Art Course progress, and sinking with stressors all around....

I signed up to an online art course last month.
It's run by Suzi-Blu, the author of this book-

The course I'm on teaches you to draw a stylized portrait, first in pencil, then building up to mixed media on wood. Click here for more info on this course.

Here is my second attempt at a basic face, using a measuring system, e.g., an inch wide for each eye, an inch in between, then a inch down the middle to the end of the nose, and so on.

There has been teaching on shading, and cross-hatching as a way of building up shadow value.
This picture was done with just a 2H pencil so that you have to build up the shadow gradually.
This is interesting to me as previously I would have used several pencils and would have used the softer, darker ones for shadow, like 2B or 3B at least. I have never been taught shading and cross-hatching this way.

In the lesson, she took the picture at this stage and stuck it into her journal to return to at a late date. I can't do that because the journal I bought, the one recommended, is too small ;) so I have glued this to a piece of wood and have started to colour it with Prismacolor pencil and acrylics.
This evening I found out all my white acrylic is dried up though, so I have stopped there.


I'll try to steer to the art shop when I am in town with mum tomorrow, where no doubt she will be noisily horrified at the price of a tube of white paint.

**** *** **** *** **** ***

Meanwhile tonight I am very low............
Mum was panicky today about the noises she is hearing. The doc said it may be tinnitus, but she says it is very loud. We don't know if it's tinnitus associated with her hearing aids/ the mini strokes she had/ stress or whether it's a return of hallucinations to do with the vascular dementia.

I found a page on the internet about tinnitus and got her to sit with me and we read it together. Then I printed it out for her. She said she felt a bit better afterwards, having talked. But I felt drained as she had been so upset and talking about losing her mind so I had to calm her down and reassure her over and over....

Then, because it was getting a bit cold outside, mum went into the garden and pulled Scooter out of his tent and carried him indoors. I told her not to do this, but she said he was cold. The disturbance and the being carried (he hates it) caused him to have a funny turn, wobbly, twitchy and 'not quite there' again, a tiny seizure or the echo of one. Any sort of stress seems to be the trigger now. I won't even hoover unless he's out of the house.

After a stress and worry-filled evening my own mood sank. I am sipping brandy to settle my head. I tried my back-up pills but they had no effect.

Tearful now, and empty, and can't believe how uninterested I am in the art course. I hope it doesn't become another thing that ends up dropped. But this empty feeling of......nothing, and then I thought, even if I succeed, what will it do but give me a pile of pictures to clutter up another bit of this house and collect dust...... suspect a lot of this is hormones ;}

**** *** **** *** **** ***

Love, tea &cake,  
Helena

The best medicine

The Alzheimers Society website has a forum for carers, family members and suffers re. alzheimers and other forms of dementia. I go there when I can, now that I've remembered(!!) to bookmark the page.

This evening I had been low after One-Of-Those-Days.
Roll the day up and put it to bed and try again tomorrow.... then I read the following on the forum.

I thought it ok to publish here, as no names are mentioned. I wanted you to see how, although at times this caring thing can make you want to chew your own foot off, other times it makes you laugh till you wheeze :)

This is the conversation i had with mum yesterday morning....

ME...it was really foggy out on the roads this morning mum ('im a taxi driver on the school runs)
MUM...you should take some margarine for that
ME... eeerrrrmmmm margarine mum, what do i need that for ?
MUM...for your cough
ME...i don't have a cough mum and if i did i wouldn't take margarine for it anyway
MUM...you said you were really coughing in your taxi this morning and i said you should take some medicine for it, and don't be so stupid, you know margarine isnt for coughs.

Then today whilst we were driving home from shopping, the car in front of us threw up a stone and it hit my windscreen with a real sharp crack. Mum jumped out of her skin and said "What was that?" i said it was just a chipping that had come up off the car in front of us.

"Oh my god!" she said "its probably dead now after that"

"What's dead?" i said "it was only a chipping"

"Don't be so nasty" said she, "what if it was one of yours, you wouldn't say that"

A moment of silence followed while i tried to unravel this one, "Mum," i said, "it was only a chipping, you know, a small stone... "

"Oh bloody hell!!!" she shrieked "i thought you said it was a chicken that hit the window!!" we laughed so much she thought i was going to crash the car, ""stop it now!" she said, "if i laugh any more i'll pee myself and i havent got any clean slippers with me!"     .....like i said YOU'VE GOT TO LAUGH.

