*Kryptonite is a fictional substance from the Superman comic book series and generally has a detrimental effect on Superman.*

It ain’t fictional. It’s real. It comes disguised as a 73 year old severely depressed mother. And its effects on Superwoman are highly detrimental.

I can’t take another day like today. This morning was another battle of wills : she refused to get up, eat or have her tablets. She wanted to go to sleep and not wake up. I won through - eventually - but the damage was done.

I remembered - in a blinding flash - something Mum told me years ago, about her caring for her own mainc depressive mother whilst being depressed herself. That recollection, quite frankly, scared me witless, and I’ve been trying to sort my head out for the rest of the day. Fairly unsuccessfully. With a snarling pack of black dogs creeping up behind me.

Sorry. Crap day, crap blog. Need a good night’s sleep.

It’s not a pretty sight, but blog and chatroom comments seem to dictate that I am in fact Superwoman, so if the cape fits…

It will come as no surprise to you to hear it’s been another mad 24 hours chez Sybil Baggins, mostly good, some not so good. Let us start where we left off last night…

Had full on confrontation with Mum on the last visit of the day - she was flatly refusing to get out of bed and go to the bathroom to use the facilities and de-denture before properly going to bed. Honestly, talk about truculent teenage behaviour. Remembering the *cruel to be kind* advice from the CPN, I stood my ground, and eventually won through. Not a nice feeling though.

Came home in time for Question Time, and for once, felt moved to send in my own text comment. Which they used!!!! Not as good as getting a letter published in the Mail (as I have already acknowledged to Paul!), but I was pretty darn chuffed all the same. Unfortunately, the pic of the TV screen I took with my camera phone isn’t very clear, so you’ll just have to take my word that *Jen, Derbyshire* was ME!! Fame and chocklit. Good end to the day.

So, today’s list of accomplishments (dons gold wrist bands for extra effect) :

Phone garage where insurance work is to take place & rearrange time to take Minnifer in, as next Tuesday morning is getting a tad full.

Text our plumber/maintenance matey to advise that kitchen coving has not come unstuck, and all decoratng is now complete, so he can come and finish off a couple of other little jobs we’ve found for him, and then present us with The Scary Bill.

Over to Mum’s; convince her to get up, make her breakfast and shove tablets down her neck. Get her to agree to stay in the sitting room until 11am, then she can go back to bed til lunchtime if she wants.

Phone & confirm arrangements with local storage company for Chris’ arrival with van tomorrow.

Back home to meet our carpenter friend. Decking boards back down, gate temporarily bodge repaired, estimate for new gate and some trellis work on its way.

Put washload on (need clean bedding for Chris’ van driving mate who is staying over tomorrow night).

Hit the computer (not literally) - produce 3 posters for social services’ use : one each for breakfast, lunch & tea, detailing what Mum likes and where to find it, plus tablet information.

Phone Npower and resolve a problem with gas & electricity billing.

Spend an illicit 25 mins in the chatroom. Sanity restored in time to -

Head back to Mum’s for lunch. Amazingly, she’s still up in the sitting room. Am well impressed. She says it’s because she couldn’t be bothered to move, but that’s an improvement on yesterday’s absolute overiding compulsion to be back in her bolt hole. Make her lunch, give her some more tablets, convince her to stay up til 3 before returning to the bedroom.

Get call from Social Services - they’ve passed on the district nurse referral, and give me the name of the private sector co-ordinator who should be contacting me later. Chances are they won’t be able to start Monday, so SS will provide breakfast & lunch cover that day; I’ve agreed I can do the rest of Monday, and all of Tuesday if needs be.

Phone the voluntary organisation that does Mum’s cleaning & confirm next week’s requirements.

Drive over to Halfords. Neighbour pointed out yesterday that one sidelight is out, so buy bulb. In fact, do sensible thing, and buy a selection of bulbs for all occasions. Do I know what to do with them? Do I heck. And Chris is away. May chat up neighbour to show me what to do. Yes I know it’s pathetic. See? Even Superwoman has her limitations…

Look at watch. Feel hungry. Remember have friend who finishes work at 2.30 on a Friday, lives in this general direction and should be back from holiday. The upshot is a welcome 45 minutes of me time, catching up over a burger, fries and strawberry thick shake. Don’t tell me what they put in them, trust me, I DON’T CARE!!

