I Spoke Too Soon...!

I Spoke Too Soon...!

Ah. Yes. Well...

After a time when things had been just jogging along gently, and I felt I could write about feeling relaxed, the next day was as if someone had tipped a load of extra problems into a giant mixing bowl, and was enjoying stirring everything up.

First thing in the morning, Mum's clothes and entire set of bed-linen needed changing: not just the usual flat top sheet (I put a fresh one of those out every day), she had soiled the lot, including her nightie. This meant an awful lot of sterilising and pre-washing, before it could go in the washing machine. In addition, the sling was wet; this must be laundered at a lower temperature than the rest of the stuff, and it takes a long time to dry. I got that on first.

Happily, it was a beautifully warm and sunshiny day; a few hours out on the line, blowing in the warm breeze, and later that afternoon, the sling was dry.

If a washing machine had feelings, I imagine after dealing with the loads it coped with today, it would be wiping its mechanical brow and saying, "Thank goodness that's over!" I was certainly relieved to have got it everything washed and on the line.

The second problem was with Pushkin, one of our pussy cats. Last night, when I was ironing, she lay down by my feet as usual; I took off my shoes, tickling her ears with my toes. She can stand this attention for hours! As I finished the ironing, she curled up in the corner by the radiator, just as she normally does, and was soon fast asleep. Pushkin does not have a voice - she cannot meow - but when she sleeps, and probably dreaming, she makes little noises. Maybe she is chasing mice, or on other important business, but this evening, I thought her chirrups seemed to be coming a little faster than usual.

When I stroked her to say goodnight, she seemed fine, but in the morning she was lying very still, and breathing so shallowly, at first we thought she might have died.

She was off her food, she was sick and had diarrhoea, so we realised it could be quite serious. I rang the vet's surgery, and got an appointment for later in the morning.

Then Mum had to be attended to. We divided up the jobs equally; after washing her hands and getting her teeth brushed, I made the breakfast and helped Mum to eat her cornflakes and drink her tea, whilst another family member rushed Pushkin to the vet.

I could tell Mum was also very uncomfortable. She kept moving her legs up and down, and I thought something must be hurting her.

"Have you got any pain anywhere?" I asked.

"Yes, I do," she said.

"Where does it hurt, Ma?"

"My ankle."

Well, she couldn't have been more precise than that, so I checked her left ankle, and I was really worried to see the ankle bone appeared to be sticking out far more than it had done before.

Ever since the operation back in November 2011 to insert a metal strip and screws, we have known the result wasn't perfect. The surgeon told us Mum's bones were like crumbly cheese; they had done their best, but Mum was left with some dislocation. We have always been very careful not to damage the area in any way; we check her legs every night, and I was sure her ankle had not been like that when she went to bed.

As it was a bank holiday weekend, there was no point in trying to get it checked out until Tuesday; maybe another X-ray will be required. In the meantime, we gently wrapped a bandage round her ankle, covering the bone, which will give it some support and protection until we can call Mum's GP.

I gave Mum a couple of paracetamols in water - because they are effervescent, Mum calls it "fizzy-pop"! - and presently the carers returned to get Mum back into bed for her afternoon nap.

The news on Pushkin was that her temperature was slightly raised, and she was obviously distressed. Poor little thing - she is such an inoffensive little cat, and it's awful to think she is unwell. The vet took a blood test, and said she would call us at home, as soon as she had the results.

Pushkin was very glad to be home again, and came to sit beside me; I was prepared to tickle her ears with my toes, but she was not up even for that favourite pastime.

When the vet rang, she said Pushkin has hyperthyroidism, which is fairly common in older cats; her white blood count was raised as well, so she is probably fighting an infection. We arranged another appointment for later in the day, and at that consultation, the vet gave Pushkin an injection of antibiotics, so hopefully that should start to make her feel better soon. We can't get Pushkin to take tablets, and the vet said there is an alternative medication for the thyroid problem, in the form of a cream, which we must rub into the skin on the inside of Pushkin's ears, twice a day. This medicine is dearer than tablets, but it is no use having pills if we can't get Pushkin to swallow them.  The vet will order the cream and it should arrive in a few days.

After all this, everyone ended up feeling, "Please, can it stop now? And can we have break?!"

On a happier note, Mum had a good afternoon kip - she woke up smiling, and happy, and did not complain at all about her ankle; she enjoyed all her dinner.

Pushkin, waiting for her dinner!

Pushkin also started to perk up a bit, and had something to eat. We are all just so happy that the moment we could see something was not right, we took her to the vet straight away - time can be of the essence!

Living in Boring Times!

Living in Boring Times!

Since we got back home from Brisbane - (over six weeks ago now; my, how time does fly!) - I've been gradually catching up with everything I left behind when Wendy and I flew out to see Uncle John. This evening, I have actually finished ironing everything in sight (which is a new take on the old military instruction: "If it moves, salute it; if it doesn't, paint it." I don't paint, I iron it! ) and it's a very satisfying feeling to know all Mum's clothes are dried, pressed and aired, and ready to wear. What I must not do now, is become complacent, and rest on my laurels when, on the morrow, the next load of washing comes out of the machine; the moment everything is dry, I shall get on with ironing it, and maintain the momentum.

