Tuesday

The plan today was for it to be a Just Me And The Dog day.

That was the plan.

Lesley was going to take her dad for a taste of what it might be like to be in a modern care home with an extended visit to The Home with lunch and some of the afternoon activities.

That was the plan.

I could’ve joined them but with The Dog being so Ableist we couldn’t trust her around so many walking frames and wheelchairs. My plan was to go on a longer and muddier walk with The Dog than Lesley would be comfortable with and get home in time for a Zoom call with The Vicar to construct an order of service for Mum’s cremation.

My bit of the day went pretty well. The Walk was just as long and muddy as The Dog and I were hoping and she behaved impeccably. The Vicar was absolutely lovely. She and Mum thought the world of each other. I always feel so much calmer after I’ve spoken to her.

Elsewhere, however, plans went awry pretty early on.

We thought that Lesley’s dad would be feeling better after initial doses of antibiotics yesterday. His carer messaged us to say Dad was on good form, that he seemed to looking forward to his trip out and had been asking lots of questions about care homes. Dad was going to go and sit in his armchair while the carer finished some bits upstairs before leaving.

Moments later, the carer was on the phone.

“Something’s wrong.”

While the carer had been upstairs, Dad had got to his armchair, plonked himself in it and let out a cry of agony.

“My first thought was that he’d sat on his balls. But I got him back upstairs, refitted his underwear and everything seemed OK. I’ve put him back in bed but he’s still in pain. He can’t tell me what it is or where it hurts.”

Lesley flew out of the door.

His GP surgery were great. Another appointment with the doctor he’d seen yesterday. The 111 service was great too. Calm, empathetic, patient, thorough… Well, as thorough as is possible when trying to diagnose a problem and recommend a course of action over the phone.

“He needs to see a doctor within two hours”

“I’ve got him an appointment later this afternoon”

“Haven’t they got anything earlier?”

“If they had, wouldn’t they have given it to me?”

“Well, yes, they would. But the clinician on duty said I had to ask you.”

Nothing to do but wait.

The GP was as good as he’d been yesterday and the necessary meds were prescribed. Lesley phoned.

“I’ve taken his prescription to Boots here and they’ve just run out. I phoned his pharmacy in the village and they never hold this. Can you start ringing round to find out who’s open and who’s still got this stuff in stock?”

It only took me one call.

Some time later…

“I’ve got him home and he’s having some soup. He does seem a lot better already.”

“I know! I just checked the camera. He looks completely different. Yeah, he’s wobbly but just normally wobbly. Not oddly wobbly.”

Lesley unloaded when she got home.

“One thing was strange… When we were talking to the 111 lady this morning he said the pain was the worst he’d ever known. When the doctor asked him this afternoon he said he was just uncomfortable. It was like he’d completely forgotten.”

I’d forgotten something too. The impact of his meds. My horrifically amateur diagnosis had focussed on his poor diet with a high proportion of protein, his chronic severe dehydration and his sedentary lifestyle and I came up with kidney stones.

What the doctor saw was that the side effect of one the painkillers was constipation.

Constipation!

“He really perked up when I got him back home. He’s had some soup. I offered him some biscuits. He said he only wanted one but ate three. He’s had glasses of juice and cups of tea…”

“What I noticed is how different he looks. He was proper poorly over Christmas and from the way he was talking it seemed like he thought he was about to check out and he’d given up. Now he knows he’s not dying he’s perfectly happy!”

Bloody hell.

Author’s Note

My Mum is in a nursing home in a small village in the Thames Valley. The photo is not of the home. I used an AI image generator to give the reader some idea of the home she’s in.

All, some or maybe even none (you’ll never know!) of the names have been changed to protect privacy and hide real identities. If you think you recognise someone then let me know and I’ll edit the post or remove it entirely