Mum Is "Promoted To Glory"

Mum Is Promoted To Glory

When we lived in Dar-es-Salaam, we often attended services by the Salvation Army - we loved their warmth, the great hymns and the sheer kindness and practical help the officers gave us, during times of trouble.  When someone died, Salvation Army Officers were described as having been "Promoted to Glory."

Mum was Promoted to Glory on Monday, 23 March 2020.

We know Mum was still with us at ten past midnight; she was snug and tucked up in bed, and I looked in on her to say Goodnight and God bless, and tell her I loved her. I went upstairs to write a couple of letters, and then went back to check on Mum before going to bed myself.

I got closer to Mum, and felt her head; she wasn't cold, but she wasn't very warm either; I felt for a pulse, but because Mum's breathing has been getting shallower and softer, I couldn't feel one. I rang Al, and he immediately offered to drive straight over to us and help me to check Mum, but by now it was almost 1.00 a.m., and I didn't want to commit him to a long drive.

I said Mum was tucked up nice and warm, so we agreed I should leave it until I got up in the morning, and see how she was then.

When we went downstairs at 7.00 a.m. and went in to Mum, it was clear she had passed; she was cold and rigor mortis had set in to a degree.

In fact, I believe Mum died at about 1.00 a.m. on Monday morning, and so peacefully; she was like a fragile leaf on a delicate twig, blowing gently in the breeze. It was how we had prayed it would be for her: so kindly, with no fear, just a gentle slipping into Glory.

Mother's Day - Sunday, 22 March 2020

Mother's Day - Sunday, 22 March 2020

Mum had a wonderful start to the day this morning; she was awake, and soon washed and dressed.

We went in and brushed her teeth, and I made tea, Ribena and Complan; I also prepared a little beaker of water to dissolve the proton pump inhibitor pill in it, and Mum was really ready to have something to drink, and have spoonfuls of Complan.

She was doing really well, and keen to drink; she wasn't spilling anything, or choking, and everything went down beautifully.

I asked her, "Are you thirsty, Ma?"

"No!" she said firmly. She was just enjoying the drink, taking the tea and water and swallowing easily; she had something of everything.

I reminded her that today was Mother's Day, and I showed her all the cards again, and read out all the verses, and what Wendy, Al and I had written for her. I left the cards on the table, where she could see them.

The ladies came at about 1.00 p.m., and settled Mum down for a nap.  Her bodily functions were getting back to normal, as well! which was so good to hear.

When Mum woke up again at about 4.30 p.m., she was very tired; I made fresh tea, Ribena and Complan, and tried to give her some more potassium syrup, but at this time of the day, she was really not as bright as she had been in the morning.

I looked at Mum's face, and how terribly thin and drawn it was; her skin was stretched tightly over her cheekbones, and she looked gaunt.

We all tried to encourage her to eat and drink something, but she was really not interested; when her tea had gone really cold, I made her a fresh cup, but that one didn't go down either. It was such a shame she couldn't maintain the wonderful momentum she had had earlier, but we had to accept that was how it was this evening.

We tried singing a few of her favourite songs; we added the lines she usually manages to come in on, but not even Kiss Me Goodnight, Sergeant Major, or Hang Out The Washing On The (Siegfried) Sidcup Line elicited a response.

After the bed call, the ladies left Mum tucked up snugly. I said, "Good night, God bless - I love you!" and then I went in to the lounge and wonders of wonders, watched a recording of the final episode of Last Tango in Halifax! I watch so little television, but I really enjoy that series, and this time there were only four episodes to see.

And so the clock ticked on to the end of the day, and Monday was approaching. At about midnight, it was time to go to Mum again, and see how she was, before getting to bed myself.

Saturday, 21 March

Saturday, 21 March

Wendy stayed with us overnight; it was lovely, because she could spend more time with Mum, and it made for a very relaxed day.

The ladies came in the morning, and got Mum washed and dressed; when they had finished, we brushed Mum's teeth, and she clearly felt fresher.

We tried tempting her appetite with strawberry Complan - I said, "Come on Mum, try this - it's like strawberries and cream!" but Mum was not up for eating, or drinking, very much. She is so incredibly thin.

We had a good singing session with Mum; again, she was not up for joining in, but we performed all the songs she knows, and sang them with great gusto. Wendy played for her: "Who Do You Think You Are Kidding, Mr Hitler," the theme from Dad's Army - even if Mum couldn't sing, we all tried to make up for it! 

