This WILL read like a blog to begin with. But there are things I will record here that do not belong in a blog proper.
Left a message with GP's surgery, asking him to ring back and leave message on 'phone if he were happy to continue to look after Brian. (He rang back while I was at care home saying yes, but wishes to talk to me within next two or three days.)
To BH for 12 p.m. lunch. Brian in electrically operated recliner chair under rather loud TV. I asked for it to be turned down - several sighs of relief round the lounge. Brian then needed the loo, hoisted into wheelchair with Stand-Aid and gone for nearly half an hour.
Fed him about half of each course as very tired after hoisting and changing. Fell asleep and I was asked to go and see Pam, Head of Nursing, and Manager. Manager seemed to think I had agreed to have different GP, i.e. of their choosing. Said I had spoken to "their" GP last evening and he said he thought he was "there on a false errand" as I clearly hoped to continue with our own GP. Doc. S. had said he would be happy to step in if our own GP could not continue. Told Manager all of that and said I was waiting for our own GP to let me know. He then left the room.
Long chat then with Pam, charming woman and I think we agreed on everything. She particularly wanted to know more about "Compassionate Communication with the Memory-Impaired" (I had asked if I could tape a copy of it up in Brian's room) and I said I'd take in some copies. Finally left the CH at 2.20, as yet lunchless.
Home to eat, delighted to get our GP's reply on telephone message, read mail, get together Comp. Communication, list of Brian's health problems for Pam and Ward, clean clothes for Brian (think they were sweated into rather than wet), and left again at 4.40 to help Brian with his tea.
He ate only half the scrambled egg but finished large dish of yogurt. He fell asleep at about 6.15 (takes him a long time to eat anything), very tired, while what I took to be sundowning going on across the lounge. First time I have witnessed it. One chap shouting "Oy, oy, oy, oy!" sharply at his immediate neighbour and banging the table between them while she serenely ignored him. Another rather anxious lady at the tea-table expressed the view that "All men are dirty devils." Others seemed to be just frail elderly sat tutting at "bad manners".
Another elderly lady asked a care assistant (looking across at Brian and me) "Is that that lady's son or her husband she's with?" which made me smile. The CA explained Brian was my husband and, I think, gently reprimanded her for speaking out so loudly about us. I looked straight at the old lady and said "I don't mind at all. My husband is new here and I am just helping him settle." We beamed at each other.
Had to fill out yet more forms to-day, crossing out lots of clauses in the Agreement with the care home, all of those, in fact, that related to fees. Their Agreement relating to fees should be with the CHC Team rather than with me. Then another form headed "A bit about you", meaning Brian, hobbies, children, grandchildren, qualifications, holidays, previous job - and then "Lifetime Achievements". Bit stumped by that one. Dear Brian left school at 14, had ten years in the Merchant Navy, then worked hard for the rest of his working life providing for me and our three boys. Time was running short before next visit to care home so wrote in (and wondered if it would even be read or just go straight into a file) "79 years of love, honesty and loyalty." I smiled and welled as I wrote it.
All seems to be going very well at the moment. Pam told me she had been "coaxed out of retirement" to do her present job and she would not be doing it if she did not believe the CH was striving to do well. She had walked out of other jobs where care had not been the prime concern. She (along with all of you) said I needed to slow down, re-charge my batteries, get back some life of my own, hopefully learn to put my trust in the CH (although she realised I had been let down by an earlier one) and get back in touch with old friends.
I told her that even the hospital had had its shortcomings and that I had filed a formal complaint. "Who through?" she asked, and I said the P.A.L.S. office, and she said "Good." She said that when she had been to the ward to do her assessment of Brian, she had been told by the nurse that all Brian could say was "No!" and yet when she had come to say "Hallo" to him and asked him how he was, he had come out with a full sentence, "I am a bit worried about my vision ..." - he has a cataract developing in one eye and it was bothering him that day.
I told her how on Monday - golly, only yesterday - one of the nurses washing and changing him in the morning had chatted non-stop to her colleague. At one point she said "I'd love to have some chickens. I like the idea of chickens scratching around the garden. My dad kept chickens. I'd like to keep some as well." Brian had been getting slightly stressed by this stream of talk, none of it directed at him although he thought some of it could or might have been. He chimed in suddenly with "Did your dad lock you in the chicken shed?" looking at her with a rather hostile expression on his face. I wanted to laugh aloud and thought "Spot on, Bri", but just beamed at him instead and said "Your dad used to keep a few chickens, didn't he" and Brian relaxed a bit. Pam smiled and said "But that is such bad nursing" and we agreed that the focus should have been on Brian. Okay if you are standing at a conveyor belt packing sweets or something, but not across the body of a rather helpless hospital patient.
I have rattled on for far too long. Time to go and make my milky drink and go to bed. I am visiting Brian only once tomorrow - that is my intention at the moment, anyway. I must try and start to "pull back" a little. I am pleased so far with what I have seen at the care home.