Apart from a few episodes, Mum has on the whole been very co-operative. Today was a lovely day, because this morning, at 9.30 UK time, I rang the Nursing Home in Jindalee, where Uncle John is being very well looked after. A lovely nurse took a phone with a loudspeaker button to Uncle John, and he could hear me very clearly; Mum was also up and dressed, and sitting in her chair, so she was able to talk to Uncle John as well.

"Hello, Johnny-Boy!" This is her usual greeting.

"Oh, hello Phyllis!" Uncle John came back.

"I'm going to have my breakfast," said Mum.

Uncle John knows Mum so well: "I know what you're having!" he said, "you're having cornflakes, aren't you?"

"I am!" Mum confirmed.

It is just so good to have a normal, simple conversation for a few minutes; quiet, boring times are far nicer and easier to live through, than so-called "interesting" times.

Mum has still not really taken in how ill Uncle John is, although she does have flashes of understanding; she is still talking about going out to Australia, and seeing him.

A couple of days ago, Mum announced:

"The Prince is coming to visit us; and when we go to Australia, the Prime Minister is coming round to see us!"

Then she added, "I've got a very good job, now! They've moved me to another board room."

A little pause, then: "But it's very hard."

Family: "But I'm sure you're very good at it."

Mum: "I like it, because I can clean my teeth better!"

There are occasions now where she asks me to tell her again, just what is the matter with Uncle John? and I explain gently, he is very ill, but because he is being looked after extremely well, he's doing much better than anyone thought he would. Being transferred from a palliative care ward in a hospital to a nursing home, is definitely a step up!

"Oh, so he's getting better, then?"

As no-one can say with certainty how long anyone will live for, I agree with her, and leave it at that.

Sightseeing Singapore - Monday

Sightseeing Singapore - Monday

Singapore had one more dramatic scene for us: during the night, there was a heavy thunderstorm - Thor was definitely throwing his anvil about above the clouds, and the lightning was spectacular. The rain wasn't light, either!

Come the morning, the fog and mist had also descended:

At first glance, Wendy thought one of the buildings must be on fire! but it was just the sun piercing parts of the cloud and reflecting on the windows.

Sadly, that put paid to the idea of a ride on the Ferris wheel, the Singapore Flyer - another case of, "We'll do that, next time."

We took it easy in the morning; showered, dressed, make-up on (!) and packed, all by 10.00 a.m., when our breakfast arrived. Back home, Wendy works so hard, and we knew we faced a long trip back to England, so we chilled and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast.

We checked out at midday, and left our cases at reception. It is too hot and humid to leave clothes packed up and left in the outside temperature, so Wendy requested our baggage be kept in the cool room.

We went for a stroll round Suntec City, shop window gazing as we went; beautiful jewellery, and beautiful handbags, and a shop that specialised in very glamorous gowns! Officially wedding dresses, they could also fit the bill as gorgeous costumes on stage for a cabaret performance. I dared to ask the price, and was amazed to find one of the most expensive cost S$349 - In England I would be looking at three times the price. One day I shall go back, with an empty suitcase, and fill it up!

Back at the Pan Pacific, there was a cream tea on offer. However, anyone who knows me is aware I am very picky about sandwiches (even at the Ritz, Mum and I have a special request for plain cucumber sandwiches, on white bread and butter), and we didn't want everything that was included on the menu here. The waitress suggested we could order a couple of plain scones instead; these would be specially made for us, and ready we wanted them, at 3.30 p.m.

I'd had my fill of gallivanting. The receptionist gave me a copy of The Straits Times, and I sat reading, or just watching the world go by and enjoying my surroundings, whilst Wendy went off for another wander round the shops.

An indoor stream in the Pan Pacific

Futuristic lifts! It's quite fun ascending to the 26th floor

It also gave me time to reflect on the ten days we had been away from home. If the past few posts have begun to read like a travelogue, it's probably because it has been so long since I've had a proper holiday, and I've gone a bit detail-crazy. I felt sad thinking of Uncle John in Brisbane, but very happy that I had seen him.

Wendy returned in good time for our tea; the scones arrived, complete with cream and strawberry jam, and pots of tea and extra hot water. The only problem was, we should have asked how big the scones were! Had we known they were very delicate (i.e., tiny!) we would have ordered half a dozen each.

Never mind. They were delicious, and melted on the tongue.

After tea, we collected our luggage and went up to the Hospitality Suite, which Wendy had pre-booked. It was beautifully appointed, with an en-suite bathroom and a pile of fluffy towels and toiletries. We spent nearly an hour showering, freshening up and preparing for the flight, and I tried to take an old-fashioned selfie - i.e., a photo in the mirror:

Next time, I'll remember to keep my head up!

The taxi came on time; when we arrived at the airport, we took our cases to be cling film wrapped for added security, and checked in.  Going through passport control was followed by a tense moment or three for me - the automatic screen could not read my thumb print! A charming (and still smiling) officer escorted me to another counter, where I was asked to try again, impressing my thumb on the screen. This one was obviously a bit more sensitive; this time, it read my print correctly, but I was then asked to provide further finger and thumb prints of both hands. At moments like these, I experience dark fears of what might happen if this more sophisticated machine still does not recognise me, but the officers assured me this occurs sometimes. All was well; I was waved through and joined Wendy - she looked a tad relieved, too!

