Life is a bit tough at the moment.
Mum’s dementia is taking up much of my time. I’ve been to the GP with her twice now and fortunately he’s bright enough to see through her deceptions.
She’s dehydrated, not taking her meds and is increasingly confused and forgetful.
Much of it, we think, is due to her diabetes and dehydration.
She’s refused a visit from the local mental health team but we learned yesterday that they don’t give up easily. A surprise visit by her assigned key worker found Mum partially dressed in a blanket with wet socks on and a spill in the kitchen. The woman sorted things out but when we visited late that day Mum made little of the call. As we drove home from a visit we got a call from the health worker who discretely asked where we thought things were up to. After a few minutes we agreed we were reading from the same page and a new meeting has been arranged for next week. Twice daily help is now a mutual goal – and all this from a five minute phone call.
My second daughter is struggling with thoughts of her future. Like most people her age, she has no clear ambitions and I think may be starting to panic. She takes this frustration out on me and Gill who are already exhausted from dealing with Mum.
My oldest daughter has given up on her weight loss until after Christmas and says that her chest hurts when she walks quickly. Her course is going well and she’s looking into further Uni level study. Her school practice is less good with lots of donkey work and little contact with the kids.
My youngest hasn’t fainted for a while but is taking medication which should help. However, her school work is excellent and she’s even plucked up the courage to go on an outward bound course.
Ashley’s psoriasis has flared up again and we’re having to fight to get his physio to treat his right arm which doesn’t fully straighten. His development has plateaued and there’s a worrying amount of repetition in his speech.
Gill is medicated but chooses to sleep on the living room sofa. She’s told me that this does not reflect on me in any way but she is my love and life and it hurts me to not be able to make things better for her. She’s taken a lot on with supporting Mum and actually seems to enjoy the focus.
Sadly her niece’s boyfriend hung himself so her (the niece) mental stability isn’t good. Gill’s visited her in hospital where she’s medicated and working her way through handling her grief. The boy’s family haven’t invited her to the funeral…..
The six people I’m closest to are all struggling in different ways. My inability to fix things wears away at me and is a burden.
My physical health is good. My work pushes me hard and I feel tired every evening. Walking a mile and half to each shift and generally topping 7 miles each day (Sometimes 10). My blood pressure is an ok 130/80 and my weight gives me a BMI of 27.
Emotionally I’m struggling though. Getting tearful while watching TV series is becoming embarrassingly common but my temper is controlled.
The kids know how to press my buttons but I know when I’m sinking into a funk and can turn things round.
Laughter is medicinal in our house so I try to generate what I can. This has helped a lot with my youngest who’s always been fearful of the big loud daddybloke.
When I get home Gill and I generally have a catch up on anything she hasn’t messaged me about during my shift. This amongst all the chaos of bedtime and prepping for the next school day.
It’s no wonder I’m averaging about 4 and a half hours sleep, occasionally collapsing into a 7 hour coma!
But all in all Life is good.
I can see my girls developing into strong women, my wife will come out of her tunnel one day and we cope with Ashley on a day to day basis. Mum’s progression is what it is and we’ll all we can to make her comfortable and happy.
And Christmas is coming!