Brilliant!! LOL!

Not coping

Lots of stress signs: bursting into tears, sleeping heavily and intermittently with mad dreams, snapping at everybody, stomping about in a bad temper. Heart rate is high. Feel fat fat fat and miserable. Tumbling thoughts and HEARING THINGS. Want to switch off.

I just can't cope with mum any more. Little of what she says makes sense. Even when I am not with her she calls, calls, calls. She can't work the tv any more. She can't follow a diagram or written notes either, we tried that. She says she has been hallucinating for 4-5 weeks, seeing people who are not there, faint people with white outlines.

I have seen her every day since 5th March. There is no help; social services say that as she can go to the lavatory herself with no need of help, she doesn't get a carer, and I get no help. That's it. Oh, they did offer grab rails for the bath, which she already has, or meals-on-wheels at £3.50 a day for lunch, which she tried, and we cancelled after a few weeks because she called them "foul" and refused to eat them.

So that's it then.

I told my GP, in tears, that I wasn't coping. She told me, oh well, you'll have to put her into a home then.

I asked the neurologist 2 weeks ago, and she told me to ask the churches.

I am almost giving up. Except I can't, can I? Because who else is there? I think I shall end up going to the wall. I'll reach the point where I can no longer see that I can't, and I'll take every pill I can find, altogether, at once. And then the authorities and relatives who SHOULD help will HAVE to come and pick up the pieces, won't they? There doesn't seem to be any other way out of this relentless situation.

Hanging on by my fingernails for Luvbug and Scooter ;)

Thank you for all the support out there. Some of you have even given your phone numbers- I am very moved that you would do so as that very generous of you. I do have an emergency number to ring if I get to 'that' stage. I might be up ringing it in the middle of the night quite soon.

Sorry to post such misery near Christmas. Even our little tree gave up the ghost! We will try to return it to the shop tomorrow....



CARFTERING has been updated too, if you can bear it!!!

New blog address

As mentioned recently, I'm going to try to get this blog back to crafting and drawing. I'll still talk about stuff that affects my bi-polarness, but I want to shift stuff about Mum's illness to somewhere private.

Here is the new blog's address- http://carftering.blogspot.com

I'll eventually change it to invited readers only, but for now it's open to anyone, just while I get it all set up. Have a look, see what you think. I haven't done all the tabs yet; working on it.

Second post, today, follows..... :)

The trick is, to do little things, little and regularly.

-It's true.

My days lately seem full, wall to wall. No time for anything. I am either looking after mum or chasing up people whose job it is to help me look after her (and getting nowhere). But I have been leaving my craft stuff out by my chair and some evenings I manage to do a little. Leaving it to hand helps. I have craft magazines next to the bed, too. I find I can't read my history books any more, and novels are hopeless.

Luvbug has bought me a tiny sewing machine, as I have notions of making wee little fancy notebooks, perhaps as gifts for people. I have yet to make any start, as I can't thread or use the dam' thing!!! But I have bookmarked a video on You Tube that shows how :)

Isn't it dinky? Well, you know that Bob is an 8inch Bear, so judge for yourself!


Another lovely arrival in the post recently was these stamps from the now closed Elzybells. They were a quarter their original price..... oh look, that Bear's got in the photo again, with the other Xmas stamps I've dug out...

I've made a few gift tags. In the hopes that I may be able to buy pressies early this year as in others, I will need these to wrap them up, won't I?

*** *** ***

If you're wondering why I've put a countdown to my birthday at the top of my blog, it's because I've been on a diet for weeks and so I want to know how long I have wait for a bit of cake.

Not much in the way of results so far. I lost 7lb then put 3 back on. D0n't know how, as I have been very strict.

*** *** ***

Most of the time mum is ok till about 1pm, albeit with lots of phone calls to and from me. Then she will be with me till about 9pm, me staying at her place till early evening, then she comes to our place for dinner......

*** *** ***

Jobs around the house are too numerous to even bother putting on a to-do list. I manage to keep on top of the laundry and cook a meal each night but that's about it. Everywhere needs vacuuming and dusting and tidying. Easy to say, oh let it go, but I am worried about it all, as there is no way of knowing when mum will have to move in with us. When will her next attack come? When will she have to move in?

Meanwhile the house is falling apart around my ears, looking more and more like a student squat and adding to my depression. But I just don't have the time or the energy......