Flying back to London always takes longer than the outbound journey; headwinds conspire to add another hour or two to the flight, but we settled down and the time passed, punctuated by sleeps, food, walks up and down the aisles and (for me) another couple of films, although by the time we were nearing Heathrow, I was so heavy-lidded, I wasn't sure if I'd manage to finish watching the second picture.

We landed, collected the suitcases, loaded up the car and (how she keeps going, I don't know) Wendy drove us home.

It took me a good two days to get over the jet-lag; I tried to do as much as I possibly could to get back into the usual routine, but I had to give in on a few occasions, and let someone else carry on!

Mum was pleased to see me, but I'm not sure how much she remembers about me being away, or why I went to Brisbane in the first place. I told her about Uncle John, and sometimes she knows and remembers how, where and why he is in hospital, and at other times it comes as a new piece of information.

When I think back on this trip, and all Wendy and I have achieved, I am just so pleased I was able to go with her. We had the worry about if we could be sure we'd be told how Uncle John was progressing, and a minor battle to get our names and contact details on the forms; we saw him in Princess Alexandra Hospital, and transferred to St Vincent's Hospital; celebrating my birthday with Uncle John was a highlight, as was Wendy taking me to so many places she and Uncle John love visiting.

But the best memory is seeing the expression on Uncle John's face, that first day when we walked into the ward at Princess Alexandra Hospital, and when he said, he had never thought he would ever see me, ever again; and he had never expected to see Wendy back in Brisbane again, either.

Sightseeing in Singapore - Sunday Afternoon/Evening

Sightseeing in Singapore - Sunday Afternoon/Evening

After the tour, it wasn't far to walk to Raffles Hotel; it is due to reopen later this year, but there is still a lot of scaffolding in place, and a lot of work to be done.

The Long Bar has been open again for a while but, since refurbishment, we thought it had lost some of its charm, and felt rather sterile. It's hard to quantify it, but the old bar had a certain feeling of permanence,, and the thick covering of peanut shells on the floor looked as though it had been there for a very long time! In the new site, although patrons are still allowed to throw peanut shells on the floor as in days of old, we wondered if there is someone who comes along each night, and sweeps them all up, so that it is pristine for start of business the next day?! The ceiling fans still waft, but now they are powered electrically; and patrons have to queue up to get in.

It was then I understood why Wendy was clear she did not want to go to the Long Bar on Saturday night; the wait to get in would probably have been horrendous! As it was, it took us nearly half an hour to cross the threshold and be guided to a table.

The Singapore Sling Shaker

Once seated, Wendy had a Singapore Sling; I ordered orange juice, but I was persuaded to have a sip of Wendy's tipple. All I can say is, if I had to drink it, I think it would have to be written on  prescription, and taken on doctor's orders! My orange juice went down just fine.

Of course, the atmosphere is what you go for, and the history and the sense of occasion; it was lovely to be back.

Although Raffles Hotel isn't open, they have a little souvenir shop which is, and we went in to see where Wendy had bought pretty things from her last trip.

Wendy knew all the best shops; we really enjoyed ourselves seeing what was on offer, and although the shoe shop didn't have anything fresh to tempt Wendy, she saw a stunning pair of evening trousers - black, with silver stripes running down the sides, reminiscent of the building photographed from our room at the Pan Pacific! Very dramatic, very Wendy.

Back at the Hotel, after all that fun, sightseeing, walking and shopping, we didn't feel like eating in the restaurant, so again we ordered room service; we reckoned we wouldn't change a winning team, and kept to the same menu we'd enjoyed last night.

It was then time to make tracks to visit Super Tree Grove. It was actually not all that far to walk, but as we had been on our feet so much today, Wendy decided we would take a taxi; again, a wise move, and we arrived in good time for the light show.

It is a very beautiful place, with a ring of special trees festooned with lights, which dance to the music of Strauss waltzes, excerpts from opera, some very dramatic, some deeply romantic and moving. It is quite entrancing.

The light show at Super Tree Grove

The few photographs we took don't do it justice, but in any case, I didn't want to have a finger pressing the camera button, clicking away all the time; I just wanted to enjoy the performance. It lasted 15 minutes and what wonderful impressions we took away with us.

Wendy was pleased to have shown me so many things she enjoys on her visits to Singapore; another taxi ride back to the hotel, another call to room service to order breakfast for the next morning, and that was it for the day. We both felt we had done well!

Sightseeing in Singapore - Sunday Morning

Sightseeing in Singapore - Sunday Morning

Well, it was interesting to be back in Singapore - the last time I was here was in 2001, when we all went out to see Uncle John and Aunt Marguerite, and we stopped off on the way to Brisbane, and again, on the journey back to England. It was a much more relaxing way to travel!

After a hectic and emotional week in Brisbane, it felt weird to have a day with only rest and relaxation on the agenda. I still felt guilty at having left Mum at home, but I knew she was being very well cared for whilst we were away; I missed Uncle John, and not being able to visit him very day, but Wendy was very philosophical and said we had done our very best, and he was certainly a lot more cheerful now he had seen us! With that in mind, we had only ourselves to please, and considered the list we had made, of things we wanted to do.

