier for her because of something the doctor said in the hospital, that we would no longer be her carers but would become her family again. It's true, even my sister says she enjoys the visits because Mum is not struggling so much and her thoughts have become more lucid. I put this down to the constant stream of people in and out of her life now.

Sis and I still can't believe our good luck, on getting our first pick of nursing home, on it being so quick, on the mental improvement to the old girl and the tension of three years finally letting up.

Since Monday I've been on the finances treadmill.
The Council (meals and cleaning) were happy to take small amounts until the account is settled, ditto the pharmacy.
The rates will still be paid fortnightly.
The insurance paid once a month and all is fine as long as someone is living in the house and please send us your Power of Attorney.
The Mastercard was a big worry. Too much for us to find once a month but their hardship department couldn't have been nicer. Just name a figure that you can manage and pay it on the same day each month. The account is temporarily closed and no further interest to go on it.

But our favourite company, the one we all love to hate and where Hal the mad computer is finishing out his days and causing trouble. AGL, the Devil's playground. After spending ages on the phone with a follow up call the next day, I obtained the billings codes so we could make extra payments to drop the amount owing. Good plan, bad execution. According to the lovely gentleman I phoned this week (because the direct debits hadn't come out of the bank again) the computer simply took our extra payments as the now and future direct debits, which means we've not paid extra at all. When I asked why I wasn't told this at the time, he said probably because the young people at the call centre don't know it. Jeebus, Mariah and Josepha, can't somebody send a memo in that place?

Now all I have to do is wait for the Centrelink assessment and assorted paperwork and we'll know if she has to pay more than 85% of her pension to the home. With the rent from the BrickOutHouse and any left from the pension, we won't have to sell her home.

And I've put on 6 kilos in the last 5 weeks. It's going to be hard to take off. I have to walk past the bakery in Mentone that makes the best shortcrust apple cakes in Melbourne. If I take the shortcut through the lane, I come out smack dab in front of Baker's Delight where the wafting smells of custard scrolls and date scones ambush me. Donations of will power will be gratefully received.