Day One – Meltdown

Today we brought Mum home from her scare home to live with us. The manager who had promised to keep Mum on a diabetic meal plan when she was borderline diabetic, did not keep her promise. Eventually, after numerous horrendous health issues caused or exacerbated by the ‘care’ provided, including Mum becoming fully diabetic due being fed cakes, biscuits and refined carbs continuously.

We tried to keep relations with the home as positive as possible by trying to invite the local authority social worker to come in and do a ‘best interests’ meeting, where they could officially request that the home feed Mum a diabetic safe diet. They ignored our request for the best part of 3 years.

Anyway, all attempts to do the right thing for Mum without confronting the scare home manager (who has a habit of screaming at families of residents and staff) were not successful. Instead, she sent a notice of eviction because she refused to do the right thing and actually care for my mother in a safe and appropriate way.

As we collected Mum this morning, this safe manager started whining about how sad it all was. I had to respond that it didn’t have to be like this and that hopefully within 3 months, after being put on a low carb healthy diet, Mum would no longer be diabetic.

We got Mum home (the car was packed from top to bottom with all of her accumulated stuff, from clothing and toiletries to a dementia radio, TV and a Christmas tree (that was up in her room all year round, obvs).

We unpacked the car and then went to park it together, so that we could walk home as one and watch Mum’s reaction. She wasn’t sure where she was, having not been here since early 2018…but she stopped at her old front door and said, ‘Is this the one?’

We both had tears and Mum looked very pleased with herself.

The first 30 minutes with Mum at home was bliss.

Little did we know what was to follow.

Mum suddenly became hysterical, agitated, angry and unpleasant. She was so furious and disoriented that she was speaking gibberish and in a total state of panic. We managed to get her to agree to go for a short walk up to the local shop and all was well…until Mum complained of sore feet. She started wincing as she hobbled along. I then discovered, that Mum’s toes are covered in dressings that need to be changed by a district nurse. Needless to say, that has not been arranged as I had no prior knowledge.

Possibly made worse by the awful pain in her feet, Mum continued to lose the plot. She started trying to leave the house, going up and down many flights of stairs (it’s a townhouse) crying in pain from her feet and saying that she wanted to go home. This culminated in her peeing in the bath. Not whilst she was in it, but when she refused to sit on the toilet and instead sat on the edge of the bath to go. Thank goodness it was only a pee.

Mum then started calling out for her late husband (my step monster – search ‘Only Dead on the Inside’ for more info), who she hasn’t mentioned in at least 5 years. Oh, Lordy!

We are now in a calmer state, trying to get her to eat enough supper – I am feeding her – and have put on a favourite movie: Thoroughly Modern Millie.

No idea how the next few hours will pan out and whether we will actually get Mum to sleep in her room and whether or not she will stay there or try to make a nighttime escape in her ‘jamas. We are also taking bets on how many times I will be up in the night to take her to the loo…and whether she will use the actual loo or any other bathroom receptacle.

As I type, the comments about, “Isn’t it time for me to go home now?” have started. When I say comments – I am being given filthy looks and she is absolutely furious.

This is going to be a very, very long night.

* UPDATE – 21:00 – Mum is enjoying the film and laughing. About an hour ago she got up saying that she needed to get home. We said to her that she was staying over tonight so we could go out for the day tomorrow. She wasn’t sure about it but accepted it begrudgingly and calmed down. About 15 minutes ago, she said, “I am waiting for this to finish so I can go to sleep.” I mentioned that she would be spending the night here, to which she replied, “Not just one night, many nights.” I asked if she understood that she would be staying here with us for many nights and she said, “yes, I will be staying here with you always.” I asked if she was happy to do that and she said, “yes!” Please God Mum remembers this information from here on in, or at least some of the time.

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