Discover that driver’s window is playing up again (has been since I drove through some rather deep water on my way to work on Wednesday). Ring garage. They can have a quick look and eliminate/solve the easy options tomorrow; if they can’t fix it quickly, they’ll have to have it in for longer. Bingo, I can get them to fit the sidelight bulb at the same time. Neighbour is safe.

Get call from private SS co-ordinator, wants to meet me & Mum. Arrange for Monday pm after work. Explain how I can cover balance Monday & Tuesday, but they need to be able to kick in Wednesday onwards. She sounds very pleasant, and appreciated knowing exactly what they’re working to.

Head over to stationers and get the mealtime posters laminated.

Head to chemists and buy a new 7 day dispenser for the tablets which won’t fit in the daily medidose boxes.

Head to vets and collect food for our three and tablets for Bones.

Head home and zonk out for an hour.

Pop into Tescos for double sided tape (for the posters) and pizza (for my tea). Hopefully I will not get these two things confused…

Go back over to Mum’s to do her tea, and get call from her GP (I’d left a message yeserday for a catch up). She was disgusted (but somehow not shocked - how telling) about some of the things that happened at the hospital, and totally astounded that they’d discharged Mum without double checking any SS cover, despite me telling them repeatedly it wasn’t in place. She recommends a strongly worded letter. I will do this, but time does not yet allow. The blogs will come in handy when I do though - a good daily record to refer back to. We agree a full physical health check for Mum early August, and if that goes well and she’s mentally much better, we can then approach Hospital 3 for a date for the final (I hope) bout of surgery. I want as much notice as possible this time. so everything can be properly planned.

Make Mum’s tea, throw yet more tablets at her, watch Fearne Cotton’s interview with Princes William & Harry with her. Thought it was nicely done, a good, informal insight into exactly what kind of young men these two have grown up into. Think Diana would be proud of them.

Put up posters and label cupboads. Mum helpfully points out I’ve spelt marmalade *marmelade* - arse!! Still, we have a bit of a laugh about it, which is all to the good.

Home & eat.

Watch a bit of TV.

Back to Mum’s for nightime tablets and suggest a change of nightdress. No repeat of last night’s rebellion, all is well. I tell her she’s done much better today than I thought she might - she’s slept less, so will hopefully sleep better tonight. She takes a lot of convincing, but finally can see a glimmer of hope that we might - just might - be creeping in the right direction. Small steps.

Home. Blog. Sleep. ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Delivered hospital discharge letter to Mum’s GP

Requested repeat prescription for a couple of items that the hospital only gave me a few days supply of

Round to Mum’s; make her breakfast & give her her morning tablets

Finish her unpacking

Action letter received from hospital for Mum’s endoscopy outpatients appointment. Twat consultant had said last week he wantd it asap after discharge, but then had only sent a standard request to the unit. Best date they could offer is Thurs 26/7. Check with work that I can swap my Tuesday day off that week & confirm

Make warfarin blood test and ear syringing appointments for Mum for next Tues (yes I know I could have done that when I was at the surgery first thing, but I forgot!)

Meet with social services - they are putting Mum forward for 3 visits (breakfast/lunch/tea), 7 days a week, plus help with bathing. She will also ask the district nurse to get in touch with me ref incontinence control & supplies - great, may be able to get pads and stuff on the NHS

Hit Tesco and restock Mum’s cupboards, fridge & freezer

Phone Pete the joiner to arrange for him to come back and refit the decking boards now the underground spring has been sorted out. Also ask him to quote for a new side gate (I’m not the only thing round here that’s coming unhinged!)

Go to bank & make appointment for next Tues to sort a few bits and pieces out

Back to Mum’s, make her lunch, give her lunchtime tablets. Unpack & put away all the shopping. Coax her out of preferred dressng gown (she’s refusing to get dressed today), and into standby dressing gown. Put washload on

Take call from social services. They can’t manage the full monty, so I need to decide if I can accept a reduced package & continue to deal with them, or if we decide to go for the full whack, they’ll need to contract it out to the private sector. They still pay, but if that happens it’s a permanent thing, and as and when the care package is reviewed and reduced if appropriate, it will still stay with the private providers. There’s no decision to be made really - bearing in mind I/various people considered rehab/respite care to be the best option, and taking into consideration that I’m really not Superwoman (I just do a fair impression of her some of the time), both I and Mum really need the thrice daily 7 days support