This week I have taken more hours out of the time I spend on the home, as I have finally begun driving lessons. I had my first on Monday morning. My second is this Friday. The instructor said I'm doing OK.

*** *** ***

Lately I have been in tears and literally on the floor as I have been so stressed out and tired by the relentless ongoing-ness of this carer role I suddenly have. Typing it here makes me feel stupid. Some people do it all and have kids to take care of, too, so what am I moaning about?

I am thinking about doing an 'invited readers only' blog for the caring part of my life, to keep it a little private, and also to free up this blog for the lighter side of things!!!! You'd be welcome to ask for the way in, just email me. I'll let you know when it's up and running.....

Still here.

I've been avoiding blogging because I've been feeling so low and don't like doing negative posts. Then I thought, hmmm, better say SOMETHING or people might worry I'd fallen off the side of the earth of something. No, still here. Hanging on. Just. But mostly because of a sense that I have to.

After rallying for a while, my mum seems to be slipping a wee bit.

Today we were having cups of tea in a cafe. She saw a man using his mobile phone and she started acting very strangely. When I asked what was wrong, she became very secretive, looking all around, then whispering to me that this man was using his phone. Then she tutted loudly and shook her head. She told me she hoped the police weren't around- that's who she had been looking for- because it isn't allowed. "WHAT isn't allowed? Using his phone?"- I couldn't believe it.
"Well, they say it isn't allowed."
"Who says?"
"They say."
"Um, no, it's OK. It's only not allowed if you're driving."
"Hmm." she wasn't convinced and kept looking at him.
I repeated myself, "It's only illegal if you're driving, mum."
There was no smile, or "Oh! Of Course!", no realisation came, which it usually does, when she gets something wrong. I don't think she was at all convinced. Yet I have a mobile phone, which she rings, and she has one too, although she can't use it any more, she still gets it out sometimes and looks at it, and tells us we'll have to teach her how to use it (which we do, countless times). So why this sudden suspicion of mobile phones?

We dropped her off this evening and she keeps ringing about strange worries. I don't want to tempt fate, but I have a feeling that there might be something big and nasty up ahead.

Still no word on those medications that could help slow things down, and no appointment in sight. I have written to the neurologist myself today, to try to speed things up.

***

Things are slowly moving towards autumn all around us. The nights are drawing in. My personal worry is simply this; that if I am feeling low and tearful already, how will it be when the days are all dark and cold?

Trying to do things one day at a time here. One day at a time. Not much gets done, though, not when you have to be with someone else most of the day. The house is a wreck, which really doesn't help my head at all, but I just don't have the time and energy to keep on top of it all. I need a helper and despite all the feelers I put out months ago, there just aren't any.

2 more cards..... and nose diving.

Thanks for your comments, especially re. that birthday card. Here's the other one, the one for mum's neightbour, Sylvie. She was 91 on Saturday.

inside....

Here's one I made for my nephew, Alex. He'll be 10 on the 22nd but I'm safe posting it here as my family don't bother with my blogging!!

Meanwhile the strain is starting to show, I think. I had thought I was holding it together soooo well. Too well, maybe.

Mum has burst into tears twice in the last week, clinging on to me and crying. I find it amazingly difficult. It leaves me stunned, shocked. Mum never showed emotion. NEVER. And I don't mean just that she never hugged us or said she loved us, or congratulated us when we did things well. None of that happened. But I also mean she showed no emotion to movies, stories on the news, even the deaths of pets or the burial of my murdered cousin. NOTHING. ZERO. ZILTCH. And so now she is tiny, half the frame she was a few years ago, and she is clinging to my arm, which she has touched more in the last few months than in the rest of my entire life all rolled together, and she is WEEPING. Of COURSE I am being gentle. Of course I am looking after her. Of course I am being the kindest I can be. I just didn't realise what it was taking out of me.

On Tuesday I didn't make it to Art Therapy- 2 weeks in a row now, because I just didn't feel I could leave her. By the evening I think my body had started to rebel! A stye the size of a pea came up on my eye literally within a few minutes. I put my fingertip to my eyelid, expecting to feel a loose eyelash or something, and I felt the lump. By the time I'd got a mirror it had grown. We dashed to the pharmacy and got some anti-infection eye drops. By the time we got back I was feeling sick and dizzy, seeing stars.

We drove mum home early, about 8ish. I went straight to bed. Apart from Fluffy's loud mewling through the night and morning, I slept on and off till after midday Wednesday. Even after I was up I felt wobbly and the room was spinning.

