I left in a cab about 3 after grabbing a sandwich to take with me but she didn't arrive back at the Home until 7.30 last night. I put my feet up in the Lavender Room, with my sour dough bread salad sanger (delicious)(no cake, Annie) settled down with the almost mine cat. Perfect hideout from Annie Joyce who was overjoyed her bestie was coming back and was shouting it into every room.
Perfect view of the latest resident escapee. She'd been past me 3 times to test the door and got very pissed every time I told her it was locked. I don't know which door she eventually found open but she was off like the roadrunner past the window followed by two carers. Boy she was fast, by the time they caught her she had one leg halfway up the fence. While they were checking the doors, she bolted again.
Mum said it was good to be back but she was absolutely exhausted. She was still exhausted today but at least she'd had a complete wash and her own pillow and several slaves attending.
They didn't wash her at the hospital, not even face and hands nor were there any wipes for her to use. She's supposed to go back and attend a clinic for a check-up but she's not leaving her bed for any reason, full stop, end of story.
And Doc Marvin, he was at her bedside 15 minutes after she arrived back. Checked all her medications, gave her loads of confidence which she needed. I don't care how much he charges, he's worth more.
I might have mentioned before how our family doesn't do kissing. My father had TB and was always conscious of how easily it's passed on even though he hadn't had it for 40 years. I made the mistake of kissing mum goodbye at the hospital so she spent all night waiting to die. Memo to self, keep calling her old bat and no kissing.
It'll take a few weeks but The Terminator will be baaack.
But I'm no Sarah Connor, I'm spending the weekend in bed.
18 comments:
All good news. Sounds like the 'home' is the best place for her to be.
I'll have some cake on your behalf if you like.
Nice to hear Mum is back where she feels most comfortable and gold stars for Doc Marvin.
Why did she not get a wash at the hospital? Surely a hands and face freshening would have done her some good, even emotionally.
Anyway, that's past history now, you can both rest comfortably, with or without cake.
Yay. And bed sounds the right place for both of you.
And someone should clone Doctor Marvin. There are not many like him around. Not nearly enough.
Mother
When you were young
Spring was sprung.
Mother
There is no other
Only one.
-Rochester.
She's tough, no doubt about it.
You deserve cake and it's just very sad that it is not in your best interest yet; and as River said, Doc Marvin is a marvel. The nursing system is no longer a marvel with them all graduating from 'university' and getting airs. Remember Nurses Aides?
They used to do all the little things that made a hospital stay bearable.
The Bolter had her leg up the fence? jeepers.X X X
Kath, by all means have cake for me but wait until you visit Vienna and then I want full reviews of every mouthful.
River, the aftermath is now beginning.
She needs to get back control. She's shit scared of being permanently in bed so back to the wheel chair too soon. She had me every day and wants that now. She wants her short term memory re-booted. She needs the Home routine back her way.
I've been here before, I know the drill and I'll turn up when I feel like it.
EC, he'll have a fit at my sugar levels and blood pressure and it's not eating, it's stress. Honestly by Saturday I felt as though I'd been beaten with large sticks but it was just the muscles relaxing.
Link, they're good technician nurses but the condition they're treating is all they're concerned with. Same with the doctors, if they're treating germs they don't look at lung rot.
Rochester, she's for sale, any price.
Annie O, nursing aides, now called Div 2 nurses aren't in the budget for this place. They're all in nursing homes and geriatric wards doing Div 1 work but getting crap wages. 35 years experience my sister has and nearly at retirement they made her take the course for medication hand out which would have cost her $6000 except for a loophole she exploited and paid nothing.
We have 4 new residents, 2 quiet and 2 bolters, life is fun.
Not relevant to this matter (or maybe it is) yesterday after seeing two fat dykes stomp hand in hand through Northcote plaza (what would mother make of that!) I went with my friend (a psychotic man) to MacDonalds where after a feed I let my head go and ordered a small coffee ($3.75). WELL!- total astonishment among the staff, fresh-faced little girls knocked sideways by this strange request! $3.75. Hell, what confusion, I had to wait fifteen minutes for one of them to creep up to the machine and turn it on.
Well darlings, life is an unknown, be careful what you order, you might get it.
-ROBBBERRRRT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Please look after yourself. I have been there and how well I remember the stress, and the pain it causes. I have no doubt the saintly Dr Marvin will cut you some slack for a little while.
Not relevant to this matter but the queers and spongers at the CCU Wood Street Preston have landed my monkey (psychotic friend) who plays with his cock twenty-four hours a day and is being used as a lab rat and learning experience for wide-eyed apprentice snoops and busybodies - A QUESTIONAIRE! Yes, another one.
"Do you feel you are able to handle money?"
"To what extent do you feel lack of self confidence?"
"Do you feel bad about yourself?"
"Do you have disturbing or unreal thoughts?"
"Do you hear voices or see things?"
And so on....
At the bottom there's a box for him to make a comment. I wrote:
I AM A PERVERT.
He hands it in tomorrow.
Irrelevant to this posting are the homosexuals and batty old ladies I had as probationary officers but child welfare and mental health were a disgrace then and are a disgrace now hiring the same sort of useless or predatory vermin. When I worked at Mont Park nuthouse handing out medication half the staff were homo and lesbian. The charge nurse got me sacked when she found out I'd spent a night in the cells meanwhile she the dirty old DYKE continued her game of touching up all the young female patients "Givvus a hug!" I've nothing moral against these freaks who are mental cases themselves except they shouldn't be there. You can see the problem. Community Services employs homosexuals, spongers, and batty old lady social workers who should have been given the arse years ago.
Opening my big trap about a night in the cells gave the dirty old dyke its chance because what really upset it was a Sri Lankan nurse in Ward MF 12 who made it clear she was keen on me.
Robbert, you must have the most highly developed gaydar in Melbourne but just because you think they're gay doesn't mean they are. On the other hand, anybody can pick out a batty old lady in a twinkling. "I am a pervert" is so clinical. Why didn't you say "I am a doddle diddler", so much wittier and would take them a day or two to work it out.
He can't be all bad, I hear voices and have very disturbing thoughts about you but I don't see you, thank the goddess.
Pardon me, when a bloke squeals "OOOOOH what a good looking ma-a-a-an!" I know he's a poof.
The place was swarming with them, it was a club, they were the only bods who could come to work hungover from the night before and be allowed to sleep it off in the ECT room.
Well look, I don't care about them, either way, but I'll tell you this, homosexuals as a group will shun outsiders as much as any other group will. Don't tell me, I know.
Wake up to yourself. You've made two comments running. Have a look at the photo of Sixth in Line's hubby on her blog. I said he looks like a queer and she won't print it. So much for free speech.
"doddle diddler" shows you don't know these people, they're excitable. Visitng his place one night they asked what he'd been doing all day. "Choking the parrot," he told them. Back at Wood Street they reported him as strangling a bird.
Having just one single worry is a collosal burden. You need more, a variety.
Moving from one to the other relieves the mind.
I'm sure my efforts here (giving you another thing to worry about) has distracted from your worry about mother.
-Robert.
"Choking the parrot", a new one for my book.
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