2022 and all that

Mum’s spent her first night at home and is very poorly. She’s developed another chest infection and temperature. She’s not really eating and her sugar levels are heading skywards again with ketones beginning to appear, though so far just on the borderline of needing extra treatment. With her so ill, there’s a bitter irony to the continuing gorgeous weather.

It’s clear she now needs 24 hour professional nursing care. Before the latest decline, I spent yesterday fielding calls from rapid response nurses, district nurses and various hospital departments. All gave me different messages and none give a call-back number.

Now the district nurse has reported Mum’s condition to the GP and I’ve phoned the GP reception. The GP is going to call me and Dad shortly and we can decide on the next step. Will update later.

Just been chatting to the ambulance paramedics summoned by a 999 call from the GP, the district nurse, Mum and Dad with the GP chipping in on the phone. Everyone seemed very happy to take their time, chatting good natured and enjoying the sun, kitted out in gowns and masks.

The upshot is that Mum is competent and doesn’t want to go to hospital or into respite care. If she were to go to hospital, she’d have to go to the red (covid) entrance as she has a temperature. Mum doesn’t seem to have a cough at least, so it’s not clear what’s wrong. The GP phoned round and no one will take her into respite care anyway, given she has a temperature.

Back to square one! Dad is totally frazzled, but I left them both peacefully eating lunch in the conservatory. Mum gave most of hers to the dog.

I phoned Call Derbyshire, which is essentially the social services, and went through the long interview process in an attempt to get more help. We should get an assessment within 28 days. Hmmm.

Things do seem fractionally better than they did this morning, but still a huge burden on Dad and no real solution in sight.

Short version of today’s news: Mum was discharged and the district nurses sent her straight back to hospital as they judged the situation unsafe. Dad’s just phoned to say that the hospital are sending her back home again. Stop press: the hospital diabetes nurse has just phoned me to try and sort out the best way forward, which seems to be to find someone capable of doing Mum’s lunchtime blood test and insulin injection in the long term.

The hospital discharged Mum on a wing and a prayer yesterday. She had a very complicated and detailed care plan with nurses visiting twice daily and Dad and me supervising a lunchtime blood test and injection. A nighttime blood test also had to be taken.

I spent a sleepless night doing my own risk assessment before Mum arrived. I’m on the list of people who are very vulnerable to Covid-19 because I’m immunosuppressed due to my arthritis. I’ve been helping Dad but distancing from him (especially given his cough). I made the painful decision that I can’t go within 6 feet of Mum either, at least until she’s been out of hospital for a week or so. I tried to discuss this with Dad and the need to isolate Mum for a while on discharge from hospital, but he couldn’t or wouldn’t grasp the idea and had immediate contact with her.

On arrival, Mum promptly went to sleep in her hospital pyjamas and seemed well but pale, tired and a bit disoriented, as you would after a month in hospital.

Mum was accompanied by a dauntingly enormous bag of medications, complete with new blood test meter, which remained unopened, even though she’d supposedly been taught to use it in hospital. Of course Dad and me didn’t have a clue what to do with it either but we’ll be able to get to grips with it I’m sure.

I hovered by the door and we were immediately out of our depth, when Mum was roused and couldn’t manage to take a blood test (using her old meter), even with Dad’s help, and refused to eat lunch. Dad gave her an insulin dose anyway, against all the rules. No one could communicate because of deafness. Mum closed her eyes beatifically and said the nurses would sort everything out when they arrived.

The district nurses weren’t the stereotypical motherly figures I was half-expecting but very young, bright and totally on the ball. They immediately pronounced the situation unsafe until they could control it totally themselves, especially considering that I won’t be here for ever and will eventually go home to Cardiff.

The nurses, Holly and Jack, would prefer to get Mum on a twice a day insulin regime that they can manage themselves with twice daily visits without any possibility of failure. The hospital have already said that this is impossible because Mum’s insulin levels are so sensitive. The nurses judged the plan excellent but unworkable at home.

It was heart-wrenching to see Mum getting back in the ambulance yesterday but now it looks as though she’ll be back later today after all. At least the hospital, the district nurses and me have plainly stated our positions, so hopefully we can find a safe solution for Mum.

A lot of wrangling has been going on and misinformation has been exchanged with the hospital. One nurse told Dad I could wear mask and gown, despite the fact we haven’t got any masks and gowns and in any case they are single-use so we’d need loads! I’m also beginning to wonder whether the info we’ve been given by the hospital about agency nurses not working through the crisis is correct either, so am doing my own research and waiting callbacks.

Not much other news, but I did see the village peacock sauntering down the road yesterday evening.

Another gorgeous day. Up at Dethick church with no friend to chat to but I’ve passed more dog walkers than normal today.

Yesterday got a translation about training back from a client complaining about my use of terminology in a translation about training (his phrasing): “aptitudes it is not even an English word”. Sigh…where to start in replying?

Yesterday the DLH support WhatsApp disintegrated into an exchange of acrimony and long rants about advertising meat and veg delivery services offered by the next village. A few people left the group. Now they’re talking about celebrating VE Day and have hopefully moved on.

I had a long chat to the specialist diabetic nurse on Mum’s ward. She phoned me to tell me the hospital transport was booked today at 9 am to bring Mum home. Dad says she hasn’t arrived yet and the ward phone is engaged, so will update later.

Another lovely day. I almost think it’s the hottest, clearest day yet – and that’s saying something.

Last night I caught up with my VAT paperwork and this morning I finished my assessment reports on the two Translation MA students I’ve been mentoring at Cardiff University. We started meeting in person before the lockdown and then managed to carry on with weekly Skype meetings.

Once I’d got all that done, I made a late start and met Maggie for coffee at Dethick church. It was incredibly therapeutic to talk to someone for an hour or so. Being so close to where we grew up as children sparked all sorts of memories.

I phoned Mum’s ward and found that one of the specialist diabetic nurses has been seconded to the ward and, better still, is looking after Mum. The nurse said that Mum was having a good day and understood her care plan. She says the doctors are keen for Mum to be discharged but that everyone is aware she will be very high risk when being cared for at home. Otherwise Mum is clinically fit and could be sent home as soon as tomorrow. I’m not holding my breath but feeling cautiously optimistic.

The DLH WhatsApp support group seems to be undergoing some internal strife due to the local shop feeling resentful about the food parcels being put together by the group leaders. There are more scarecoronas.

I’ve been amusing myself by looking out for a new second hand car. It might be a good time to buy and I’ve certainly got more time to look than usual. Petrol could become very cheap in the short term. Today the news was that some oil prices have dropped below zero dollars per barrel in the US, i.e. the producers are having to pay to have it taken away. All eco concerns seem to have temporarily gone by the board in the new global reality.

Another beautiful day with a slight breeze and cloudless blue sky today. It’s almost uncanny.

Trending on the DLH WhatsApp support group: getting hold of yeast for home baking. Plus another scarecorona.

News from Italy: Debora posted a photo of her and baby Valerio in hospital.

Rosina (Wachtmeister), my famous neighbour in Capena has produced another of her cats. Mum would love it. She’s a big fan.

Yesterday I watched a bit of the One World Together at Home concert. It was strangely unsatisfying to see Paul McCartney not quite pulling off Lady Madonna. At least he didn’t give us “Hey Jude”. You’d think he could afford a better microphone. Some of the others made valiant efforts. All of it was a bit reminiscent of TV in the 1960s and 1970s: pared down and amateurish with bad sound.

Leon sent me a kind of plan for coming out of lockdown yesterday. It was in The Sun so it must be right.

Mum’s ward is engaged or the phone’s left to ring out so far. Will try later.