Meet with Mum’s CPN. It’s quite good really that she sees Mum still in her bedclothes and more than a tad dishevelled. Have good chat. Agree next appointment for Mum (Monday pm, increased anti-depressant dose should have started to kick in by then). Also agree a carer’s assessment for me - this is a new thing under some new law that entitles carers to have an assessment of their own needs and capabilities, giving some additional back up & formalisation of their contribution should any argument over future care for the caree crops up. Or something like that. I need to read up on it a bit, but it sounds like a Good Idea

Finish sorting out Mum’s tablets into her daily medidose packs for up to the end of next week. This is a mammoth task, as her tablet supply looks like the result of a ram raid on Boots, plus she’s got some new tablets that I’m not so familiar with

Leave Mum’s (it’s 4pm by now) and head home. Get text from boss’s boss at work telling me about a piece on Radio 4’s You and Yours that might be of interest if I listen again on the web -haven’t had a chance to do that yet, but basically it’s largely about the carers assessment thingy, so will definitely have a listen. Have really bad head again, so dose up and doze off for an hour or so

Chris comes home. He’s off to Swansea again tonight for the last time - final pack up and all that. Catch up on each other’s day, then I’m back to Mum’s to sort her evening meal / tablets etc. Make her promsie to stay in the sitting room until 8 (she’s been holed up in her bedroom all day, only coming out for meals before scurrying back) and find two things of interest on the TV to help keep her there!

And now, dear reader, I’m back home. Managed to be back in time to say goodbye to Chris, am now typing this blog (so bloomin’ well comment this time, two days with no comments is very offputting!!!) and about to get something to eat. Then back to Mum’s for 10ish to make sure she has her bedtime tablets & is settled in for the night. I might just then treat myself to Question Time with the text message comments (Ceefax page 155 - give it a go if you haven’t before, it’s hilarious)

YAWN!!!!!!!!!!!

I had to sign a piece of paper today, confirming whether or not I was happy with the arrangements made for Mum’s discharge…

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!

*ahem*

So, she’s home. And I have a thumping headache where some kind soul has decided to leave a pneumatic drill running behind my right eye. So forgive this short blog (Forgive, they ask, it’s a welcome change), and I’ll blether on more tomorrow.

If it wasn’t all such a farce, so shambolic, and actually happening in real life, it’d almost be funny.

I rang social services first thing this morning. Actually, that’s a lie, I did the Tescos run and then rung them spot on 9 o’clock. No, she hadn’t heard a dicky bird from the hospital. She was shocked therefore that they planned to discharge Mum tomorrow (remember that 48 hour thing?). Yes, she would ring round all the homes to check respite care availability, and get back to me. Yes, I could ring her for an update if I hadn’t heard anything before I went to see Mum, but she should have news well before then.

So, leaving her to that, I got Eric and Bones to the vets for Programme injection and claw clipping respectively, and then, armed with my marigolds, headed over to Mum’s flat to meet cleaning lady. Two hours (and 2 rubbish bags later, sssh, don’t tell Mum), the flat was as near to spotless as it was ever going to be. But no call from social services. This didn’t bode well.

Unfortunately, the promised call from social services came when I was already on the phone for something else, so all I got was a voicemail, along the lines of zilch luck with respite care, but as the hospital haven’t contacted uthem, there’s not much chance of Mum being discharged just yet. She’d be back in the office mid/late pm and would contact the ward then.

Now, whilst tidying at Mum’s, I’d found some literature she’d snaffled on her last stay about the discharge procedure, and what patients/carers should expect. I read it. It did seem to rather contradict what was hapening. It gave a number for PALS. Bearing in mind some of the previous comments on this blog, I rang them. To be fair, they took details and rang back very promptly, but only to reiterate what the ward had already said. No rehab, no psychiatric bed, so home. And they were adamant that social services had been alerted and that the support package that Mum had previously had would kick in either Weds pm, or as I wasn’t due to pick Mum up til Weds pm, more likely Thurs am. Hmmm. I explained then that a) I’d met Mum’s social worker last week, and that care package had been scrapped pending a discharge and full review of Mum’s needs, and b) having spoken to her only that morning, she knew nothing about it. When told that I’d known about this discharge plan for weeks, I explained, rather forcefully this time, that up until last Tuesday, I’d been following what the original consultant had said, ie that Mum would have a period of respite care before coming home. But I was getting nowhere. So, I headed off to the hospital.