My love to all those of you who have helped me through these last few weeks.
Nan XXX
Left a message with GP's surgery, asking him to ring back and leave message on 'phone if he were happy to continue to look after Brian. (He rang back while I was at care home saying yes, but wishes to talk to me within next two or three days.)
To BH for 12 p.m. lunch. Brian in electrically operated recliner chair under rather loud TV. I asked for it to be turned down - several sighs of relief round the lounge. Brian then needed the loo, hoisted into wheelchair with Stand-Aid and gone for nearly half an hour.
Fed him about half of each course as very tired after hoisting and changing. Fell asleep and I was asked to go and see Pam, Head of Nursing, and Manager. Manager seemed to think I had agreed to have different GP, i.e. of their choosing. Said I had spoken to "their" GP last evening and he said he thought he was "there on a false errand" as I clearly hoped to continue with our own GP. Doc. S. had said he would be happy to step in if our own GP could not continue. Told Manager all of that and said I was waiting for our own GP to let me know. He then left the room.
Long chat then with Pam, charming woman and I think we agreed on everything. She particularly wanted to know more about "Compassionate Communication with the Memory-Impaired" (I had asked if I could tape a copy of it up in Brian's room) and I said I'd take in some copies. Finally left the CH at 2.20, as yet lunchless.
Home to eat, delighted to get our GP's reply on telephone message, read mail, get together Comp. Communication, list of Brian's health problems for Pam and Ward, clean clothes for Brian (think they were sweated into rather than wet), and left again at 4.40 to help Brian with his tea.
He ate only half the scrambled egg but finished large dish of yogurt. He fell asleep at about 6.15 (takes him a long time to eat anything), very tired, while what I took to be sundowning going on across the lounge. First time I have witnessed it. One chap shouting "Oy, oy, oy, oy!" sharply at his immediate neighbour and banging the table between them while she serenely ignored him. Another rather anxious lady at the tea-table expressed the view that "All men are dirty devils." Others seemed to be just frail elderly sat tutting at "bad manners".
Another elderly lady asked a care assistant (looking across at Brian and me) "Is that that lady's son or her husband she's with?" which made me smile. The CA explained Brian was my husband and, I think, gently reprimanded her for speaking out so loudly about us. I looked straight at the old lady and said "I don't mind at all. My husband is new here and I am just helping him settle." We beamed at each other.
Had to fill out yet more forms to-day, crossing out lots of clauses in the Agreement with the care home, all of those, in fact, that related to fees. Their Agreement relating to fees should be with the CHC Team rather than with me. Then another form headed "A bit about you", meaning Brian, hobbies, children, grandchildren, qualifications, holidays, previous job - and then "Lifetime Achievements". Bit stumped by that one. Dear Brian left school at 14, had ten years in the Merchant Navy, then worked hard for the rest of his working life providing for me and our three boys. Time was running short before next visit to care home so wrote in (and wondered if it would even be read or just go straight into a file) "79 years of love, honesty and loyalty." I smiled and welled as I wrote it.
All seems to be going very well at the moment. Pam told me she had been "coaxed out of retirement" to do her present job and she would not be doing it if she did not believe the CH was striving to do well. She had walked out of other jobs where care had not been the prime concern. She (along with all of you) said I needed to slow down, re-charge my batteries, get back some life of my own, hopefully learn to put my trust in the CH (although she realised I had been let down by an earlier one) and get back in touch with old friends.
I told her that even the hospital had had its shortcomings and that I had filed a formal complaint. "Who through?" she asked, and I said the P.A.L.S. office, and she said "Good." She said that when she had been to the ward to do her assessment of Brian, she had been told by the nurse that all Brian could say was "No!" and yet when she had come to say "Hallo" to him and asked him how he was, he had come out with a full sentence, "I am a bit worried about my vision ..." - he has a cataract developing in one eye and it was bothering him that day.
I told her how on Monday - golly, only yesterday - one of the nurses washing and changing him in the morning had chatted non-stop to her colleague. At one point she said "I'd love to have some chickens. I like the idea of chickens scratching around the garden. My dad kept chickens. I'd like to keep some as well." Brian had been getting slightly stressed by this stream of talk, none of it directed at him although he thought some of it could or might have been. He chimed in suddenly with "Did your dad lock you in the chicken shed?" looking at her with a rather hostile expression on his face. I wanted to laugh aloud and thought "Spot on, Bri", but just beamed at him instead and said "Your dad used to keep a few chickens, didn't he" and Brian relaxed a bit. Pam smiled and said "But that is such bad nursing" and we agreed that the focus should have been on Brian. Okay if you are standing at a conveyor belt packing sweets or something, but not across the body of a rather helpless hospital patient.
I have rattled on for far too long. Time to go and make my milky drink and go to bed. I am visiting Brian only once tomorrow - that is my intention at the moment, anyway. I must try and start to "pull back" a little. I am pleased so far with what I have seen at the care home.
My love to all those of you who have helped me through these last few weeks.
Nan XXX