Wendy said we should book the Duck Tour first, and make sure we were in a good position in the queue, well in advance of the departure time, so that we could get a front seat.

First, though, we had breakfast - I had ordered room service again, and it was brought up right on time, and exactly what we had ordered. Well-fed and rested, we set off on our itinerary for the day.

I don't mind hot and humid - growing up in Dar-es-Salaam accustomed me to that - but in Singapore, if you don't want to brave the heat on the street, there are underground air-conditioned malls to walk through.

A few steps outside the hotel took us to Suntec City, and into the cool of the mall; a few brief steps outside again led us to the Duck Tour office.

And Donald Duck was always my favourite cartoon character!

After buying our tickets for a tour starting in a couple of hours, it was back to the next item on the agenda, a walk round the Fountain of Wealth. As the fountain plays, people walk clockwise round the fountain, trailing their hand in the water, and make a wish - reminiscent of Trevi Fountain in Rome: throw in three coins, and it is promised you will return!

Wendy and me trying our luck at
The Fountain of Wealth

Wendy had discovered a large supermarket called Giant(!) where she could buy Lux soap in many different fragrances than you can find in England; we stocked up, and then it was time for the grand Duck Tour.

We timed it perfectly, and bagged our front seats; the tour was such a treat, and we enjoyed every moment, from the start of the DKW trundling along the streets, to the moment when we became a boat and splashed into Marina Bay. The bay is filled with fresh water, and supplies Singapore with its drinking water; it was also lovely and cool as we sailed past all the tourist attractions, including the beautiful lotus-shaped Art and Science Museum, and the impressive Marina Bay Sands Hotel.

Art and Science Museum

Marina Bay Sands Hotel 

Heading Home - Singapore

Heading Home - Singapore

Saturday, 30 March, found us up very early. We got to the airport in good time, checked in, and caught our flight.

My goodness, it was a bumpy trip! The food was enough to tide me over, and I watched yet another film. I don't see a film for years, and suddenly, as a member of a captive audience on a flight, I have now seen three Oscar winning films. Clearly, to keep up with all the new-release movies, I shall have to make more long-distance flights.

We landed at Changi safely, and went through passport control; both Wendy and I got a stamp in our passports. I chatted to the lady officer for a couple of minutes; I suspect not many passengers have time to smile, let alone say hello. She asked me how our flight had been? and when I admitted it had been a bit bumpy, she was very sympathetic.

Usually, Wendy uses the underground train to travel from Changi to the hotel, but this time there were two of us, which made hiring a taxi worthwhile. The driver was waiting for us, which was quite a treat; However, when Wendy noticed the Hertz Car Rental office was situated right by the taxi pick up point, she said, "Next time, I'll hire a car!"

It was a pleasant ride to the Pan Pacific; although I wasn't quite as tired as Wendy, it was good to arrive at the hotel, and Wendy was greeted like an old friend.

The receptionists remembered her - of course it had only been a couple of weeks since her last stay there - and we had a beautiful room on the 26th floor, with fine views.

Bird's eye view from the 26th floor

Wendy knows Singapore like the back of her hand, and pointed out places of interest.

We unpacked very quickly and settled in, but then the tiredness really kicked in, and we decided to ring room service and have dinner in our room. Normally, I'd always prefer to eat in the restaurant - if something has been missed from what you've ordered, it's easy to ask the waiter for it; but our meal was delivered very swiftly, beautifully presented, and exactly what we had asked for: Minestrone soups, Margarita pizza, the usual tea for two and extra pot of hot water, hot toast, rolls, and lashings of butter - too delicious! 

Although Raffles Hotel is still closed for refurbishment, the Long Bar is now open; after dinner, I felt refreshed, so I asked Wendy if she would like to go there, but she was so exhausted, she was not up for a fairly short walk, even with the promise of a Singapore Sling as a reward.

Instead, we made a list of things to do the next day:

1) Book a "duck" tour
2) Walk round the Fountain of Wealth
3) Giant - a supermarket to buy Lux soap (in fragrances not available in England)
4) Take the "duck" tour
5) The Long Bar
6) Raffles' souvenir shop (That, at least, is already open!)
7) A shoe shop
8) Have dinner
9) Visit Super Tree Grove for the light show.

And on Monday, weather permitting, we would go on the Singapore Wheel.

More Golden Moments On Our Travels (4)

More Golden Moments On Our Travels (4)

Friday, 29 March found us up early and keen to find the new hospital - St Vincent's was closer to the centre of Brisbane, so it didn't take us long to get there.

We were told Uncle John was up on the third floor, in Bed 15; walking in to his room, we found the light was off, and he was fast asleep. He had slipped down the bed, which meant that although he isn't as tall as he used to be when he was young, his feet were right against the end of the bed, and his knees were bent and scrunched up.

Having looked after Mum for such a long time, we knew it wasn't a good idea for him to be left like that, so we put the light on, and said "Good morning, Uncle John!"

With that, he opened his eyes and was wide awake.

"Hello," he said, looking really happy to see us.

We were concerned, because we could also smell urine. We pressed the call button and a nurse came very quickly, and said Uncle John would be taken for a shower; this was just as well, because when they got Uncle John up, he was soaked, and so were the sheets.