Whereupon they again asserted that social services were fully aware of Mum’s discharge, and that a care plan was in place. At this point, with the need to tell Mum (and work!) something concrete, because you can imagine what all the uncertainty was doing to her - well, you probably can’t, but it wasn’t good - and having provisionally agreed Plan B with work - I took a deep breath, and gave in. I’m picking Mum up at 3.30 tomorrow afternoon, and taking her home.

My next move was to speak to social services urgently, and tell them what the hospital had said. I finally got through at 4.40 (she was running late). No, she hadn’t agreed anything with the hospital. Neither had her colleague, who could have done in her absence. It seems that the hospital must have just taken Mum’s previous care plan from when she was nearly dischaged 4 weeks ago, and decided that that would be fine. We have no idea who at social services they think they’ve spoken to. I explained what I’d had to do in light of Mum’s predicament, and what the hospital had told me, and asked if an urgent review of Mum’s case was possible this side of the weekend. We’re meeting at 10 on Thursday morning. I think she’s going to give the ward a rollicking tomorrow.

I am actually quite calm. The fight seems to have left me - what’s the bloody point anyway? What I must do now is work with what I’ve got, and pour all my energies into settling Mum as best I can over the next 4/5 days, and hope to God that social services can accommodate the type of support Mum initially needs. Oh, and try to do 3 days work in one tomorrow, and email myself some stuff home to look at over the weekend.

Time off? Wassat then?

They didn’t phone Mum’s psychiatric team today - I did. Because of certain developments - things she said/ did/didn’t do - over the weekend, I thought it wise to update them, and state for the record that I didn’t feel she was fit or SAFE to be home. And forewarn them that the hospital should be ringing them to discuss Mum’s case.

The hospital rang me before lunch to tell me they were discharging Mum on Wednesday. No, they hadn’t spoken to her psychiatric team. Well, Ok, yes they would, but they still maintained she didn’t need rehab.

I caught up with Mum’s CPN on leaving work. And this is what we’re left with :

1. Rehab is a no-no. The only beds they have are for patients who require physical help. Tough if Mum subsequently lets herself get into a state where physical help becomes necessary.

2. There are no beds on the psychiatric ward; indeed they’ve just had some taken off them. Tough that Mum may actually be a danger to herself.

3. There may possibly be an option of respite care (if the fact that she’s had c diff doesn’t bugger that up). But she’ll have to pay towards it. Tough that her long stay in hospital has meant that they haven’t paid her DLA for two months, and her immediately available funds are dwindling. Fine. We’ll pay it if we have to.

And when I got to the hospital tonight, they told me I’d need to be there in the morning on Wednesday to take her home, otherwise they’d organise hospital transport. Yes, they’d send a little old badly depressed lady home with a stranger to be left in her flat, which she hadn’t set foot in for over 2 months, all alone until the afternoon. Suffice to say I really put my foot down on that, and we’ve agreed a 4pm latest pick up.

So, Wednesday is D day. Tomorrow I have to ring social services and see if respite care is a) an option and b) available - it is the holiday season after all. I may have to ring round the homes myself, as I need an answer so quickly.

We therefore have Plan A and Plan B : Plan A (respite care) - I have Wednesday afternoon off work to take Mum to wherever, and then 1-2 weeks (depending on how long we can get) to try and put things into place for a better planned return to home. Plan B (home) - I leave work at 3.30 to collect Mum, take her home, settle her in, cook her tea, come back here to get the cats in and check they’re alright, and go back to Mum’s & stop over so she’s not alone for her first night home. I then have Thusday & Friday off work, which gives me a total of 4 days (only 2 of them *normal* days) to arrange everything that needs to be arranged. I like a challenge, but…

Work, I have to say, have been fantastic. I have been a bit of a mess at various points today, and my immediate boss especially has been amazingly supportive. I’ve spoken to her this evening too (she told me to ring), and agreed both the above plans with her, I just need to let them know what’s what tomorrow.

So, pray, send positive vibes, chant - whatever floats your boat - that we get the respite care option. I’ll just leave you with one piece of advice : NHS - Cradle to Grave eh? If you’re still young enough dear reader, go private. NHS sucks.

PS Yes, Andy, balls indeed. 5 ping pong balls, nestled behind the cooker. But Grom - you were close. Except it would have been double figures if you’d been right!

…is finished!

All painted, all looking pretty damn good, even though I say so myself.

Now, here’s a riddle for you :

The answer is 5.