Wendy is so good at playing the tunes Mum likes, that I don't have the sheet music for; we had "Portsmouth," and a couple of ragtime pieces - all good fun.

Wendy had to leave in the afternoon, and went in to see Mum. 

She said, "I've got to go now, so cheerio for now!"

Then, very presciently, Wendy added, "When you can, will you come and visit me at home?"

Mum didn't reply, but moved a little bit in acknowledgement; Wendy was happy with that.

The rest of the day carried on in its usual routine. The lovely ladies from Home Sweet Home came in for the rest of the calls, making sure Mum was comfortable; she went to the loo, and her pad was wet, which was equally a relief to us as it probably was to Mum!

I did some ironing, to ensure Mum was well supplied with clean nighties.  Over the past few days, it has been difficult to get clothes over Mum's head and pull them all the way down her back, so we have been cutting open the back of the nighties nearly all the way up to the neckline, which makes it much easier to get her dressed. Why struggle, if you don't have to?!

I kept up the supply of fresh, cool enough to drink tea, Ribena and Complan; she didn't have very much, but we kept trying. 

After the bed call, Mum was settled down for the night; I checked on her regularly, and said prayers for her, and then I too went to bed.

Friday, 20 March

Friday, 20 March

Wendy came over to us today, which was really helpful. She also had to get her car serviced; someone from the garage picked it up, so everything fitted very well.

We got Mum's teeth brushed, and made more tea and Complan; she had a little bit of that but, really, we can all see the way it is going. Throughout the day, I continued making fresh tea and Complan, and we persevered with little sips and spoonfuls - every 5 ml. is better than nothing. We are also meant to give Mum four pills in the morning, but it is impossible to get her to take them; she also needs 10ml of potassium three times a day, which happily comes as a syrup, and Mum can manage that.

Her voice is now just a whisper, and so reedy; I played piano and we all sang, and we could see Mum trying to mouth the words, but nothing very much came out. At least she can still hear! and we keep talking and telling her she is doing well, and that she is fine.

We rang Al and I held the landline phone to Mum's ear, and she tried to respond to him:

"How are you?!" he bellowed.

Mum whispered, "I'm fine...."

Then Al was able to call us on Wendy's mobile phone as on a Skype call (except that it wasn't Skype - all too technical for me!) and we had pictures up on the screen of each other. I held up the phone in front of Mum, and hoped she could see him - Al could certainly see her. He showed us Roxy, his smiling Newfoundland - her tail is the most dangerous part of her, and very likely to clear a table of anything on it - she is such a gorgeous dog!

Al was very ready to drive up to see us, but he and Hannah are self-isolating at the moment; Al thinks he is fine, but is not sure if Hannah has got the corona virus, so that is a worry.  We agreed to hold fire for another day and see how Mum is.

Wendy had brought Mum a Mother's Day "Grandma" card, and I gave Mum a Happy Mother's Day card. We opened the cards with her, and read the verses inside, and what we had all written. We got out Al's card as well, and reminded Mum how Al had given it to her a couple of weeks ago; she liked them all, and I left them standing on the table for her.

I stroked Mum's hair, and I asked her, "Ma - do you love me?"

And, God bless her, I could hear her say, "I do."

"And I love you, too," I told her.

A bit later on, I asked her again: "Ma - do you love me?"

Something in her brain is still connected, because again she replied, "I do."

I reassured her once more: "And I love you, too."

I think we should all tell each other out loud, that we love each other.

Thursday, 19 March - Such A Busy Day

Thursday, 19 March  - Such A Busy Day

I spent a lot of time on phone - firstly to the District Nurses, who came to see Mum within a couple of hours. They examined Mum, and re-dressed her bedsore, and said they would be back on Monday, to check how it was healing.  They assessed it as a Grade 2, which is not as bad as it could have been, but I made the point that Mum has been with us for 8 years, and has never had a bed sore; thirteen days in hospital, and she comes home with one. I am not impressed. I remember being told that there is absolutely no excuse for any patient to develop a bedsore; yet here we are.

We brushed Mum's teeth and got her some chocolate Complan, and a nice cup of tea; she had so little, and she is just skin and bone, so I don't know if we have passed the point of no return, and there is no chance of her picking up a bit. I hope we can still go on for a while; it is my birthday on Saturday week!

It was another exhausting day, trying to get shopping in. Sainsbury's organised the first hour of the day - from 7.00 - 8.00 a.m. - to be set aside specifically for older people, but it was still totally chaotic, and goods disappeared from the shelves so quickly, we still could not get everything we needed.