I convinced mum to let me have a sleepy, lazy day on my own. We still rang each other a few times. Then Luvbug picked her up after work, about 5.30. I was still so tired. My eye is better though.

Today, I am tearful and shaky and I can't keep my mind on anything. I feel so low.

I had decided to join a new fitness class starting tonight at the school at the end of my road. But I didn't get home in time. And it just felt like, oh, why bother. There was I feeling positive, thinking I could meet new friends maybe, or get fit, lose a few pounds and -God forbid- have 90 minutes to myself a week.... but it just isn't to be, is it?

Luvbug lost his rag this morning over his computer. Man, you should have heard the swearing and cursing. It got me downstairs, and more to the point, it turned my stomach over and over. After the rows I grew up with at home, I just can't bear anyone shouting and getting angry. But bang bang, stomp stomp stomp, swearing and shouting at 40-odd decibels. Poor Scooter got a rude awakening and I found him creeping away from the living room.

Well that just left me shattered for the day, dazed and tumbled.

"Oh it was just the machine was playing up and I was late and blah blah blah...." and "You know I would never aim it at you..." so what???? So stir up a foul atmosphere, then smile and go to work and forget about it. SOME OF US CAN'T.

Sorry. Just want to quit, today.

Daydreams of escape

After several good days, today was a bad day. Yeah, I know, I should document more of the good ones, shouldn't I? I know, I know, I plan to. I'll try to. I promise.

This evening I nipped out to the corner shop. Well, more of a round the corner and up- shop. A ten minute walk if you stroll. A three minute walk if you run.

Standing in the queue, I knew I didn't want to go back home.
I wanted to go for a good, long walk in the darkening, breezy evening.
I thought back to last summer when Luvbug and I had got on our bikes one evening and just pedalled and pedalled, out along countryroads and round secret lanes behind the housing estates, across farm land and over fields. I remembered the cooling air, the sweat, the freedom. I wanted some of that again.

I looked down at mum's yoghurt, my not-quite-butter spread, and the two trays of cat stinky goodness, the stuff they only get when the online pet shop are late delivering the proper stuff again. I knew I couldn't stray. I had to go back, and straight back. Mum will already be looking out of the window and asking Luvbug where I am, will I be ok, and couldn't he come and pick me up.

Before I knew it, I was head of the queue, counting out the right change. (If you do little things like that, they never realise that you're on auto-pilot, or near to breaking point, I mean, who would care about the right change if they're all up-side-down inside?)

No progress, but at least my head has stopped spinning...

I'm now a little clearer about things.....

With thanks to your emails, messages of support, & a trawl through the NHS website. Here's the situation:

There are drugs that can help Altzeimer's, but not Vascular Dementia. Mum does not have Altzeimer's. Least, no one has mentioned it. Some doctors do prescribe the drugs for Vasc. Dem. but if they do, it's against NICE guidelines. This is why, if we went private with a clinical psychologist, we wouldn't get NHS help with the cost of any drugs that were prescribed.

BUT, it is very unusual for mum to get Vasc. Dem. at 68. This is usually far too young to get it with no other underlying conditions. It is possible to have Vasc. Dem and Altzeimer's together. So maybe this is a possibility?

As to the efficacy of the drugs I have received conflicting reports, at the one end of the scale saying that they work only for 6 - 8 months (which is also what the neurologist said, actually) to other reports from people who have relatives who've been on them for years, in one case, 8 years.

For our next step, I think I need to write to the neurologist for clarification of the diagnosis, and to stress that if she thinks the drugs could be of use then we really need to get them as soon as possible. Maybe her caseload is so great she cannot keep tabs on what's happening on individual cases, and maybe she doesn't realise that there is a 10 month waiting list for this next step that she's sent mum on? I'll cc. the GP too, and if I don't hear back in 15 days, I'll write to our MP.

Phew.

OK not an interesting or uplifting blog post. Sorry. But thanks all, for helping me sort my head out. If I can just get some of it down as a to-do-list, it helps me cope. It stops me feeling so absolutely helpless.

Mum had a low day today. It's harder when she is down. I just want to make her smile.....

Unbelievable!

Last month they added mum to a waiting list for a clinical psycologist, but wouldn't give an estimate for how long the list was. Well we've managed to find out- 10 months.