The clue is : I pulled the cooker out to paint behind it…

So, what’s the question?

Answers in comments please!

(yes of course it’s got something to do with cats - I am THAT predictable!!)

All in all, it’s been quite a week.

Yet strangely this evening I feel quite calm. I have no idea why, I’m just trying to enjoy the feeling.

No news from Doc - they are trying (he says) to find somewhere *suitable*, as they still maintain that ordinary rehab wouldn’t be right as the staff have no training in psychiatric matters. OK, I see where he’s coming from, but Mum’s not mad psycho, or senile or anything - she just needs a bit of motivation, cajoling and morale boosting until she regains some confidence and loses some fear. Still, he’s promised to speak to Mum’s psychiatric team on Monday. So, once again, we wait with everything crossed (apologies for those who find this physically impeding!)

On the positive side, the big D is much less, only one go yesterday and one so far today - and (more apologies if this is too much information) - today’s was, and I quote directly from the obs chart - *slightly formed*

Woo hoo!

Door was open again though…

I spoke to a doc again today. No definite news, but they are apparently trying for rehab. He’ll know more tomorrow & will ring me. CROSS EVERYTHING.

Oh, and I spoke to a sensible nurse, who checked the anti-depressant listing on Mum’s drugs chart, and confirmed that she hasn’t been written up for the increase, so we’ve lost two days. I gave him a note of exactly what it had been and what it should be. He’s promised to sort it out. Time will tell.

It’s still gloves and aprons at dawn, and a theoretical closed door policy (and they’re thinking of discharging her???) - but guess what? Door was open again today. And yesterday, when I arrived, there was a student nurse in talking to Mum, with nary a glove or apron in sight.

It’s all being noted.

Let’s play a little game. Which of those words up there refers to the hospital?

Yeah OK, so it wasn’t rocket science.

Today, a doc told Mum she was being discharged in the next few days. He didn’t say whether it would be to rehab or to her flat. She’s been inundated with physios, dieticians and god knows what else since. By the time I got there this evening (in blissful ignorance) she was in one helluva state, and it took over an hour to calm her down. When I tried to find out more from the nurse, she was, in my opinion, downright patronising. She didn’t know what had been said, she didn’t know a timescale, she didn’t know about rehab (but it was down to the physios to recommend it, and only if they felt some physical improvement was possible) and she told me that Mum was fine, *quite happy in her room with her books* She quite flatly didn’t believe me about Mum’s state of mind. By the way, this is the same nurse who was so diffident about the lack of information I’d been given about c diff, including telling me that as hadn’t known about the advised washing temp for clothes, it didn’t matter.

1) Why didn’t she know what one of her patients had been told by the doc?

2) I know that they have to give social services 48 hours notice of any discharge (never mind the message that I’d passed on only yesteday) - so she could at the very least have reassured me that nothing should (’cos I don’t trust them an inch) happen this side of the weekend

3) If rehab is only intended for physical improvement, then why did the original consultant suggest it, and why do Mum’s CPN and social servies and Mum’s GP all think it’s a good idea?

4) Mum is categorically NOT fine. She reads blindly, not usually taking much in, in a desperate attempt to block out thoughts of things that worry her. She doesn’t like to make a fuss (that generation rarely do to the professionals they (mistakenly) look up to), but I know she has mentioned to various people that’s she’s scared, anxious, stressed up etc. And let’s face it, they are not psychiatric trained nurses, and should therefore allow for the fact that with nearly 38 years experience of Mum’s illness, I might just know what I’m talking about…

I’ve left a message for the doc to call me tomorrow. I want to know if they have yet tried to contact Mum’s psychiatric team. I want to know if they’re pushing for rehab. If they’re not, Mum’s GP has told me to let her know & she’ll see what she can do. And yes Andy, failing that, PALS might well be the way to go. BUT I SHOULDN’T HAVE TO DO ANY OF THIS!!!!!!!

Oh, and they haven’t got her increased anti-depressant medication right either. Despite my leaving a note explaining it. Why am I not surprised?

Well, I didn’t like this consulant as much as the other one. By complete contrast, he was more into the here and now rather than looking at Mum’s problems as a whole.