Throughout the day, we kept feeding Mum tiny sips of tea, and Complan, just trying to keep her going, really. The ladies came four times during the day, and said Mum was not passing any urine - her pads were pretty dry, so that is a continuing worry.

At least having Mum home means we can be in and out of her bedroom, with a supply of fresh Ribena, which she seems to like! - and keep trying to persuade her to at least drink something.

On one evening, we watched a programme about Whitby, and Robin Hood Bay; I reminded Mum she had had a lovely holiday there once, and had really enjoyed it. There was a lot of information about the smugglers, and the way the sea erodes the coastline, and I tried to get Mum talking and reminiscing about it.

I asked her, "Do you remember your holiday there?" and Mum said, "Yes." Well, whether or not she does remember those good times, at least I know she has experienced them, and can try to help her to recall them!

Getting Mum Home

Getting Mum Home

We'd hoped to get Mum home on Friday, 13 March - she would then have been in hospital for a week - but blood tests showed she needed more potassium, more hydration etc., so all that had to be put in place first. Then we hoped she could be discharged on Saturday; that slipped to the Sunday, followed by promises to try for the Monday and Tuesday. Before she could leave hospital, she had to be stable and medically fit to travel, and it wasn't until Wednesday, 17 March, that we finally got the all clear, and an ambulance was requested to bring Mum home.

In the event, even on Wednesday, we nearly gave up on it all - by the time it got to 7.00 p.m. and there was still no news as to how close Mum was to getting transport(ed!), we lost hope and thought it probably would not happen until Thursday, by which time we would face another long wait again for things to get moving.

It was also worrying to know patients with coronavirus were being treated in the hospital; the last thing Mum needed was the risk of exposure to it.

We kept Home Sweet Home updated; they were terrific, reassuring us, and telling us to let them know as soon as we had news, and they would be round straight away, to see Mum home.

Suddenly, at about 8.00 p.m., we were told an ambulance was available; Mum was on her way home, and at last she was carried over the threshold at about 8.45 p.m.  The ambulance crew were great; they got Mum into her bedroom, into bed and she settled down.  She was so sleepy - Mum was nice and warm, well wrapped up and with her woolly hat on her head, so we let her snooze on whilst we rang Home Sweet Home. Within half an hour, Stacey and Danielle arrived, to make sure Mum was really comfortable and happy for the night.

To our - and their - distress, they saw Mum had developed a bedsore in hospital, at the base of her spine, towards her bottom, and the skin was open. They dressed the wound, and I said I'd ring the District Nurses first thing in the morning.

I made Mum a cup of tea, and a beaker of Ribena - she had a few spoonfuls, and it seemed to go down well! So that should help to get some fluids in to her.

It had been pretty exhausting getting Mum home - apart from the physical strain of being in the Hospital for so many hours, the uncertainty of it all - will it happen, won't it happen? - adds heavily to the stress.

But at last Mum was home, and in her own bed, where we can look after her so easily; no more twice daily trips to the Hospital, and that saves so much time! Having to prepare everything we needed to take with us, and then travelling to and from the hospital, was really tiring.

We all had a much better night.

A Diversion For Uncle John

A Diversion For Uncle John

When Mum was admitted to hospital, and we had still had received no reply from the Office of the Public Guardian in Brisbane regarding their investigations into how Uncle John is being treated by his son, I was more and more aware of how fast time is ticking, and how little we might have left of it.

We took a photo of Mum in bed on the ward, and I wrote again to the OPG, sending them the picture, emphasising that time was now crucial, and asking how much longer their investigations might take.

I sent this e-mail on 8 March:

Dear Mrs Shipman

I am writing to let you know that on Friday, 6 March, my mother was vomiting blood, and was admitted to Queens Hospital in Romford, where she remains as an in-patient. The doctors are very concerned about her because the oedema is very severe; she has been given a blood transfusion and is on oxygen; they are concerned about her heart, lungs and kidneys. 

As I have said before, since she last spoke to him on 22 June 2019, my mother has been asking for her brother, and whilst I appreciate your investigations as to why Uncle John’s son has been so intransigent about allowing anyone to contact my Uncle have to be very thorough, we fear that as she is over 100 years old, there may be very little time left to enable her to have a conversation with Uncle John.

Should you need proof of my mother’s precarious situation, I will attach a photo of her on the ward at Queens hospital.

Your earliest response will be much appreciated.