10 MONTHS!!!!!

The clinical psycologist's dept. hasn't been in touch in all, oh no(!); we found out via the legal dept. at the hosptial. My brother is a solicitor, and knows someone there. Otherwise we'd still be waiting.

We've already enquired whether they would see someone privately -they won't- ok so at least we know people aren't pushing in- but so now we're not sure WHAT to do. Grab a Yellow Pages and look one up??????

Mum needs to get those pills PDQ, but can't without a clinical psycologist's say so. The neurologist wouldn't give them. In fact, we are meant to see the p.doc, THEN go BACK to the neurologist to get them, which will be after another 6 week wait on top, as appointments always are. At this rate it could be NEXT JULY before mum even STARTS on these drugs- and everything we've heard of them says that they do nothing for memory and cognition that's already lost, but they can stop more being lost. What the hell will be left by then???

I am trying to run fast and the whole system is ground to a halt! What do I do????????

I am going to write to the neurologist... or should I? Chase the GP? What would she be able to do? Oh I have been with mum all day, trying to keep smiling and up up up, but all the time I've been spitting feathers on the inside.......

....those of you who've been telling me of their own experiences, any ideas????

Ghost stories and shadows

I am nervous about typing this in case it tempts fate, but mum has had a few good days.

Even on good days, there will be moments when I am reminded that all is not well. Just as I am relaxed around her, something will happen or be said that makes me sit up.

Today, she talked about my aunt, who had had a flat next to hers in the 1960's. It was part of an old terrace townhouse, Victorian, or earlier. They both tell a tale of how it was haunted, how they would hear footsteps in the empty flat above, and how, after they had scattered flour over the floor up there, they went back and found two sets of footprints leading out of a cupboard and into the opposite wall. Side by side, an adult's and a child's.

"Oh yes, " I said, joining in the telling, "and now it's a hotel, isn't it? I know it. Near Star Hill. In Rochester. That's right." She has told me this bit herself many times, but today she remarks,
"Is it? A hotel? Well I never!"
We sipped our tea, sitting outside a little cafe, people watching.
Then she asked -and this was the moment-
"But.... if it's a hotel now, where does Pat live?"
Neither of them have lived there since the early 1960s, but in that moment, mum lost 50 years.

I've been given a name for it now, this thing. It's vascular dementia. I've found an online forum full of people going through it either themselves, or caring for someone who is. I haven't browsed it very much, it's too upsetting for now as everyone seems to be in advanced stages. It's like looking into our future and it's so scary. She will go downhill in large steps, in sudden deteriorations. I lie awake worrying and crying about when? and how much deterioration comes next? and how long do we have? how long before she's just a ghost of my mum?

I posted a question about whether I should tell her what it is. The "D" word.
As I had suspected, they advised not to, not if it would cause more upset.
So for mum it is "memory problems", a side effect of the TIA and the resulting epilepsy.
After all, the time I saw her crying over this was the time she asked me, "I'm not losing my mind, am I? I'm not, am I?"

No mum, don't worry. You'll be fine. You'll be fine. I'm determined that she'll think she's fine.

Familiar but strange...

The depression is strange. It seems to know that I just don't have room for it right now. It sits curled up, deep down, and only reaches to the outside rarely, mostly in bursts of tears that last hours, before all returns to normal. I'm grateful, as it means mum doesn't get to see me at my worst, or anything like it.

She isn't daft. She can tell when I'm tired or when something is irritating me, when I feel annoyed about something. But I haven't been depressed around her. I'm glad it keeps to its own compartment for now.

Looking at previous patterns, I know that there is only a matter of time before the lid of the compartment blows and the beast escapes.

What I don't know is how long I have left before that happens. So I have to contact outside help this week.

I've been advised to start with Age UK*, as apparently they can advise on help with care, meals-on-wheels, etc. I also need to get a back up plan in place in case I just can't organise things like her medication and going out. A regular break would help so much. One day, or one afternoon, even, a week, or fortnightly; time on my own or with Luvbug, but time when I can relax and not think that she is worrying where I am or getting confused and scared, which is what happens if I keep my appointment with Art Therapy every Tuesday. I've had to skip it twice recently, as I just couldn't get away.

As ever, thank you all so much for your supportive comments and emails. I'm sorry I don't reply to them individually.



*age UK is the name of the newly combined charities Age Concern and Help The Aged.

Floor level.