Things moved quickly then; we gave the nurse Uncle John's clean clothes and he went for his shower; the bed was made with fresh sheets, and the nurses said they would speak to his son about washing his clothes.

Presently Uncle John was back in bed and we could enjoy our time with him; we also took more photographs, and a couple of videos - Uncle John was very happy to reminisce, and it was lovely to get him talking about things he has done in his life.

The physiotherapist came to see him and helped him to use a walker for a little way around the bed and back. Uncle John is certainly not accustomed to using one of these - it's taken him a while a accept he might need to use a stick! - but he persevered, and realised that to progress, he has to get the hang of moving the walker forward and then stepping in to it.

We also saw one of the Social Workers, and explained again, why we would like to be told how Uncle John is. His records had not been sent through from Princess Alexandra Hospital, so the Social Worker asked Uncle John directly, if he was happy for us to be named as family members to be contacted. Once Uncle John had given his consent, Wendy wrote out all our contact details: addresses, phone numbers and e-mail addresses, and these should now be on his file.

We stayed with Uncle John for as long as we could. He was very positive, and said the food was good - his lunch also arrived, and we could see he really enjoyed it - but at last it was time for us to leave and get ready for the start of our journey home, early tomorrow morning.

Wendy and Uncle John in St Vincent's Hospital

It was so hard to leave Uncle John; he knows how much we love him, and will miss him! We had bought him a codeword puzzle book - he used to love solving those, when he was with us in England - and we gave him the writing pad and envelopes, all stamped, and self-addressed back home to us, and a pen. We showed the nurse what we'd done, and she said she would try to encourage him to write to us.

I gave him a big hug and kiss first, and told him we loved him; then it was Wendy's turn, and I could see Uncle John's face over her shoulder, his eyes filled up with tears.

As she hugged him, Wendy also said something very prescient: "See you next time!" and now that we know he may have some longer time to live than the doctors first thought, this will give Wendy the chance to fly back to Brisbane in June, and she will indeed see him again.

It was such an emotional time. I was so happy to have seen Uncle John, sad to be going away, and yet knowing I had to get back to Mum. It was really hard to feel so torn.

Wendy, ever practical, said, "Let's go to Sizzlers for lunch!"

It was a good idea to return to Forest Lake; after we had eaten, we went for a walk by the lake, and fed the ducks, coots and the black swan.

Back at the apartment, we got packed and prepared for the morning. Still in positive mode, Wendy said it would be nice to have a ride on the catamaran, and sail up and down the river; it was a really great idea, with the salt in the air on your face, and the breeze in your hair - the catamaran gets up to speeds of about 40 miles per hour - it's a wonderful way to blow away the cobwebs! Wendy has done all this before, and pointed out all the places of interest.

We saw the paddle steamer plying its trade on the river, where Wendy once took Uncle John for dinner whilst they enjoyed the river cruise. Sadly, the next time she booked, they had changed from offering a proper dinner with waitress service, to providing only a buffet meal, which didn't fit the bill - Uncle John would not have been happy standing in a queue, and trying to collect the food himself.

I was really impressed with the lighting on the buildings, and the Story Bridge was quite beautiful - bathed this evening in purple.

We walked back to the apartment and after supper, had an early night, ready for a very early start in the morning, and our flight to Singapore.

My Birthday - 28 March 2019

My Birthday - 28 March 2019

My birthday started off really well, with a lovely phone call from home. It was late evening in England and although Mum sounded a bit distracted, she Mum was still awake, and it was so good to hear her. She said the carers would be along presently, to get her to bed. (I had another call from Mum later in the day; she was much more awake, and sang Happy Birthday down the line to me).

When Wendy was up, she gave me my first present of the day, a cat key ring; I was very happy to have it! and as soon as we had eaten breakfast, we were off to Princess Alexandra Hospital. We took the birthday cakes with us, and Uncle John was delighted to see us.

One of the nurses told us Uncle John will be moving later today, to St Vincent's Hospital. This is a private hospital, but they have a bed in the palliative care ward available for him; all beds in the other hospitals are full. (There was a headline in the Courier Mail, reporting that, apart from the children's hospital, there was not a single bed free in any Brisbane hospital. The NHS is not alone in having challenges to supply sufficient beds).

Another nurse brought us plates, a knife and forks, so that I could cut my birthday cake and share it out. Wendy and Uncle John sang Happy Birthday to me; Uncle John chose which cake we should eat first, and helped me to cut it. The nurses and reception staff couldn't join in at the time, so I left the second cake for them to enjoy when they had a break, in order celebrate my birthday with me.

Wendy and Uncle John had been in cahoots about getting a birthday card for him to give to me. I was banished to the waiting area outside the ward for a little while, giving Uncle John a chance to write something for me, and I was so chuffed to have this very special birthday card.

Uncle John and me - 28 March 2019

Whilst we all chatted away, Wendy recorded more videos and photographs; Uncle John has done so much, and it's very interesting to hear about his life, and have some record of it.

