There is a Palliative team coming on Monday to install a little morphine machine somewhere on Mother. She has morphine when she needs it but it's another jab, clothes have to be moved, sheets and pillows then all has to be put back just right so it's not a quick thing.
I go down about 1, after lunch when everything is more or less done and I'm not in the way but the RN says she loves the way she settles down when I walk in the door. I don't take a book but have several magazines, reading a book seems to say I'm here but don't bother me but I can show her pretty pictures in a magazine and she enjoys that. She drops off to sleep after a while but still can't breathe very well especially when some twit puts the wrong size tube on the oxygen machine or turns it off completely when reaching for another bell. They don't get away with much, I've been there too long.
She's now finding it hard to swallow food and I had a stoush with an officious little bimbo who insisted on shoving food into her as though she was a starving baby bird. The bimbo learned to listen when she found herself on the end of a projectile vomit.
I've been taking little things home with me and she gave most of her craft cards to her sister when she came last week. And speaking of cards, I found one large one in 3 envelopes, she'd written on the front, in spidery writing, 'don't ever lose this' and when I finally opened the 3rd envelope I found a beautiful card. Thank you Annie O'Dyne, she loved that card so much she resisted the urge to cut it up and re-use it.
Weekends are always dreary at the Home so I'm having breakfast, feeding the cat and watching the news and no doubt will fall asleep in the chair and wake up in time to head out.
The cat is not speaking to me, how dare I leave him alone for weeks. So he gets an extra can of food before I leave. I thought I might have lost him last night. We had one wild clap of thunder which felt right over the house, all the lights went and I grabbed the big torch. I looked for the cat and he was flat on the floor like a Bear rug and not moving. As soon as he saw the light he was up on my knee and stayed there until all the lights came back. And then I got a look that said 'what did you do that for?' I'm glad cats can't talk, I couldn't stand the guilt.
Another update at some stage. Doc Marvin, gem, an absolute gem. I'm sorry I can't share him with the bloggers who need a doctor like him.
7 comments:
Hang in as best you can. And look after yourself. Which includes treats as and when appropriate.
I hope that she who was vomited on DOES learn her lesson.
And wish that you could clone Doc Marvin.
Just hang in there like you've been doing, be as much comfort as you can, but look after yourself too. Bear needs you. We need you. Thank heavens for Doc Martin.
I remember when my mum was unable to swallow, people and carers would visit and ask "have you had your bowels open today?" and bring her little treats to help that along. None of them realised that there was nothing to pass out because she couldn't eat, I had to tell them myself to stop bringing food. When she couldn't even let coffee dribble down her throat, she took herself to hospital and a week later my brother held her hand as she died.
I had to sign the Palliative paper yesterday, Saturday to show that I understood what was not to be done and the only one I can remember is not to be sent to hospital.
Doc Marvin saw her on Friday night and ordered the team in for Saturday not Monday.
One injection of morphine and she slept for hours without jerking awake or shaking and her breathing was still hard to do but at least she slept. She didn't want to eat at all and I told everyone who could hear that no-one wants to eat stewed Camel. I tasted a bit and it was so tough we could have paved a road with it.
I resisted the fruit cake and the mince pies have not arrived, probably floating across the border.
That was poetic justice for the one who tormented your Mum. We need a Doc Marvin here as our doctor has done his rural service and moved on.Best wishes to you and the beautiful Ice Bear.
This will be a difficult Christmas for you. Corny perhaps but reach out to us all to hold your hand.
Cheryl G, Karma will get you everytime. By the time I left tonight she was on the way and the Bethlehem RN said not many days. Everyone moves my chair far too close to her bed and I get up and put it back just to the left at the bottom, she knows I'm there, it's where I'm always sitting and I can see what is happening to her in detail. And beside when the Angels get there I don't want to be in the way.
Andrew, dear sweet boy, are you inviting me to Christmas dinner to cheer me up? I promise not to sexually harrass R. Honest, you won't even see me drop that Rohypnal in your drink.
oh darling Copperwitch we cannot be sad when the lovely morphia releases all the pain.
and damn sisters.
love & encouragement from me.
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