I have sat down several times during the last couple of weeks, intending to update this blog, but each time I have struggled to put more than two sentences together. Despite this, the site still appears to be attracting visitors. Whoever you are, I thank you for your loyalty.
Once my mother was on her feet, her recovery seemed to gain momentum. She dispensed with the dreaded Zimmer frame within a week and, using a simple stick, was soon able to negotiate first the first floor passage, then a flight of stairs. The effort exhausted her, of course, as she was still eating very little: ‘Build Up’ soups and my homemade sandwiches being the preferred menu. Then there was a real setback when Mum’s wound (still not completely healed after her July operation) developed an abscess and had to be cut open again! Nevertheless, having been cleaned up by some friendly maggots, we were finally given a discharge date of 17th December. And so it was that, last Thursday, Mum and I boarded the 3.30pm Portsmouth Fishbourne ferry, and I brought her home.
I never really saw myself as a nurse or even a particularly good housekeeper, but, for the time being, this is my new vocation. Though I must say the community health services here in the Isle of Wight have proved spectacularly efficient. Within 24 hours of our arrival, we had had a visit from Mum’s GP and a screening call from the Occupational Therapists with the offer of immediate loan equipment from the local Red Cross. The District Nurse confirmed that she would be visiting the following morning, and the Stoma Nurse rang to welcome Mum home and made an appointment for Monday, and the Physiotherapists rang to apologise for the service being closed over Christmas, but promised they would be in touch the first week in January
It felt good to know that I wasn’t on my own, particularly as I have had to leave John behind in London, overseeing the last of the redecorating work. For the time being Mum is still too weak to be left alone for more than an hour or so at a time, so JR is tasked with dressing the house for the market. An onorous responsibility, as he frequently reminds me that “real men don’t plump cushions”. Naturally, I, in all my feminine wisdom, have left him with a mountain of them, all carefully colour-coordinated, together with a substantial collection of vases, ornaments and pictures. In an ideal world, I would be there to tell John which rooms they were intended for. Instead, we have Skype and a webcam.
Neither Mum nor I have spent Christmas in the Isle of Wight for at least 15 years, and John has never spent Christmas here. The discharge date came too late for us to make any social arrangements, so this year will be rather different to past Christmasses. We haven’t sent any cards and presents have been kept to the edible or drinkable kind only. Even so, I have a feeling that this year will be one of the best.
I am looking forward to John’s arrival tomorrow, when we will be sure to raise a glass to all our friends and wish you all a very merry Christmas and a happy, healthy and peaceful New Year.