Yours sincerely

Alexandra Wilde

Mum in Hospital

I received a reply on 12 March:

Good morning Ms Wilde,

I am sorry to hear about your mother’s health.

I can provide an update that Ms James has completed the investigation report and I will be reviewing this as a priority.  When the internal review of this report has been completed, you will be provided with the outcome advice.

Kind regards

Samantha Shipman

Time is not of the essence with these authorities! and Mum has still not been able to speak to Uncle John. The last time she did have a conversation with him, was on 22 June, the day Wendy was leaving Brisbane to fly back to England. Before she drove to the airport, she visited Uncle John at the Nursing Home, and managed to connect us on a Skype call. After that, we were allowed no further contact - and neither was anyone else.

 Have these people no heart? No conscience? No compassion?

A Very Long Week

A Very Long Week

So: if a week is a long time in politics, when a loved one is in hospital, it feels even longer.

Bob did the morning shifts, brushing Mum's teeth, and give her cornflakes - it was a great success if he got Mum to swallow something, but we are always careful not to overload her with food, in case she hasn't swallowed it, and then chokes on a mouthful.

I went in at about 5.30 p.m. with Mum's dinner - the "hot box" we've created keeps the food piping hot - all it is, is a cut down cardboard box, sized to fit the plate, and lined with newspapers!

We also made sure Mum took as much of the prescribed oral medicine as possible, but fortunately, a lot of it can be administered by the drip.

Mum dozed a lot during the evenings, so I took my Easter card list with me, and started writing cards and addressing envelopes - it was very companionable.

On Saturday, 7 March, Wendy joined me with Mum on the ward. We stayed from about 6.00 - 9.15 p.m.  and tried to give her some dinner, but she just let the food slide out of her mouth, and didn't swallow it. Again, we managed to get Mum to drink the potassium medicine, and laxative mixture, so at least that was something.

Mum was very happy to see Wendy, and I was so glad she knew we were both with her.

On Sunday, 8 March, I took in Ma's dinner for her, and tried to encourage her to eat it; she said it was lovely, but we really didn't get very far. We chatted for a while, and I sang to her - Mum joined in, and enjoyed it. She is still remembering all the words! We had little chats when she was awake, and I tried to give her more to drink - it is difficult to keep Mum enthused, but we must keep persevering!

Monday, 9 March

We were both up early this morning, hoping to get in to the hospital and see the consultant on his ward rounds.

We did Mum's teeth, and started her on cornflakes; we also waited all morning to see the Consultant. Mum was one of the last patients to be seen, but at last our patience was rewarded.

The doctor said they have put Mum on very high doses of Furosemide, to try and reduce the oedema. There is so much water sloshing around Mum's tissues, but there are a number of other issues that they are trying to deal with as well. He said it is difficult when there is so much going on, but he assured me they are treating her actively and will carry on doing so.

Mum has had so many blood tests; they discovered she is anaemic, and she was then given a unit of blood - she is group A rhesus negative, which is a bit unusual - I know I am group A rhesus positive, which is more common! Anyway, this transfusion should boost Mum up a bit.

We got away from the hospital for a couple of hours, and then I was back again at about 5.00 p.m., with Mum's dinner on board. She does know she should try and eat, but she keeps dozing off, and when she is dozing, I can't encourage her to eat. I persevere all the hours we are there, and hope enough is getting into Mum to help keep her going.

Tuesday, 10 March

Mum did not eat much today; we manage to give her the potassium medication, along with a soluble laxative. Because they can't tell how much - if any - urine Mum is passing, they have inserted a catheter, so that it can be measured.

Wednesday, 11th March and Thursday, 12 March

Both rather sad days; Mum very sleepy, not eating or drinking, and her voice was so reedy and faint, it was completely unlike how she usually is. We were there for our usual two visits each day, staying hours at a time, but it is so sad and difficult, when you can see Mum sliding further and further down the slippery slope.  You feel you want to shout, "COME ON, MUM! EAT UP! IT'S LOVELY, AND IT'S GOOD FOR YOU!" but of course that approach won't work; it doesn't get through.

Friday, 13 March

This was a much better day! Mum was perkier, and when she saw the Consultant, he asked her outright, "Do you want to stay in hospital?"

Quick as a flash, Mum said, very firmly, "NO!"

"Do you want to go home?" was his next question.

Equally firmly, came Mum's reply: "YES!"

So there we had it: the Consultant agreed they would get Mum fit to travel, and she might even go home today.