On the plus side, he conceded that Mum had almost certainly contracted c diif whilst in hospital. It helped that I remembered that nice consultant had stated - when he said he wanted Mum down on his ward - that she didn’t have c diff. The diarrhoea is considerably less than this time 3/4 days ago, in both quantity and frequency, but remember, we’ve been here before, and it’s flared up again. He also said that he didn’t want to keep her in hospial much longer a) because of the ongoing psyche problem and b) because of the risk of contracting another bug or even c diff again, but at the same time, had to balance that against the danger of her bouncng straight back in again. OK, can’t argue with any of that. Any further investigations they do decide to do could be done as an out-patient. He also agreed to up her anti-depressant morning dose in line with what Mum’s psychiatrist had advised last week.

He then said about discharging her in the next few days.

Woooahhhhh!! Steady on there. First off, what about rehab? He said that was down to the physios. Yes OK, but it’s not just her physical ability to cope, but her mental application. He said he’d discuss it with her psychiatric team, but that it was by no means a done deal, as beds were scarce. Second off, I repeated what social services ad told me : that as and when Mum was discharged, they would rather it was at the start of whichever week, to give them time to reassess and arrange the necessary support. So he said he definitely wouldn’t be doing anything this week.

Good. That gives a bit more time to check that Mum really has stabilised, and allows me to forewarn the relevant people of his intentions. I’ve spoken again to social services, and to Mum’s CPN, both of whom still think rehab is the best short term option. So at least if he does bother to speak to them, we’re all singing from the same hymn sheet. I’ve also, just to be on the safe side, been in touch with the organisaton that cleans for Mum when she’s home, and arranged for Mum’s flat to be thoroughly cleaned next Tuesday - I have to be there too for their insurance purposes, so will donning Mrs Mopp gloves and mucking in.

There’s not much else at this point I can realistically do. I can shout and scream and stamp my feet if they’re intent on sending Mum home before I think she’s ready, but at the end of the day, it ain’t my decision to make. I just have to pick up the pieces if it all goes tits up again.

Once this has all died down though, I will be pursuing some form of - complaint? Constructive criticism at the very least - about their infection control. The door to Mum’s room was open again when I got there today, and who do you think left it wide open behind him when he left?
Lead by example MY ARSE.

I have so, so many questions. But, as yet, no answers.

My head’s been buzzing all weekend, and I’ve read more about clostridium difficile than I would have thought possible. And of course it’s all over the news today as well. Mum’s worried, I’m worried, and no-one is telling us anything.

After a(nother - Saturday’s wasn’t too good either) crap night’s sleep, this morning I decided enough was enough. I rang work, asked for an unpaid day’s leave, which thankfully they allowed me, and drove over to the hospital - remember that old Barclays bank ad - *I just want to talk to someone* - well, that’s exactly how I felt. I wasn’t in a fit state to do much else to be honest.

Unfortunately, it didn’t quite go according to plan. Regular doc was off sick, consultant wasn’t due in until tomorrow. I did manage to get some useful information from one of the staff nurses (though having read it, I take issue with a number of things the Trust say they are doing to help combat the spread of infection), and also had a good long talk with one of the other docs on mum’s team. It was more background info, but pretty helpful all the same. He is going to tell the consultant I want to see him tomorrow, and I have spoken to the consultant’s secretary and arranged a time. I’ll just have to fit in kitchen repairs and all the other chores around it…so no quiet Tuesday this week folks. It’s over three weeks since I last saw a consultant (unfortunately not the same one, they rotate - no bloody continuity) - but seeing as the original plan seems to have been blown out of the water by recent developments, I think it’s high time for an update from the top.

I also had a meeting this afternoon with social sevices, and went through in some detail exactly what’s happened to Mum, and what the current situation is, and did some fact finding about the permanent care options - if (when?) it comes to that. It was VERY useful, and they’re sending me some more detailed information. They will also put Mum’s name down on the waiting list for the place she went when we were on holiday - this doesn’t prejudice us in favour of anywhere else we may find and like in the meantime, and if a place did come available before Mum is well/ready/decideds that’s not what she wants at that time, then her name stays on the list and they just move to the next one down. In the short (I hope) term, they have scrapped Mum’s existing care package - which they had just put on hold pending her discharge - and will starting from scratch with a complete reassessment as and when that time comes. So that was positive at least.

I thought today’s blog was just going to be about the difficulties of painting a kitchen when it’s teeming down with rain, and you’ve got four bored, frustrated and extremely (well 3 of them anyway) hyperactive cats to contend with. Don’t worry, they’re all still the colour they were born, and the kitchen is all done bar the final quarter, which I can’t tackle until matey’s replaced the coving and lining paper on Tuesday (remember that plan to read and sleep Tuesday - told you it wouldn’t happen).