Uncle John was then helped into the bathroom to have a shower; when he was finished, the nurse came to us, carrying a bag of clothes. Some were things he had been wearing, when he was first taken ill, and taken to Logan Hospital, including a pair of shorts, and one of his lovely silky shirts that he enjoys wearing. Wendy and I were shocked that no-one had seen fit to get him some nice clean things to put on, and thanked goodness we had thought to buy a couple more pairs of pyjamas for him! The nurse said of course there are laundry facilities at the hospital, but usually the family take patients' clothes home and wash them. Clearly this hadn't been done for Uncle John, so we said we would take it; we had a washing machine in the apartment, a tumble dryer, an iron and an ironing board, so it would be easy for us to return it to him in the morning.

We were told Uncle John would be transferred to St Vincent's Hospital that afternoon; he might have to wait for some time in the discharge lounge, but in the end, he was able to have his lunch and was then transferred by ambulance, which went very smoothly.

Back at the apartment, we washed Uncle John's clothes, tumble dried and aired them; later that evening, I ironed everything, and thought what a simple, easy job it was, to do something like that for him.

We checked the parcel with the rug securely packed inside: strongly held in the two boxes? Check. Boxes firmly held together with strong parcel tape? Check. Brown paper carefully wrapped around every inch of the boxes? Check. No string left around the parcel? Double check!!

The Receptionist had kindly printed off all the documents and labels for us, and after another, final check that everything was in order, we took the parcel downstairs to await collection by TNT; it would be kept safely behind the desk, until the courier collected it on Friday, between 9.00 a.m. and 6.00 p.m.

Then we were ready for the drive out of Brisbane, to see Jane and Stuart, our wonderful friends from South Africa.

My Mum's dearest friend in Durban was a lovely lady called Mary; they were neighbours in Stanbury Court, and Mum and Grandma grew very close to Mary and her husband Tony. When my Grandma died in 1985, Mary was such a great support to Mum, both emotionally and practically, and after Mum returned to England, we all wrote to each other and always kept in touch. Jane is one of Mary's children; she is married to Stuart, and they settled in Australia some years ago. We met up once before, in London, but that was such a long time ago, I certainly wasn't going to miss the chance of seeing them both again now! They live a couple of hours' drive away from the centre of Brisbane; Wendy and Uncle John have visited Jane and Stuart before, so Wendy knows the way very well, and we were soon pulling up outside their house.

From the moment they opened their front door, the warmth of their welcome enveloped us; it was so good to see them again.

Jane, Alex and Stuart

We had such a happy reunion; Jane had made me a special birthday cake, and we had a wonderful evening, talking about Durban, people we knew, and what we had all being doing since we last saw each other.

The time passed all too quickly; Jane and Stuart understood we had a long drive back to the city, and so reluctantly we said our goodbyes. We all hope it won't be very long until we can meet again.

What a splendid birthday I enjoyed!

More Golden Moments On Our Travels (3)

More Golden Moments On Our Travels (3)

During all the time we were in Brisbane, visiting Uncle John, and taking trips to places he and Wendy know so well, we managed to keep an eye on the time in England, and rang home to speak to Mum on a regular basis. We were very lucky in that on most occasions we picked our moments just right, and could have a quick chat with her. Mostly it was just to tell her we were fine, and she told us she was having her breakfast; but at least we could keep in touch.

On the Wednesday, 27 March, we were back bright and early at the hospital. When we walked into the ward, there were two members of the Palliative Care team present, and they told us Uncle John would be moved very soon, to St Vincent's, a private hospital. Uncle John was in pretty good form, and took this news in his stride.

After they left, we took the opportunity to have brilliant conversations with Uncle John about when we were all in East Africa in the 1950s. He remembered, when he, Marguerite and Johnny left Kenya, they had a little 2CV car, and he drove all the way across Africa - first to Victoria Falls in what was then Southern Rhodesia, then across and through to South Africa, and down to the Cape, where they took a ship back to the UK from Cape Town.

He also recalled the time when they spent a year or two, in Romania; Uncle John worked for a big company that made paper, and every weekend the family would go to either the Black Sea, or one of the lakes, to relax. If they went to a restaurant for dinner, a gypsy violinist would come and serenade them - happy memories for Uncle John!

Whilst we talked and listened to Uncle John, Wendy took some beautiful photographs, and also made some videos of our conversations. It is amazing what facilities are available on very small cameras!

Presently, a nurse came along and said Uncle John was due to have a chest X-ray, and we asked if we could go with him? We could, so we tagged along with the porter and stayed with him whilst he waited in the X-ray Department; after the X-ray had been done, we sat with him until the porter returned to take him back to the ward. Uncle John had become quite nervous; he was shaking, and a bit shivery, and we were very glad we were there to reassure him, and tell him he was fine. There was a "warming cupboard," where they kept nice hot blankets, so we got a couple and wrapped them around Uncle John; he felt much better for that. Shortly after we were back on the ward, the phlebotomist came along and took umpteen phials of blood! (I felt like paraphrasing those wonderful lines from Tony Hancock's sketch, "The Blood Donor": "A pint?!....Why, that's very nearly an armful!")

We gave Uncle John another pair of pyjamas we'd bought for him - these are flannelette, and a bit warmer than the cotton ones he'd been wearing.

Uncle John enjoyed his lunch, and then was ready for a nap; we bought him a copy of the Courier Mail, and after he had settled down, Wendy and I left, to get something to eat ourselves. We promised to be back first thing in the morning.