He did give a word of warning, though. Once Mum was back home, they would not admit back to hospital again. We understood that, and the reason why; in one way, it made it even more important, to get Mum home as soon as we possibly can, as soon as she is well enough to be moved.

Mum Gets Taken To Hospital

Mum Gets Taken To Hospital

Thursday, 5th March, was a good day, and on Friday morning we hoped for a repeat; instead it was a really frightening time.

I had checked on Mum at about 1.00 a.m., and she was sleeping like a baby; we checked on her again at 6.30 a.m., and she was still fine.

At about 8.45 a.m., the ladies arrived as usual to get Mum washed and ready for the day, but found she had been sick and there was blood on her shoulder, on her nightie, and of course all around her mouth.

We had to call the emergency ambulance; it arrived very swiftly, with the paramedics immediately attending to Mum and checking her out. Reluctant though anyone would be to get taken to hospital, this time there really was no choice but to go.

Even though it was still quite cold (really more for Mum and me, rather than anyone else!) luckily the sun was shining and it was a really beautiful day, so getting Mum out of the house and into the ambulance wasn't too stressful. The paramedics made sure Mum was well wrapped up in two blankets (I explained how we'd lived in East Africa - and we still feel the cold!) and I got her woolly hat on her head, so she was comfortable and warm.

After the checks and observations were all done - and were found to be pretty good - we set off for A&E. I went with Mum and kept her company, reassuring her all the time.

We were soon in a bay in A&E, and I have to say the procedures went along quite quickly. A couple of doctors examined Mum - one found she was very constipated, which we think is at least partially due to the fact she has been bed bound for nearly two weeks. Because of the oedema, the carers haven't dared to risk lifting Mum in the hoist, so she hasn't been on the glider, or sat in the leather chair, at all. It is a shame she couldn't be taken out of bed, as that all helps her natural routine.

A very nice nurse got a line into Mum, and took bloods, and then another doctor, specialising in elderly frail care, came to see us. She reassured me that even though Mum is well over 100 years old, they will do everything for her, and carry out all tests necessary to find out what it wrong; she also said they would X-ray Mum's chest and abdomen. All these requests were put into the system.

Yes, the wait was horrendously tiring, and tiresome; but we kept Mum company, and cheerful, and she dozed a bit. We rang Al, and he said he would drive up from Portsmouth; he'd also had a doctor's appointment that he had to keep, but he was able to rearrange it for an earlier time, so it all fitted together.

Wendy was also ready to come straight over, but then she discovered water dripping from the bathroom and kitchen ceilings! and needed to find a roofer who could attend quickly, and find out what had happened. Because Al was going to be with us, Wendy decided to get on with sorting out the roof problem; once it was fixed (it proved to be 3 tiles that had slipped, probably due to all the stormy weather we've endured over the past month!) she drove to us later in the evening, and stayed overnight.

So, back to Friday: Mum was moved to another bay in A&E, after which Bob took over for a few hours, so that I could drive home and got some breakfast. It had all been such a shock earlier this morning, I hadn't even had time to make a cup of tea! At 2.00 p.m., a bowl of cornflakes and a cup of tea went down a treat. I began to feel more human again.

Poor Al then got caught up in the worst of Friday afternoon rush-hour traffic; coupled with roadworks, and then an accident, it took him over an hour longer than he had anticipated to reach us. I made good use of the time, having a shower, and more tea and toast, and when he finally arrived, Al had time for a quick slurp of tea as well, before we set off for the Hospital.

By then, Mum had moved to Majors Lite, and then to Majors; there was another move to the Elderly (or is it Emergency?) Referral Unit, which was where we caught up with her.  She was a bit brighter, and very pleased to see Al.

We got Mum's teeth brushed, and showed her the birthday album I'd made for her - she doesn't remember all the cards that are in there of course, so every time we look through it, I tell Mum who has sent each card, and it's a fresh experience for her.

Al had also brought her a beautiful Mother's Day card; she opened it and was really pleased, and we put it up on the table where she could see it.

Mum had already had a lot of tests taken, including a chest x-ray and regular observations; then we were told Mum would soon be moved up to another ward, where she would be admitted for as long a stay as necessary to get her stabilised, with more tests and observations.

At last, a bed became available, and Mum was taken up to a 4-bed ward - ladies only - on the fourth floor; her bed was by the window, with a great view over the city.

It was such a shame Al could not stay over, but he had to drive back to Portsmouth; in due course Wendy arrived, and she did stay the night, so she would be ready to visit Mum first thing in the morning.