Then I thought it might also include the challenge of doing a crossword (in an attempt to stimulate mental activity) with an exceptionally deaf Mother who’s well overdue for a sight test and evidently needs new glasses. Still, we managed it - well, two actually - and I think it did Mum some good. I’ve made her promise to at least start to tackle another one before I visit tomorrow.

But all that’s kinda got overtaken by the news from the hospital. I asked, they told. The bug she’s tested positive for? It’s C Diff.

Now, there’s a lot of bloody frightening information out there about C Diff, and I’ve been reading a lot of it. My nurse mate Sarah has also filled me in on some bits too. And it’s just as bloody well, as the hospital haven’t told me anything useful - for example, they know damn well I’ve been collecting and doing Mum’s washing. Common sense told me to keep it separate from our stuff, but I’ve been doing it at 40 degrees. Apparently that won’t kill the spores, it needs to be 60 degrees.

What we still don’t know, and can only suspect until I get to talk to a doc, is whether this really has been the culprit all along - seems unlikely, as they’ve tested her dozens of times, and this is the first positive result - or if it’s only just hit. It could also have been lying dormant and only attacked when Mum’s immune system was low, following her treatment for the colitis. Regardless, they categorically won’t be able to undertake any further investigations into any other possible underlying problems until she’s clear of it. And it can be a right git to get rid of.

I think she’s going to be in hospital for a good while yet. I could become quite proficient at crosswords.

Nuh uh - Mum has only just contracted this bug, which has made things worse. The underlying cause for the original long lasting diarrhoea still has to be determined…and like I said, there’s no chance of continuing down that road until she’s infection free. That’s why I’m wondering just where the light at the end of this bloody long tunnel is.

I bunked off visiting tonight, the weather was just too foul, and I really didn’t fancy the drive there and back with all the spray and what have you on the roads. I checked with the hospital that Mum didn’t need anything and would be OK until tomorrow, and they said she was. I still feel a bit bad though, but it is only the second day I’ve missed in this stay, ie the last six weeks. I didn’t just fritter the time saved anyway, I ploughed through about 4 months worth of bills, statements and correspondance filing, and did much sorting and chucking out too.

Chris is now in Sweden for the weekend (football, what else?), and I’ve got to start painting the kitchen walls tomorrow. No rest for the wicked!

Now, Mum has tested positive for a bug. Type 6/7 diarrhoea (Sarah, any definition?) and one helluva lot of it. There’s been an outbreak on the ward, and they even cancelled the doc’s non essential ward rounds today.

They’ve got her isolated in a side room again, with gloves/apron precautions, and a closed door policy. Oh, and they can’t do the colonoscopy until things have cleared up and she’s no longer infectious.

Is she ever going to get better?

This 4 days a week lark really has kicked in at the right time. Today, I:

Popped Minnifer up to my insurer’s approved repair place for their assessment, and booked it in for 3 weeks time.

Did some (not much as needs doing!) housework.

Saw my own GP as a follow up from last week - he’s a good guy, and we had a good talk. I’m seeing him again in 3 weeks.

Did some errands around town.

Saw the nurse at the surgery who put me on a new sort of pill three months ago (because of my age - pah!), and wanted to review things. Amazingly, my blood pressure is quite normal. It’s nice to have one bit of me that is…

Achieved a whole hour for lunch -whoop de doo!

Observed Bones making good use of the cat flap - in both directions! You may not be able to teach an old dog new tricks, but cats are another matter.

Went to visit Mum - her consulant psychiatrist also saw her today, and has advised the medics on the ward what dose they can increase her anti-depressants to if she gets as bad as last week again. On the Big D side, they’re planning a colonoscopy for her, which unlike the flexible sigmoidoscopy she had before (I’m learning so much!) which only looks at one little bit at the end of the bowel, looks at the whole damn thing, so they will hopefully unearth something at last. They will also take biopsies - as a matter of course I know, but still a word to strike terror in the heart. It will hopefully be done this week, but may fall into the early part of next week. Three nightdresses and one cardigan since I saw her last night. I came back via town where I bought her some more, I think a few extra to have in circulation were in order.

I did ask the thyroid question by the way, having checked with my doc this morning that it was physically possible - it looks like they have checked this as a matter of course, but Hosp Doc said she’d double check.

