A Topsy-Turvey Week

A Topsy-Turvey Week

On Tuesday, 20 February, because I was due to lead another session of a poetry group called The Redbridge Rhymesters, I was up very bright and early, getting a head start on the day. All the poets are over 55, and are very imaginative and creative people; because we were going to be joined by children from a local primary school, it was sure to be an exciting workshop. The children have taken part before, and it is wonderful to have an intergenerational meeting of minds; it also gives everyone a chance to learn how people from different eras and places can be encouraged to share their knowledge through reminiscing about past experiences, and preserve it through the medium of poetry.

So, I was up with the lark. I had everything ready for Mum; toothpaste and toothbrush for her teeth, cornflakes in the bowl for breakfast, and the four pills she takes every morning; but then came a problem.

The carers arrived, to get Mum up and washed, but Mum was determinedly fast asleep, and it was one of those times when they could not wake her up. They decided to give her a bed bath, get her all fresh and changed into clean clothes, and see how she was, later on.  During all this, Mum did not rouse, and I considered whether I should actually be away for the morning.

We never leave Mum on her own; one member of the family is with her at all times, and everything was organised for me to be away from home for a few hours, but I was still in two minds about it.

The carers were clear: "It's something you love doing. Your Mum is not going to be on her own, so go and enjoy it."

With that in mind, I set off, and it was a wonderful time, with poems on the theme of Food - some serious, some thoughtful, some funny! It was good to have a complete change of scene.

I hoped Mum had woken up for her breakfast but, as I walked back to the car, my mobile rang, with the news that when the carers had arrived for the next call, Mum had still been fast asleep. They decided to call an ambulance and get Mum checked up in hospital. Mum wasn't on her own and had company for the journey; I said I would go straight to the hospital as well.

I got to A&E and found Mum - or rather, I heard her first, in a bay down the corridor, screaming as the nurse tried to get a cannula into a vein on her left arm. The cannula went in a little way, but it was painful, and Mum promptly pulled it out! so they tried to find a suitable vein on her right arm. This time they managed to get three phials of blood, but Mum wouldn't tolerate the cannula being left in.

It was same story as we have had before. After being so fast asleep, as soon as she was in the ambulance and on the way to hospital, Mum woke up.

Whilst she was in A&E, other tests were carried out: an ECG proved normal, the blood tests came back O.K., and I was very pleased to learn her iron level had also gone up to 10.6 - a big improvement on the September 2017 results. (Mum has always said, she doesn't like spinach, but "Popeye's Cabbage" must be having some sort of positive effect!)

A nurse went through a questionnaire with Mum, to test for dementia, and I was pleasantly surprised at how well she did.  She could still count backwards (this time from only 20!) and knew her age and date of birth, and who was head of the Monarchy - some of these questions never change! It was clear her short term memory was very poor, because she could not remember answers to questions she asked the nurses, and kept asking them the same thing, over and over again.

The doctor was very thorough, and said it was possible Mum could be suffering from a urine infection - they hadn't been able to get a sample but, to be on the safe side, he would prescribe antibiotics for her. He also pointed out that hospitals are not always the best places for elderly folk like Mum, to be in; there are so many illnesses being treated, and it's easy for vulnerable people to pick up infections. He suggested that in future, if Mum was having a sleepy day, but appeared well in all other respects, it might be better to allow her wake up naturally, when she has had enough sleep. .

Everything went very quickly then; I got the prescription for more amoxicillin and transport was ordered to take Mum home. She got back at 7.00 p.m., by which time I had also collected the medicine, and got the dinner on.

With Mum settled back in her chair, she tucked into her usual hearty dinner, followed by After 8 mints, and rounded off by a sing song round the piano.

It was not quite the reasonably gentle day I had hoped for, but it was good to know Mum had been checked over and pronounced fit to go home. That was (very) "Tired Tuesday."

The next couple of days, Wednesday and Thursday were fairly normal for Mum, with regular naps in between meals; and then we got to Friday and Saturday, and found Mum in a completely different, extremely energetic mood.

She was so full of whizz and zip, she hardly slept at all during the day; she was chatty, ready for her meals, ate well (and quite quickly), and sang with great gusto afterwards. We watched some of the competitors at the Winter Olympics, on t.v. - she especially enjoyed the skating, with the music and glamourous costumes, and was following it all.

Because I tend to go to bed late (or early, depending on which way you look at it - usually at about 2.00 a.m.) I check on Mum two or three times before I turn in.  On the Saturday night, she was quietly awake, when I looked in on her.

"What time is it?" Mum asked.

"It's 1.30 in the morning, Ma," I said. "I'm just off to bed now."

Mum said, "Good night, have a good night....."   a lovely, normal remark.

"Night-night to you, too," I said, and went off to bed.

After 48 or more hours of very little sleep, it didn't come as too much of a surprise when, on Sunday morning, Mum was once again fast asleep when the carers arrived to get her up. They decided to leave her where she was, gave her a bed bath and changed her clothes. To give her a chance to catch up on some sleep, we cancelled the mid-morning call, and by lunch time, she was ready to get up and sit in her chair.

Mum was awake for a while, and enjoyed her dinner, but after that she began to flag. She wanted to go back to bed for another nap, and that is what she did. When the carers returned to get her up for supper, she was sleeping so gently, we left her warm and comfy to snooze on.

It was a Topsy-Turvey week, veering from very sleepy indeed to hyper-activity, and we are still learning to go with the flow.