We also did more shopping! When Wendy was with Uncle John in February, they had gone to a large store, Harvey Norman, to get him a new shaver. On the way through to the electrical department, they passed through the carpet and rug section; Wendy had seen a very beautiful rug, in graduated shades of red and orange, and now she was keen to see if it was still there, and for me to see it, too.

And indeed, it was there! These rugs came in three sizes - large, small, and - the "Goldilocks size" - medium - "just right" for what Wendy wanted. The large one had been sold that morning; the small one was of no interest to Wendy, but the medium rug was still there; just waiting for Wendy to buy it. Of course we realised we would have to get it back home to England somehow; clearly, it wouldn't fit in our suitcase! The salesman was extremely helpful; he got it measured and weighed, and we reckoned we could post it back to England without too much difficulty.

We went shopping for our dinner, and bought a couple of birthday cakes to take with us to the hospital tomorrow.

Wendy then took me for a relaxing drive round some of the places where Uncle John, Marguerite and Johnny had lived in Brisbane. We saw Wembley Road, and then went to Marsden. It felt strangely sad to think I won't ever see Uncle John in his Unit; Wendy, who has spent so much time with him at both Forest Lake and Marsden, felt it even more keenly.

We went back up to Mount Coot-tha once again, before driving back to the apartment and making our dinner. After that, we tackled the problem of wrapping up the rug! Wendy went to an office supplies store to buy two cardboard boxes, brown paper, heavy duty parcel tape, Sellotape and string. Nothing if not enterprising, we put the two boxes together lengthways, which then made them long enough to take the rug. For a bit of padding, we added the throw, and the cushion, and crumpled newspaper.

I have never been a Girl Guide, but my Mum was, and she taught me how to wrap up parcels with string, and secure the knots properly. Because the box was now quite long, and heavy enough, it was very unwieldy! but together, Wendy and I managed to do it.

The moral of this story is, you should always check not only the weight limits (we were fine with those), but the size of the parcel as well. When we measured it, it was too big to be sent home by parcel post.

Ah. Wendy was so disappointed, and quite prepared to return the rug to Harvey Norman, but then we had another electric light bulb moment: Find a courier. Wendy checked what couriers were available, and came up with TNT; we were further reassured, because one of the receptionists on the desk downstairs told us he often sends parcels back home by TNT, and they always arrive safely.

This time, we checked the criteria extremely carefully. Everything was in order, until we discovered string is not accepted! (And after all my efforts to get the parcel so beautifully tied up with string...!)

I unwound the string.  My Grandma, always thrifty, advocated never to cut string; she would wind it carefully into a ball, to be used again.

 It took me longer to get the stuff off, than it took me to put it on!

After that, we went to bed. And did I have nightmares about brown paper packages, tied up with strings? Mercifully, I did not.

More Golden Moments On Our Travels (2)

More Golden Moments On Our Travels (2)

Brisbane

We spent every day with Uncle John, enjoying our time with him.

That first day, Monday, 25 March, Wendy produced some Hot Cross Buns from Waitress, and one of the nurses on the ward recognised them immediately!

"I lived in England for a while," she told us, "and I used to get those from Waitrose, too!"

She brought us a plate, a knife and butter, and we prepared one for Uncle John - Wendy knows how much he loves these buns, because when she was with him earlier this month, she took several packets with her! - and he really tucked in.

Uncle John and Waitrose Hot Cross Buns!

Uncle John and Wendy

We didn't want to encroach with any other visitors Uncle John might have, and by mid-afternoon, when he had had his lunch, he was ready for a sleep. We promised we'd be back again, first thing in the morning.

Wendy said she wanted to show me some of the places she always went to when she was with Uncle John, and we decided we would do something each day, so we could tell Uncle John where we had been, and share the sight-seeing with him.

Wendy said, "Let's go to Forest Lake - we'll have dinner at Sizzlers, which Uncle John loves."

Wendy at Forest Lake Hotel

Wendy is never knowingly without wheels!

I could also see why Uncle John enjoys eating there; Wendy had a steak, I had fish and chips, with the crunchiest, crispiest chips I've had in a long time. The Manager and waitress both remembered Wendy and Uncle John having meals in the restaurant, and were sorry to hear he was ill.

When Uncle John lived in Forest Lake, it was so convenient for him; he could walk from his unit to the shopping area, to Coles and Woolworths, and Target for other things like furnishings and clothes. Whilst we were looking round Target, we bought Uncle John another pair of pyjamas, and Wendy saw a heart cushion, covered in sequins, that took her fancy; we got that, and a throw for her sofa.

After that, we parked up by the lake, and walked down to the water's edge; all the ducks, coots, and a black swan came up, clearly hoping for a few titbits! We decided next time we'd return with some bread to feed them.

We were still catching up on a bit of jet lag, and it was nice to get back to the apartment for supper.

The following day, Tuesday, found Uncle John quite tired; we all thought the excitement from yesterday probably had something to do with it. We stayed chatting all morning; Wendy bought him a copy of the Courier Mail, and a banana - he loves bananas - and he has always loved having a newspaper! but after lunch, he was ready for an afternoon sleep.

Uncle John mentioned his watch was still not wearable - Wendy remembered that a few weeks ago she had tried to fix the strap for him, but it's a metal one, and she could not get it to fasten around his wrist. We took the watch with us, and said we'd do our best to get it fixed; if it couldn't be mended, we would buy a new strap for him.