And so we all reached the end of a very long, tiring and worrying day. I know Mum has to stay in hospital for many tests and checks to be carried out, but I envisage all the to-ing and fro-ing between hospital and home that is coming up, will be seriously exhausting!

ADVICE TO SELF:  STOP MOANING!

More Chalk and Cheese Days

More Chalk and Cheese Days

Wednesday, 4 March, was rather difficult.

Since being on diuretics since Friday, and as Mum is passing less urine than she used to, I rang the surgery this morning, to ask for Mum's doctor's advice. The doctor rang us back and understood how worried we are, with Mum being so swollen up; she suggested we increase the dose, from 20mg to 40mg - so we will do that, and hope it will work. If Mum starts to get rid of all that water, the ladies will be able to hoist her again, and Mum will be happy to be able to sit in the chair again.

Apart from being so worried about Mum's swollen arms, back and torso - and the fact that since she has been on the diuretic tablets, she is passing less water than she was before! - she was really very unresponsive today.

Both her right and left arms can be very stiff; usually it's her left arm that is the worse, and we have to raise it up ourselves to get it resting on a pillow, but usually she can manage to lift her right arm up by herself reasonably well, but today both arms were like lead weights.

Still, we managed to sit Mum up and wash her hands (using bowls of water on the table over the bed), and brush her teeth. She could not hold the toothbrush herself; we did it for her. I sang the toothbrush song ("We brush, brush, brush, brush, brush, brush, brush, we brush the whole day long...!") but that didn't elicit a response either.

When I think that just a couple of weeks ago, when she could still be hoisted into the chair, it is so sad to have her bed bound - it's tough for Mum (she did say she wanted to get up) and hard for us, too, trying to get everything positioned close enough to her without being in danger of spilling water/tea/corn flakes on the bed.

She had hardly any breakfast - just a few corn flakes, but at least I managed to put her pills on the spoon, so they went down alright - and about 1/4 of a cup of tea. She was very dozy, and it was not fair to force anything on her; when the ladies came at lunch time, they made her nice and comfy, and she slept on until 4.30.

She was awake again then, and at least she managed to eat all her dinner, which was reasonably "wet" with extra water,. She complained about her leg hurting her, so Bob prepared a couple of "Fizzy Pop"  tablets - two soluble paracetamols. She managed to drink all that medicine down, and also had a little tea, but then she was dozing again. She was really not "with it" today, and didn't talk to Wendy on the phone either.

At about 8.30 p.m. I made her another cup of tea, and she had some cake, but not much tea; we left it at that, and hoped for better things on the morrow.

Thursday, 5 March

And so it was, very much better! A totally different day. Mum was bright and chatty, knew who we were - apart from wanting to go back to South Africa, and marry a South African chap - and she was moving her arms so much more easily - even her left arm came back into play!

It was almost a doddle washing her hands this morning, and Mum even had a go at brushing her teeth herself. Then followed breakfast, and she really enjoyed her cornflakes, had all her pills and the tea cup was drained of tea.

Towards lunch time, we also spoke to Wendy, and Mum was quite lucid and knew what she had had for breakfast.

She had a good kip until about 3.00 p.m., when the District Nurse called to see how Mum's legs are; in fact Mum's lower legs are doing rather well! and we decided not to bandage them up again just now. If Mum is not moving quite so much, she might not kick herself as she has done in the past, so she won't need protection to prevent bruising. Her lower legs are also slimmer; but it does not explain when being on diuretics doesn't seem to have encouraged Mum to pass more water.

We shall have to persevere for a few more days with the diuretics, and it we're still worried, we'll ring the surgery on Monday, and ask Mum's GP for further advice.

The rest of the evening has been really nice; Mum had all her dinner and another cup of tea; for supper I made Mum a slice of cake and more tea, but she didn't fancy much cake. After the big dinner she put away, I wasn't too worried about that, and at least she had a little more tea.

Al rang, and had a nice sensible exchange with Mum. It was so lovely when I heard her say, "Hello Al!"

Al said, "Hello, and how are you?!"

Mum responded with "I'm fine! - How are you?"

"I'm alright!" said Al, "and what have you been getting up to?"

"I've had my dinner!" said Mum.

Simple things like this really make my day!

After that, I played piano and we all sang; Mum joined in, and it rounded off a good day.  Wednesday and Thursday - definitely "Chalk and Cheese" experiences!