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Mum's yellower than yesterday and swollen with retained fluid, but on the other hand, she seems stronger. Holding her hand a few days ago felt like holding a bundle of dry-rotted ancient twigs - like she might crumble if I squeezed - but today she felt like warm flesh and blood again. But she was so tired.
Finding out the specifics of what's actually going on with her is like playing Chinese Whispers with a team of Vorlons and Tamarians.. The doctor tells her things she doesn't understand, she forgets half of it and mishears the rest, tells me some of what she remembers mixed with some of her own theories, and tells my sister T something different. From what T and I can piece together, she may or may not have a chest infection, a urinary tract infection and an enlarged liver. Naturally, the doctors themselves won't tell anyone anything over the phone, next of kin or not, and are never available during normal visiting hours.
Spike's new harness still hasn't arrived, and I cannot, cannot, cannot walk him to Grimmauld Place (I have to go there daily to feed Maisie) again on the flat collar. Although I had his leash wound under his body to avoid pressure on his throat he was still wheezing by the time we got home, and the fox and three cats that crossed our path didn't help any. I'm going to accost Weed-Smoking Neighbour when he gets home from work and beg him to drive me over there tonight. I'm sure he'll agree if I a. offer to pay him and b. break down in tears. That way I'll only need to be gone for about twenty minutes. It won't be for much longer, anyway. Sister E should be able to come and take Maisie away by the weekend at the very latest, and the harness ought to turn up before then anyway - I ordered the damn thing eight days ago.
Maisie is very depressed, but she's eating and responding to being petted. Sister T went to visit her today and Maisie let herself be petted, which is a first, since she doesn't know T very well. T was so stricken at Maisie's unhappiness she phoned to ask me if she should take her home, but moving to two new places in the space of a week is only going to stress her more than she is already. It's bloody hard to walk out of the door and leave her, though.
And, for the icing on the cake, I'm coming down with a cold. Woke up this morning with a scratchy throat and a raw heaviness in the sinuses. I'm not sure if I even ought to be going near Mum with a cold, but there's no other family that can visit her at all (although there are plenty of her friends). I asked T for her opinion and she tried to convince me it was hay fever. Considering I've never had hay fever or any allergies before (I'm the only non-allergic non-asthmatic in a family of multi-allergy sufferers) I feel that's wishful thinking on her part. I don't know what to do.
I know I have at least two nurses on my f-list - if you read this, do you think I should avoid the hospital till the cold passes or not? I don't want to not see my mother, but I don't want to be a disease vector around already-sick people either.
The good news: It's cooler today.
Finding out the specifics of what's actually going on with her is like playing Chinese Whispers with a team of Vorlons and Tamarians.. The doctor tells her things she doesn't understand, she forgets half of it and mishears the rest, tells me some of what she remembers mixed with some of her own theories, and tells my sister T something different. From what T and I can piece together, she may or may not have a chest infection, a urinary tract infection and an enlarged liver. Naturally, the doctors themselves won't tell anyone anything over the phone, next of kin or not, and are never available during normal visiting hours.
Spike's new harness still hasn't arrived, and I cannot, cannot, cannot walk him to Grimmauld Place (I have to go there daily to feed Maisie) again on the flat collar. Although I had his leash wound under his body to avoid pressure on his throat he was still wheezing by the time we got home, and the fox and three cats that crossed our path didn't help any. I'm going to accost Weed-Smoking Neighbour when he gets home from work and beg him to drive me over there tonight. I'm sure he'll agree if I a. offer to pay him and b. break down in tears. That way I'll only need to be gone for about twenty minutes. It won't be for much longer, anyway. Sister E should be able to come and take Maisie away by the weekend at the very latest, and the harness ought to turn up before then anyway - I ordered the damn thing eight days ago.
Maisie is very depressed, but she's eating and responding to being petted. Sister T went to visit her today and Maisie let herself be petted, which is a first, since she doesn't know T very well. T was so stricken at Maisie's unhappiness she phoned to ask me if she should take her home, but moving to two new places in the space of a week is only going to stress her more than she is already. It's bloody hard to walk out of the door and leave her, though.
And, for the icing on the cake, I'm coming down with a cold. Woke up this morning with a scratchy throat and a raw heaviness in the sinuses. I'm not sure if I even ought to be going near Mum with a cold, but there's no other family that can visit her at all (although there are plenty of her friends). I asked T for her opinion and she tried to convince me it was hay fever. Considering I've never had hay fever or any allergies before (I'm the only non-allergic non-asthmatic in a family of multi-allergy sufferers) I feel that's wishful thinking on her part. I don't know what to do.
I know I have at least two nurses on my f-list - if you read this, do you think I should avoid the hospital till the cold passes or not? I don't want to not see my mother, but I don't want to be a disease vector around already-sick people either.
The good news: It's cooler today.
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