B was very rudely awakened by me on Friday morning. Now I personally am not a morning person. I’m better than I use to be, in that I can hold a conversation now before 10 am but I still need a bit of a warm up. I used to go into work for 7:30 which may seem strange but this gave me chance to come round quietly rather than having to speak to people as soon as I got in.
Now Tommy, the 10 month old extremely energetic puppy, seemed to know this. He would get out of his basket and stretch his way over to me for a morning tickle in a quiet and laid back manner but would want a mad five minutes before bedtime. With B he would bounce all over him from first awakening. My mother in law however does not pick up on my morning vibes and therefore this resulted in her ‘baby’ having a somewhat sudden wake up call.
We were on holiday last week. According to Bernard this meant I had two hours and 24 minutes holiday per day because of my limited hours – I should have been so lucky.
I went to the acupuncturist on Monday and then again on Tuesday because I got the appointments mixed up. Oops. Bernard went to his mum’s.
Tuesday I went to the acupuncturist again then we went to B’s mum’s to see the social worker. I don’t think I pulled the bed clothes up high enough when I stayed there and she complained. No, it was really because she got stuck in the bath, the doctor suggested Careline so she can have an emergency button to press.
My husband’s selective hearing proved to be fully functioning because when I whispered to Tommy that we had a busy day because we had to see if we could get Grandma Mary shipped off to a nursing home he heard me fine.
So after Tommy was collected on Wednesday we went to Mary’s just to check she was okay and ended up staying all day. We left in a bit of a rush when I remembered I hadn’t collected my prescription but when this worked out very smoothly B suggested we went back to his mum’s for tea and then the rest of the week was ours. Ha!
‘Have you come back for your tea? Oh, that’s good!’
‘Yes, what do you want from the chippy?’
‘Oh, nothing I’ve had mine.’
Bearing in mind we had taken all of 20 minutes… Mary had managed to put away the dishes I’d washed from lunch time, make a sandwich and a cup of tea and eat and drink them.
When Bernard said we would go home then she looked really dejected and so we ended up asking did she want to say with us and she could have a bath and we could do her washing. However Wednesday night she changed her mind about the bath. I had to help her change into her nightie and get into bed and sort her nightie out because it was twisted and help her get dressed in the morning. Have I mentioned these things are NOT MY DEPARTMENT.
I rang the doctors and got Mary an appointment. We had to take her on Thursday because the doctor available on Friday was the last one my father in law saw before his heart attack and Mary basically blames him for it (he’s not responsible).
So we came back from the doctors with steroids and lansoprazole for possible polymyalgia rheumatic and with Mary saying she will take the paracetamol previously prescribed and fish and chips – I know it’s amazing what they give out.
So for the next five hours I say yes, I write down what you need to take when about 50 times.
After thinking about it to ensure there are the minimum of queries I wrote it down.
On getting up before getting dressed
1 Lansoprazole (box left on dressing table, with plastic cup at side of wash basin for water)
With breakfast – 8 o’clock
With lunch – 12 o’clock
With tea – between 4 and 5 o’clock
With supper – 9 o’clock at night
So how many questions could result from this? Go on guess.
Can you write down at the side when I take them?
Will you write down how many I take?
Can you write down at the side there when I take them?
Which tablets do I take?
When do I take them?
Will you write that down?
It says it there.
Left Prednisone and Paracetamol on kitchen worktop near kettle with list (after taking paracetamol out of blister pack and putting in box as Mary couldn’t take these out without breaking them and this potentially could result in one tablet suddenly becoming two).
So strangely by the next lot of tablets we’d had a few phone calls.
Friday morning I was to ring as agreed and check but Mary got there first at 7:45. I was in the kitchen getting coffee because I felt the need for caffeine before ringing.
Two phone calls later lasting about 30 minutes including things like, where are they, how many, which ones, what do I do with them, do I swallow them (I kid you not).
While answering these I had to look the name of the steroid up on the NHS website because I couldn’t remember it exactly and Mary had found a box of antibiotics and managed to include them in the mix. I’d looked at polymyalgia rheumatic the previous day and found it quite informative so I decided I’d look at multiple myeloma too. So I was giving it a quick once over whilst saying things like yes, no, two big ones, one little one, water, have some breakfast, throw them away, yes put them in your mouth.
Eventually I got off the phone and normally would just have maybe swore and then got on with stuff but not Friday morning. Friday morning I went into the bedroom where Bernard has just turned over and pulled the duvet up so just a bit of his head was sticking out and I poked this bit of his head repeatedly until he woke up and then I said…
‘According to the NHS website I’ve got three years* left and at this rate I’m going to spend two and a half on the phone to YOUR mother discussing tablets.’ (Maybe a little harsh, maybe not compared to what came next.)
B: ‘What about that thing with the radiotherapy we read about yesterday?’
Me: ‘Of course I’m going to last longer than that.’
B: ‘OK, well she is 82.’
Me: ‘Don’t make me pull my Auntie Eleanor out of the bag.’ (With a bit of finger pointing)
B: ‘Yes, but…’
Me: ‘Yes but, your mother passed the dementia test so that must mean she is just thick!’ (Ohhhhh – I can perhaps be a little cutting when exasperated!)
And on that note two final bits of information one courtesy of Bernard and one from a friend.
It isn’t socially acceptable to gesticulate wildly and hit one’s spouse on the arm when you are carrying a bag of dog poo
In-laws are worse than outlaws.
* I know from other things that this figure varies greatly but you can always rely on the NHS to brighten up your morning.