Broke down today.
Lots of tears. You know, the can't-go-on type.
Had an appointment with the Art Therapist.
I'd had to cancel last week's and the week before's because I just couldn't get away, couldn't leave mum on her own.
Today was easier; she wasn't too bad today.

At the session, it all bubbled to the surface, and how, yesterday, for the first time, I felt I couldn't go on.

But if I killed myself, I thought, what would mum do then? Or the cats....

Luvbug, I figured, in the twisted, mirror-think of suicidal thought, he would be ok, he's strong, he could sell up and head to Ireland and his family........ and then yesterday on the news there was a story about a young family found dead in their home. Suicide was mentioned, but not official yet. How could he have taken his wife and children with him, people asked. And I knew how. I knew how, I knew why.

Then I knew I had hit the floor and needed help.

The Sentence

So we finally had the appointment with the neurologist, yesterday.

I had expected to hear about epilepsy, about irrecoverable memory, about finding the right drug regimen to even things out. I had thought we would eventually get us to a place where mum relearns what she can and can't do, and then we would go on from there.

Was I blind? Stupid? Optimistic?

We met Dr B. after a 40 minute wait in a noisy waiting area. I had been reading a year-old gardening magazine. Mum had been wandering up and down straightening the other magazines.

Dr B. showed us the MRI of mum's brain.
"The grey areas are the brain matter..." said Dr B.
Mum laughed at this. "The grey areas are my grey matter!" she said.
"...And these black areas are where there is atrophy." -Dr B.
Mum still chuckling. "Grey matter! Ha!"
Me now. "Atrophy?" I know what that is. Do I? Perhaps I'm mistaken. "Is that...damage?"
"Yes."
Shit.
Mum hasn't heard. She is hard of hearing, has only one hearing aid though she needs two, and this doctor is particularly softly spoken.
The softly spoken doctor keeps pressing a key on her keyboard.
With each click, four new images, cross sections of mum's brain, fill the screen. Each has more and more black encroaching into the grey. Just black lines, mostly, then some with bulges in them, bending, stretching through different areas and spreading out. Wriggles, they look like. Worms. Claws.

"Given the amount of damage, I would think your mother has probably been having small mini-strokes for years. This is now small vessel damage."

"Small vessel damage. Small? Small damage to the vessels?" I am grasping. I know what she means already. I just don't want to know it.
"No, no." she smiles at me. "It is damage to the small blood vessels."

I half glaze over as she explains that these tightened, thinned, blood vessels no longer deliver enough oxygen to my mother's brain, and so there will continue to be tiny, imperceptible mini-strokes, leaving more damage. The epilepsy is not the problem. The epilepsy is the side effect.

There is no way back. Memory and cognitive skills will worsen. At first gradually but expect, she says, to see deterioration occur in sudden, deep steps. She draws these deep steps in the air with her forefinger. Down, down, down. Like a child skipping stairs.

I bite back some badly timed salt water and reassure mum, who has just started to ask what is being said, that the tablets are still OK and that she must just continue taking them.

"Oh! I see!" Mum smiles and nods.

Dr B. asks mum her address. Mum remembers her door number.
"Ah! Hang on!" she has a glint in her eye as she pulls out a phone bill from her bag. I'm not surprised she remembered that, as she took it out and looked at it four times in the waiting room. "Here you are! I'm going to cheat!" She smiles, and reads out her address from the bill.

A few more memory tests.
The day? No.
Date? No.
She turns to me for a clue. "Ah, well, it was Kevin's birthday yesterday wasn't it?"
"OH YES! Chocolate cake!"
"So," presses Dr B., "What does that make today?"
"The day after Kevin's birthday," says mum.

Mum carried on chattering away, as Dr B. advises me not to let her go out on her own, and with that one comment, the title of "Carer" becomes capitalised and affixed to me, as clear as if I had been passed a badge with my name on it.

I had already known this, accepted it. But hearing it all out loud is different. In my mind a long road opens up in front of me. Structured, timetabled and full of sadness.

"I'll refer her to a psychologist to assess the memory damage," Dr B. interrupts my grief. "then she will come back here. There are pills to improve thinking and memory, she can have these."
What??? So...... there is hope then????? But then she adds:
"I'm afraid they only work for about 6 - 8 months. It's only temporary."

I am 43, and till yesterday had never had the experience of having to leave a doctor's room hearing the parting words, "I'm so sorry..."