Using the wonders of modern science on her mobile phone, Wendy found a watch repairer a few minutes' drive from the hospital. We handed it over, and the man said he'd do his best. Ten minutes later, he was back, with the metal strap fixed! The length of the metal strap had simply not been long enough for Uncle John to put it round his wrist and close the clasp properly; now, everything had been eased and adjusted, and it worked perfectly. Whilst the watchmaker was talking to us, I detected another accent overlaying the semi-Australian English one, and asked him where he came from? It turned out he was from near Aachen, so we spent a pleasant five minutes chatting away in German. I never miss the chance for some practice, and it just shows what a small world it is.

Wendy then showed me round all the shops in the centre of Brisbane. I had an extravagant moment - having seen an outfit in a dress shop near McDonalds, I went in and tried it on. It fitted perfectly, so I bought it. Hey ho. I need something new for my next performance, or when we go to The Ritz!

We had an idea that Uncle John might want to write to us at some point, and we searched for a packet of notelets. These did not seem to be available, so we settled for a small writing pad and envelopes; Wendy got two sheets and an envelope weighed at the Post Office, and bought stamps to cover the postage for half a dozen letters back to us in England.

Wendy prepared chicken for our dinner; after a little rest, she said as it was a fine evening, we could drive to Mount Coot-tha, which has panoramic views over the city. She has taken Uncle John up there  many times, and it would be good if I could say how much I enjoyed it, too! It's really beautiful and a lovely place to go after the heat of the day.

View from Mount Coot-tha
26 March 2019

Still feeling energetic, Wendy suggested we drive back to town and go for a ride on the Brisbane Wheel - a great idea! We arrived at a time when there were hardly any other passengers; it was so quiet, we had five rotations. That trip was a great end to a good evening.

We also got in touch with Jane and Stuart, our dear friends from South Africa, who now live about 1 1/2 hours' drive from Brisbane. We arranged to visit them on Thursday evening, which was something more to look forward to!

Going The Extra Mile

Going The Extra Mile

Mum had had a couple of days when she had hardly slept: during the first night, I went in at 2.30 a.m., and she was still awake, after which she was up and doing all day; the following night, Mum was still awake at 1.30 a.m., which was when I gave in and went to bed myself. Mum had been awake for over 36 hours, so it came as no surprise when she slept right through the next morning call, and was still fast asleep when the ladies came back for the lunch call at 12.30. 

Mum surfaced at 3.30; the ladies got her up and took her to the bathroom to wash her hands, and settled her back in the chair. I got the dinner on, and in the meantime, we washed her face, and she was able to brush her teeth as usual. 

It was a very difficult time, as Mum then became very hyper. She decided she could walk, and was determined to "get up and go." Of course, she can't walk, but we were so worried that in her firm belief she could go places by herself, she'd succeed in launching herself off the chair, and end up on the floor, so one of us stayed with her all the time. 

She made a couple of dozen attempts to stand up; each time she tried, she would realise she couldn't really manage to walk after all, so she would sit down; it seemed she couldn't remember that her actions from just a minute or two ago, had not been successful. The she started demanding the table be brought closer to her, so that she could press down on it, to help her to stand. All explanations that the table was not built for that purpose, and was just a lightweight one on wheels that we use for her dinner, fell on deaf ears. She became quite abusive, and insistent that that was all she needed. It was shades of "the stupid stool" all over again, from the time when she used a very low, three-legged stool to help her to walk, instead of a purpose-built walker - with he the disastrous result of her falling over the stool, and breaking her ankle. We didn't want anything like that to happen again, so we tried distraction, we tried the t.v., we tried to engage her in a magazine (she's going through a phase of tearing out all the pages!) but nothing seemed to work. 

I just got on with preparing and serving Mum's dinner and, at last, that seemed to work. She ate well, took her pills and had a nice cup of tea, and when the ladies returned at 7.30, she went with them to the bathroom. 

We carried on with supper - a slice of coconut cake and more tea, all of which went down as well, but Mum was still very agitated. Instead of turning them over one at a time like she usually does, Mum was sort of scrabbling at the pages of the magazine, with very "spiky" fingers - held out stiffly, and not being very effective in ripping pages out!

The ladies returned at 9.45, and succeeded in getting Mum back to bed, but throughout all this time, Mum was shouting for her mother, and for her brother, Johnny-Boy, to help her. One of the ladies, Sydney, who knows Mum so well, talked to her, and soothed her. Once Mum was lying down, Sydney knelt beside her, and in a very soft voice kept reassuring her, that they would find her Mum in the morning; but for now, it was time to rest, and her Mum needed to sleep as well. 

Because Sydney was so gentle, and spoke so softly, Mum had to stop shouting so that she could hear what Sydney was saying! and gradually Mum began to agree to all Sydney's suggestions, and accepted she'd wait until the morning. 

After all Sydney's gentle, patient, persuasion, in the end Mum did get off to sleep. Sydney did not rush Mum, and we knew she would take all the time it needed, to make sure Mum was calm and happy. It is such a comfort to know that, when Mum is having one of her episodes, we aren't alone - and that is really "going the extra mile!"