So there you go. Two Tuesdays off so far, and both pretty darn full. I’m booking next Tuesday to sleep and read (ducks and awaits the hurling of spanners into the works…)

Interesting comments on yesterday’s blog, thank you one and all.

Specifically : Nick/Andy, yes I know it’s easy to make symptons fit, but as Aoj said, if I don’t ask the question…oh, and Andy, thanks for the offer of a hammer, but am taking Minnifer to my insurer’s approved garage on Tuesday and am sorting it out as a claim. Let’s hear it for a protected no claims bonus… And Paul B, thank you too, milk is one of the first things Mum’s own GP told her to stop having way back before she went into hospital, so she stopped, the D didn’t, and since she’s been in and having porridge every morning (one of the few things she can swallow), it doesn’t seem to have made a blind bit of difference. The only pattern seems to be a mild improvement which lasts for a few days, then a big flare up again. But thanks for the thought, and if anyone else has any input…

Today’s visit saw yet more washing, and trying to keep Mum - well, not positive, who the hell would be in her shoes, but at least not so terribly down. Not easy. Not when I’m at my wits end too. She’s lost weight again (not a big surprise there), 3 kgs in the last week. I’ve left a note for the Doc’s ward round tomorow, and will insist on speaking to the consultant himself when I’m there on Tuesday. Any chance of Mum being able to come home in the foreseeable seems to be rapidly dwindling…and let’s not forget there is STILL more surgery to face later in the year.

I seem to remember blogging around the beginning of the year that 2007 was going to be pants. I really hate being right sometimes.

Yesterday marked 2 months to the date that Mum was discharged from Hospital A, and tomorrow marks 9 weeks to the day that Mum has had diarrhoea.

Overall, Mum has spent 8 weeks out of the last 10 in hospital, in 3 seperate goes.

The last 48 hours has seen a viscious return of the diarrhoea, which had seemed to be getting itself under control. In the last 24 hours, Mum has got through 5 nightdresses, two cardigans and a pair of slippers. Not having expcted her to have gotthrough all the clean washing I took yesterday evening, I had to make a second run to the hospital tonight with some more supplies.

The doc can’t tell me anything useful, so I’m resorting to the internet. And I may have found something. Mum has been hypothyroid (sub thyroid) for years. Many of her current symptons (excluding the diarrhoea) match hyperthyroid (overactive thyroid) - and a possible consequence of hyperthyroidism is…diarrhoea! Hmmm. So, can a hypo person bcome hyper? There’s a question to throw at them…

Aside from running to and fro from the hospital, I have finished the kitchen ceiling (5 coats in total - FIVE!!), bought Mum a new dressing gown, bought some paint for the kitchen walls from B&Q and spent a hour in the sun reading. Not bad.

Funnily enough, today hasn’t been too bad, perhaps because I have finally taken some action to help myself? Dunno, but echoing Mort’s Mom’s comment, I remember a doc telling me once to make the most of the good days, because they help you get through the grotty ones.

So I’m just taking today at face value, and being thankful for it. I’m not even too phased by the fact that we’ve had to get a chunk of the (not yet one year old) decking pulled up, because I heard a gentle hissing sound the other day, and it turns out that the useless plumber before the last useless plumber didn’t seal and bury the old garden tap properly, and there’s a wee underground spring thing going on…

Honestly. You couldn’t put all these events in a book about the life of one person over an 8 week period and expect people to believe it.

Thanks all of you for your kind comments yesterday. Blogging is probably the most carthartic thing I can do at the moment, and it really means one helluva lot to have such a nice, supportive, sympathetic readership. You guys are great. xx

When you’re pretty good at putting on a front for other people, it’s hard, really hard to finally admit to yourself - and those closest to you - just how bleak you’ve been feeling.

The events of Monday and yesterday (there was a reason you didn’t get a blog yesterday), finally made me see sense, talk properly to Chris, and admit that I need some extra help.

So I talked to the Doc today, and I’m back on anti-depressants.

I say back - I’ve had them twice before, once after Dad died, and once when Mum had a really bad breakdown (9 weeks on a psychiatric ward) at the same time as I was recovering from an unsuccessful shoulder operation.

All I can say is that it feels like I’ve been thrown a lifeline - I’ve been swimming against the tide for so long, and I’m so tired, and life keeps adding more weights to me, it gets harder and harder to keep my head above water. Now I’ve got something that will hopefully keep me afloat until some of the weights drop off.