*** *** ***

Last night, I wept in great sobs in a scarcely lit room. Great, big belly sobs, each coming with no sound till the last bit of breath. So angry: it's so unfair. She is only 68. I want our lives back. I want my mum back. I want my life back. Then another groan, for my own selfishness. I want I want I want. When I was a Christian I prayed every night for her. I specifically prayed for a long, healthy and happy life. I remembered that request for health. I remembered being careful to include that..... so all that was left was to spit swearwords towards the ceiling deity I no longer believe in, "If you want to punish someone for me dumping you, why not me? why her? you sick bastard. You sick, sick f--k. You think you will make things so bad that I come back, in need of a crutch. Not this time."

*** *** ***

Today, I was left guessing how much of it she understood. One little sentence of hers, just a few words, I don't think she knew she had said them out loud. "I thought I would have more time." No violent anger in her tiny, newly-frail frame. Gentleness and tremendous sorrow, but no anger.

Trying to catch up a bit....

OK second attempt to update!

A few minutes ago I wrote, "I have just enough time to vacuum, or to update my blog. So the cat hair can wait." -and then the power went off and my computer screen disappeared into a black dot!!!! HURUMPPFF!!! Well the housework goblins can sod off and wait cos I'm back. HA.

Isn't this a lovely pic of Scooter?Pity about the collar. They don't normally have any, but as it's a new area I thought it best that they wear them whenever they're out in the garden- just in case.

Scooter has settled in really well, though I have to bring him indoors whenever I go out because we don't have a catflap. I don't want to shut him out. I think he might panic once he realised the door was shut. Course, he doesn't think like that, and just grumps cos he doesn't want in when the sun is out.

Fluffy is harder. She stills meows all night. From about 2 onwards. Last night and the night before, I shut them downstairs. They had food, water and a litter tray, a light on and their bedding. And the sofas, too, of course, which are also "theirs" apparently. It worked, in that I managed to get some decent sleep. But today Fluffy is really upset and moody. I can't get a purr out of her and she looks thoroughly reprimanded. Poor Fluff. I've tried cuddles but she's having none of it. What am I to do?

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Mum was in hospital for 8 days. Then, a little after she came out, she had a kidney infection. They put her on 4 anti-biotics a day for a week, ones that gave her stomach ache and made her feel sick. She stayed with us till about a week ago. She is gradually finding her feet again. I am nervous, as the seizures seem to come every 6 weeks or so, and I am looking at the calendar and holding my breath.....

She has good days and bad days. On the worst, she is confused and panics at the slightest thing, her memory is terrible and she can ask or say the same thing over and over, sometimes without waiting for a reply. If she is going to be this bad, it's usually in the evening or late afternoon. She definitely goes downhill with the day.

The worst part is that she is aware that her memory is poor, and that she isn't up to things that she could do before. She's frightened.

It's still hard to get her to eat. She says nothing tastes the same. I wonder if that's the epilepsy, or the epilepsy drugs...... they had to take her off that new one. She was only on it for a week and it made her feel awful....

I see her every day and she rings a lot. We can make plans for tomorrow, then when tomorrow comes she'll call and ask if we have any plans :)

I have to be at her place for 1pm today, so I am typing with one eye on the clock. I shall have to go and get the cats indoors before I leave. They'll grump. Then a walk to mum's- my 159lbs of lard means I shall walk not take the bus. MORE weight!!!!! It's a side effect of the anti-psychotics. And the red wine that I never used to drink.... oops.

I've made a few cards in the evenings.......

Sorry I don't have time to improve this photo.... this one became my Father's Day card. But I never heard back from him. Haven't heard a thing since March. I think it's because of the time I'm spending on mum. When we last spoke, and I was explaining what's going on, he just said, "Well I'm not well either." and hinted that I should have been looking after him all these years. Hey ho!

One for a friend, to thank her for a 3 hour phone call in the middle of the night!!!


An anniversary card, for Luvbug's sister and husband.

Best be off.

Just as I wrote that, the phone rang.
Mum.
What time was it I was coming up today?

Not sure she even remembers the last 3 calls this morning....

In case you thought I'd dropped off the earth....

This is the first time this year I've sat out in the garden alone. It's gorgeous; sunny and warm. I've brought out the table and chairs.

I'm not completely on my own though, as it's Scooter's 5th or 6th time out. Yep, after a month indoors I have finally allowed him his freedom. As far as the fence, that is. And he has a collar, for the first time in many years, "just in case" his curiosity gets the better of him. My reward for such generosity? A bright, perfectly formed wee mousie, delivered to my doorstep with a chortle. Well, um, gosh, thanks, Scoob. I love you too!

