It’s the 17th day of lockdown by my estimate. It started on 23 March, Dad’s 90th birthday. Weather is lovely and it’s the first time I’ve gone out without a jacket as there’s no chill in the air. I’m in my favourite blog-writing spot.
Am waiting for a call from Mum’s diabetes consultant, who’s looking after her directly now in the dedicated diabetes ward. She’s been moved from the coronary (cardiac?) care ward.
Mum is doing well now according to the nurses but the fear is that without proper three-times-a-day care she’ll end up having to be readmitted. Some cover can come from the district nurse but not all. Another problem is that the care must be given by someone who’s authorised to give insulin injections.
Once I’ve spoken to the consultant I can get on the phone to see what’s available through social services and privately. Unfortunately the carer agency the GP recommended has just been judged Inadequate by the Care Quality Commission.
In any case, I’m not actually sure whether anyone will be going out into the community giving care at the moment, or at least taking on new clients. At least I’ve got the holiday cottage until 4 June so can help out while looking for a permanent solution when the crisis ends.
Dad is slowly getting well and sleeping much better. The evenings are fine enough to sit out in the garden for a hour and it makes a big difference
What with everything else going on, I’d forgotten my car MOT. Luckily Norman Thorpe’s garage is open and fitted my car in straight away. Have also developed a tooth problem, but definitely going to ignore that and hope it goes away.
2022 and all that 