Hopsital visiting

I went to see my mother yesterday. She has been on the tube feeding for a week and is looking a bit better. Still very sleepy but I suspect that may have something to do with whatever drugs they are giving her. When I went in she didn't have the tube inserted but after talking to the nurse later I learned that was because she had had some trouble with it and they were going to reinsert it later. However, she has still a long way to go before getting home.

And home is where she wants to be. I've had a form from the social work department wanting to do a financial assessment on her with a view to putting her into a care home. She wants to go home, not into care. I don't see why she can't go home if the hospital can get her strength back up and deal with getting the Crohns under control. Having the home care visits four times a day and the red alert button in case of problems worked before. She actually said she was looking forward to going back to the day centre, as well. Of course, all of this is relying on the hospital getting her health improved and she's not there yet so not in a position to go into care or back home.

Last week, with what the hospital told me I thought it was curtains. Now I'm thinking that maybe there is a possiblity that she will be back home.

A walk on the beach

I went for a walk on the beach at Saltcoats today. I haven't been on the beach for years although I used to practically inhabit it every summer as a child and I used to love winter walks on it with my dog. I went to the beach before I went to visit my mother in the hospital. I wanted to talk with my ancestors who walked this same beach over the centuries.

It was a lovely sunny day, and warm. I walked along the road from my parents' house, through the caravan park (past the slaughterhouse that some fool thought was a really good idea next to a holiday site!) and over the railway bridge to the sand dunes. I used to be on this beach, among these dunes and in the water every summer but since moving away from Saltcoats I've not been on the beach in years.

So I went to the beach to talk to my ancestors about the situation with my mother, asking them to help. I have so many memories of being on the beach, of being taken there when very young by my mother. I was doing OK until the skylark took flight. The song of the skylark is a sound I always associate with the beach as so many of them nest on the dunes. I remembered my mother telling me about them and I got a bit upset.

My mother is in that liminal stage of hovering between life and death. It can go either way. Yesterday she was looking quite good and was talking with myself and her cousin who was visiting. Today, when I went to see her, things were very different. Before I even entered her room I heard her calling for help. When I went in she was complaining about the feed tube in her nose so I went for the nurse. He told me that they had had some problems with the tube last night and that there was a wire down it today to enable them to take an xray. This wire was causing her to be uncomfortable but would be removed as soon as the xrays had been checked. However, there seemed to be more going on than that as she was very agitated and very out of it, asking me to check the gate was shut and asking who was at the door. She was also calling for her parents and I have never heard her do that before.

She remained very agitated throughout the visit. It was upsetting but I had to not show that it was. I held it together until returning to my parents' house but I do have to admit to driving on autopilot, something I must not do. I had to shake myself metaphorically a few times.

I will be down again tomorrow as it's the bank holiday and I'm off. Perhaps she may be back to how she was on Saturday but it was a dramatic and unsettling change. I will go there tomorrow not knowing what to expect or whether there will be an urgent call in the middle of the night.