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Now I must insert belated thanks to my two friends Stardust and Bumblevee, who sent me lovely packages from far away, simply to say they were thinking of me. The contents were humbling in their generosity. I should have mentioned them before...... so sorry.....

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It's hard to get online. I have some lovely photo's to share. The wisteria is out and as beautiful as it promised to be, and I have also discovered a Japanese peony. Its flower is the size of my hand :)

But my days are still- up a lot at night trying to calm Fluffy's meowing- dozing in the morning to catch up with sleep- seeing mum in the afternoon, shopping, talking, trying to reassure etc.- cooking in the evening- taking mum home- then bed or an hour or so with the radio or tv, exhausted. When to blog? Or email, for that matter. Or anything else.

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I am feeding the hedgehogs still; 4 in our garden the other night. And I saw a fox across the road. And a squirrel on our fence, twice. And today, baby starlings are having their first tour of the world outside the nest with their parents. So life goes on all around. Nature is a great soother of nerves. Oh and the emergency blue pills (!). Took one last night. They do help.
Yesterday was bad. It is building up, you see. I should remember the effect that stress and tiredness have on the bi-polar doobry-watnot.... yesterday I kept crying, I felt such a dead-weight inside me. Mum says she's lonely. But I see her every day. If only my siblings would call, send her a postcard or something.

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Fluffy has joined us in the garden. Which means Scooter is going to try to show her that it's all his. Must go, before fur flies......

What day is it, again?

- it's something my mum asks quite a bit but I'm starting to lose track, myself, lately. NOW, when she asks me, I have to think back to a day when I DID know what day it was, and then count forward, hoping that by the time I've got there she hasn't yet moved on to the next question. If so, never mind; tuck it in somewhere easily retrievable for when when she next asks...

Mum has been spending nights alone at the bungalow for almost a week now. (Please, quick! Touch something wooden!)

I have been pleased and stunned, really impressed at how forward she has been in speaking to her new neighbours, and joining in with things like coffee mornings down there. But still early days, and for that reason, she spends most of her time with me. We go shopping. I draw maps to show her the layout of the main streets here. We go to tea shops for lunch, and hunt all over for shoes to fit my madly shaped feet or trousers to fit her 4ft 8inch frame (no luck, on either account.)

Meanwhile Fluffy has so far cost Luvbug £240 in vet bills due to a bladder infection which the vet thinks is down to stress. And no wonder. Scooter is frustrated at not being able to go outside and spends his spare energy running to and fro all over the house, chortling, and if Fluffy happens to "be in the way" in mid run, well too bad, he thinks. Just makes the inevitable crash more interesting.

I am back in my own bed at last but never for long; Fluffy being deaf, has no idea how loud her night-time calling is. She starts around 2am, calling upstairs. This one is just for a cuddle, but she won't settle on the bed, I have to come down to her. Fooled into thinking she is settled: by the purring, toes in the air, all smiles, I sneak back up to bed.
The second call will be about 3.15. This is a hungry one, where she can't remember where her dish is. I come downstairs and point it out to her. Stay for a cuddle. All settled. Off to bed I sneak, again
5am. This is the killer one. SOOOOO loud. This is the "Where am I? Where's mum? Am I still alive? What's happening?" one. I come downstairs, pick her up, cuddle her and snuggle down on the sofa together till she gets fed up and goes back to bed ok again. I remain on the sofa till Scooter dives on my head for breakfast.

Except today.
I took one of my emergency-crisis-only Lorazepam last night. I can take one to help me sleep. Ha. I took two in the end. It is 4pm now and I am still sleepily relaxed. The mogs are fed, the carpet hoovered, sort of, the washing is on the line (in the rain) and mum is getting a lift from Luvbug up to our place later. If I had sounded alive when she called this morning I think she'd be here now, or I'd have gone to her.... but no, couldn't keep the sleepiness out of my voice. This was My Head Is Collapsing Inwards Day. I've had banana sandwiches and tea. I wore pyjamas till an hour ago. I only woke up at all earlier when Scooter clawed my eye open in a desperate "Anyone in there?"

So. Luvbug and mum here by 5.15 ish. I guess they will want feeding. Or something. I've no idea what. I am so tired. Can I go home now? Oh no, wait, I AM home.