Day 28

I can't cope.

My mum has been in hospital for four weeks now and it seems to be all about complications and apathy. Without going into too much detail she has a medical condition but is on a rehab ward with no doctor; we got a duty doctor called but he arrived at 3am, my mum was asleep so he didn't bother to see her OR organise any follow-up. She's in a lot of pain and distress; they've done NO follow-up testing to see if the treatments are even working and they give her paracetamol only occasionally. On top of that she's at serious risk of dehydration because she just can't / won't drink enough. I'm looking at having to quit work now so I can look after her while she's still in hospital because it's that bad!

The cat's paw thankfully seems to have healed, the plumbing crisis has been fixed (thank you, dad!) but naturally now *I* am having a health scare too.

The bit that finished me off though was my daughter's uni finances application which I hate on principal and always get super stressed out over but this time ended up with the entire family screaming and me getting the blame for everything. My father started banging on "there's no point having a panic attack" ...well thanks for that astute observation you absolute FUCKTARD! Not like it's a matter of choice and you're not bloody helping. Complete bloody moron.

I just want everything to STOP.

Day Nineteen

My mum is starting to make some baby steps toward progress. We guessed at the outset that this was going to be a long hard journey...I don't especially like being right but I feel it's better to plan for the hard stuff than setting yourself up for disappointment expecting it to be easy. I'd rather fear a difficult recuperation and be right (or pleasantly surprised if it's 'not that bad') than anticipate a speedy recovery and be disheartened.

So...she's starting to spend a bit more time awake and alert; she's doing better enunciating and projecting her voice - more than half the trouble understanding her is how quietly she's been talking, especially difficult in a noisy ward with lots of distractions.

Tonight though we had a little bit of a hiccup. Toward the end of our visit my mum asked if her parents were alright...

As I said in an earlier post my grandad, her dad, was left severely incapacitated from a stroke. He died, aged 91, in 2000 from related causes. Her mum died, aged 95, just a matter of weeks later - also, as it turns out, from a stroke.

My mum cared for them from the outset right to the very end so the fact she'd lost track of those memories came as quite a shock. Not only that, but they died a long time ago - back when my kids were really small so the fact she recognises them as being adults (and me as a middle-aged woman) seems a tad incongruous.

At the same time I'm seeing it as progress - she's thinking more about life outside of her hospital bed, of people and things that are important to her...even if she's getting a bit muddled on the details.

She took the 'news' pretty well. Thankfully it didn't seem like she was going to grieve them over again. However, she is starting to get a tad depressed as the realisation of how ill she's been starts to dawn on her. For two and a half weeks she's been in a weird kind of bubble of existing in a hospital bed and just accepting that's how things are but now she's remembering a life outside of that and feeling frustrated she isn't better yet...there's a lot of hard stuff still to come, I think.

22 - 40 - 70-something

When my mum turned 40 I was 6. Her dad was 75...and that's when he had a severe and debilitating stroke. He lived another 16 years, dying in 2000 when I was 22.

I have a 22 year old daughter. I turned 40 a month ago. I feel like I have aged 40 years in the last week: my 73-and-a-half year old mum just had a stroke.

On Sunday my mum came over for a roast dinner. We talked for hours. I keep thinking of odd things that came up - like her spotting my old baby blanket (which was also my daughters' when they came along) in my cat's wicker carrying basket, or her interest in modern washable sanitary pads

Just over 24 hours and a migraine later I was just about to step into the shower when I heard the phone ring. My 22 year old daughter, Erin, answered and a moment later said, perfectly calmly, "Mum, emergency". In fact, it was so calm that's what got my attention. It still seems weird that it all began so low-key.

My stepdad had been trying to get hold of my mum - she spends most of her time with him but still has a flat here; she values her freedom and independence - she finally answered and he couldn't understand her. He rang me and raised the alarm. Erin and I don't drive but my dad lives next door...minutes later we were tearing across town, split between fearing the worst, and imagining how pissed my mum would be for us pestering her!

I've hardly known which way was up since then. This week has been all about difficult phone calls and decisions and whole lot of adulting...I just want to do colouring in my blanket fort!

My mum is stable and has finally been moved onto a specialist stroke unit but I don't feel like the stress will let up any time soon.

I am so grateful I had my kids young. I couldn't imagine going through this with a 6 year old to look after. Think about that if you're ever inclined to judge teen parents!

I'm glad I had such a good mid-life crisis.


Update:
I described that first week as the longest seventeen months of my life. When we got past the seventeen month mark we agreed that for a randomly selected time period it was pretty spot-on. 
Mum's stroke was described as 'severe' and she had multiple points of damage in both hemispheres.