Well, it is just as I suspected, the AP has been pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes and she is being discharged next week from the hospital and will be returning to us. I had my suspicions when we visited a couple of days ago when I realised she was loving all the attention. She kept saying what a dreadful night she had had and how excruciating the pain was but looking at her belied the true situation and a creeping doubt entered my mind that the whole situation had been manufactured by her. Maybe not completely contrived but I think once she realised she had everyone’s undivided attention she began to milk it for all it was worth. We spoke to the consultant yesterday to learn that even at one hundred and one years old there is not much wrong with her apart from arthritis that was now in her knees and some mental degradation. He also said that she was being very economical with the truth and although he understood our situation she did not come under any umbrella that would remove her from our care.
To give the hospital their due they are having her assessed and looking at the possibility of some kind of care package but I don’t think she will be eligible for one which will mean us going down the private care route.
The consultant told us he had suggested to her that a spell in respite care would be good for her as well as give the LSO and myself a break and she refused to even consider the matter saying that she had had extensive discussions with us on the matter. Really! Obviously the LSO and myself weren’t present at these ‘discussions’. So the hysteria, histrionics and dramatic expressions such as ‘this really is the end’ and ‘I know what is coming and I’m ready’ are all just part of the drama queen that is my mother and everything was manufactured just to be the centre of attention. It is devastating to think that my own mother would be so devious, so inconsiderate and so selfish but it has backfired on her. When we visited yesterday I told her the consultant had rung me and then I asked her why she had refused to consider respite care. She completely denied that it was ever even mentioned but her response was too quick and I knew she was lying.
So we had a frank and open chat with her about the fact that the LSO and myself need to have some life before it is too late and after much prevarication, more lies and more excuses with a bit of blackmail and smoke screens thrown in she has reluctantly agreed to let us sort out something that will give us some space and ensure she is looked after. It may not be spontaneous but it will at least allow us to escape occasionally.
I wake up most mornings now and wonder just who the AP will be today. Will she be a waspish old harridan, will she be feeling off colour, will she be complaining about the cold, the heat, the damp, the greyness or will she be a little ray of sunshine and full of bonhomie. Don’t be silly that behaviour is saved for others, certainly not the LSO and myself; we are the servants, the below stairs staff, the chief cooks and bottle washers, the bed changers and cleaners. We are frequently referred to as ‘he’ or ‘she’ rather than by name. One example of this was when I had washed a very expensive shirt that the AP had managed to drop tartar sauce on during a lunch out with us. The shirt had been a present to her from the LSO and myself and I didn’t want it to be wrecked. When the LSO returned it to her all he got was ‘oh good, SHE has washed it’ no name and no thank you.
Yesterday the AP was taken out for a few hours by a carer we have employed, who will also be helping her with the weekly shower as from next week. Her first words to her on arrival were that she has had a couple of bad days. My first reaction was one of surprise and I explained to our visitor what the problem has been. Lately the AP has complained that her left leg feels cold with sometimes a pain in the calf which appears to possibly be a pulled muscle but is most likely, simply the result of lack of activity and a slowing circulation. Inevitable at one hundred and one years old. Sadly we do make a meal of the least little thing trying to be the centre of attention and apparently wanting to be ill. The AP has no idea what a bad day really is, in health terms she has led a charmed life with very few illnesses and nothing hugely serious.
These small irritations do build up especially when the carer brings the AP back and we are told how marvellous and gracious she is and what a conversationalist. Really! Yes, I know it is to be expected, how could they possibly know the true situation but sometimes I just wish I could put these people in our shoes for a month or two for them to discover just how two-faced and hypocritical she can be. They see her for a few hours, we have her the rest of the time and she makes little effort with us. We are relieved when there is snooker or tennis on as she can only see the television screen in her room and we don’t have her sitting downstairs staring into space. We have heard the same stories over and over again which I suppose to anyone not seeing much of her must sound convincing. But the truth is most are now elaborated on or mixed up and often untrue, just made up to fill a gap in the memory.
During her time out she pretends to be in control and even eats things that she would never touch with us. Yesterday it was a brie and cranberry panini with salad, a panini, a crust with a little bread! Salad is usually looked at with horror and pushed around the plate. She won’t eat anything with us that she considers too chewy, crusts have to be cut off bread, vegetables mashed, she often won’t use her cutlery, picking her food up with her fingers and holds her head in one hand as if it is all too difficult to cope with especially if she has to chew a little. She also hides food in her napkin and rushes to the bin with it after the meal. I am sure she doesn’t do any of this when out with the carer and her husband and thus they have a completely false image of who the AP really is and although they will never know what she is really like it is very galling for us. We just get the rubbish.