"'Ello, Darlin'! My name's Carol. It's good to see you!"
Mum beamed. "It's good to see you, too," she said.
"Well, Darlin'," said Carol, "we're going to get to know each other, and we're all here to help you."
"Oh, good," said Mum - now looking a bit apprehensive. I knew what she was thinking. She had just arrived home, in an ambulance, and we were all tucking in to tea and birthday cake; and here was this woman breezily announcing she was 'here to help.'
I was equally worried. As she had been at home for only an hour or so, we hadn't yet reached the point of Mum needing the loo. At this stage, Mum was still able to say when she needed the toilet, knew when she had spent a penny, and washed her hands properly afterwards. As she couldn't walk, and needed to be hoisted in and out of bed, and onto the glider commode to be wheeled in to the bathroom, this was something that would have to be done by the carers. I wasn't trained to use the hoist; in any case, it was a 'double handed' manoeuvre. And we were allotted only four calls a day.
Carol was joined by the second carer and they chatted to Mum, putting her at her ease; after four and a half months in hospital, she accepted she needed some help. Luckily, Mum was ready to have a rest, so she agreed to let Carol and Rita help her back to bed. I think the fear of her ankle giving way on her again overrode the dislike of having someone taking her back to the bedroom, but being hoisted was something Mum absolutely loathed.
We had screams and non-co-operation, but somehow the carers calmed her down, and the process of getting Mum into bed was accomplished.
Carol, ever cheery, said "We'll see you later, Phyllis!"
Mum - settling down in her beautiful new bed, with crisp, white sheets - said, "Oh, that'll be nice....." and was soon having a gentle nap.
The carers were due to come back at 7.30, but some time before then, Mum woke up and demanded to be taken to the bathroom. It was really awful trying to explain why I couldn't do it. I had to remind Mum that if she couldn't wait, she was wearing a pad that would catch everything, and when the carers returned, they would take her to the bathroom.
To begin with, things were really hard. We had a group of good carers who came on a regular basis, but during the first two or three weeks, every call was "new," both for Mum and for us. Like a new ship on sea trials, we all had to learn how everything worked; the carers had to learn how to deal with Mum, and we also understood that although Mum's calls were officially listed at the times we'd asked for, there were many other clients to be visited. Sometimes these other people had problems which the carers had to deal with, which meant Mum's calls ran late. At long last, things settled down, and we got into a routine.
And then things began to improve.
No comments:
Post a Comment