Saturday, July 23, 2011

Bump...bump....bump

That is the sound of the road we are currently travelling down. On arrival at the home I was greeted with a very irate mum, full of complaints about all the things they got wrong over the past 12 hours. They have given her the wrong medication, refused to give her sleeping tablets, messed up her breakfast, kept ignoring her, telling her to wait then never came back, and so on.

One of the first things she said when I got in was, I just want to get out of here. Confused by all the changes, which is understandable, she doesn't want to give things a chance, and would rather just be out of here. Having been here for as long as I can over this period, I haven't seen any real short fallings from the home yet. The meals have looks adequate, in fact more than adequate. The responses to her requests have been fine, and the medication looks right to me. I can comment on the medication as its still sitting in its cup as she has refused to take it again.

Her biggest issue of all is her sleeping tablet. Having gone through this first at home with the carers giving her meds, then with me or Paula giving the meds, over to St Christophers where she still insisted her sleeping tablet was not there, and that they were making her beg them for it, and now to here, where once again they are not giving her the sleeping tablet. Their records show they are, their distribution regime is sound, so there is no reason to believe she didn't have it. Not to mention she admits she slept and is fresh this morning.

Rough times are ahead, and this is gonna be a serious PITA battle to keep her calm enough to give the place a fair chance, and consider staying. But that said, this is typical of mum to be like this. I have already seen the bed punching this morning, as I dared to suggest she just had not realised that they had given her the sleeping tablet, big mistake!

So now, for a while we have escaped the boundaries of the home and come up the road, away from it, just up to my sisters old school. All was well until she reached into her pockets and realised while muddling about last night she had taken her lighter out of her pocket. Distress has hit hard, so back we go to the home to get her a lighter. *sigh

Right, back out again now, and the nicotine is flowing, a moment of relief. When we first went out, the sister and the care team all asked if she was going out for a cigarette, when I said yes, they all smiled and laughed, maybe a little relief washed over them. I said expect mum back a little calmer, and a little happier. So at least they understand that part of her. For now we are perched on a wall down the road from the home, mum recharging herself. *phew

One of the other things from this morning was another bit of confusion from mum. Trying to get into the wheelchair and get the foot rests down, sadly by lifting them. That was never going to work, but it was enough to provoke a "look how tired I am" comments from mum.
The final part was irritation with the staff. She buzzed to ask to be got washed, wee'ed and dressed. The carer came straight away and took her to the bathroom on the walker. On their return to the room the carer observed that mum was breathless, so said I will let you catch your breath, then come and help you dress in 10 mins. As she walked out mum said " and that's all they do, say they will come back and never do". After reading the paper for five mins she then decided she wanted to get dressed, so tryed to start doing so. Within the ten mins the carer returned, surprised mum had started without her, but praised her for her efforts and helped her finish off.

Here's to hoping the next day or so will see some changes. Fingers crossed she will be more relaxed by this evening.

Thanks for reading
Regards
Michael

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