Strange Times
I've had a very busy day today and it seems to be making me thoughtful.
These are strange times for our family with several life-changing events going on at once.
The Communist is still in hospital where they are doing a whole load of tests, some of which - I'm convinced - have already been done by the other hospital, when he was in there. They don't seem to have found any explanation for his anaemia yet, and it's very hard to find out when each test will be done - - "maybe tomorrow" - - And then, when you turn up to visit, he might not be there, he's gone for some test somewhere. It's like being in a strange limbo, waiting for him to go back to the nursing home.
The Communist, of course, still refuses to accept that the nursing home is anything other than short-term. He accepts that the food is good and they look after him well, but whenever he sees me on my own - which is quite often - he sees me as his best hope of escape to his own home.
"I don't mind going to that nursing home for a while, but I'm in my eighty-fifth year and I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a home."
But he needs round-the-clock care: he can't come home: he doesn't seem to realise this and I find it upsetting and very hard to deal with. "Well, Dad, we'll have to see how you get on - - ".
At the same time, my cousin in Barrow, who has terminal cancer, is extremely ill: he is at home and they have stopped all treatment. This means, of course, that our Barrow relatives - some of our Very Favourite Relatives - can't come to Emily and Gareth's wedding, because they can't leave him, of course.
We're going to Barrow on Wednesday next week, collecting the cake from my cake-making-cousin Dorothy on Thursday and then driving down to Tenby. It's a long way. But I should be able to see my cousin who's so ill whilst we're in Barrow: and that will be strange too. It will be the last time I'll see him: if he's well enough to be visited, of course. That's incredibly difficult to get my head round, and I won't know what to say, but I want to do it anyway.
And then, in the middle of all this, Emily and Gareth are going to get married on Saturday, February 16th, and we're all very happy about it, and they seem very happy too.
So, after a day of rather intense medical roleplay, including a scenario about terminal cancer, I suppose it's not surprising that my emotions just don't know what the hell's going on our how I should be feeling.
Strange times.
These are strange times for our family with several life-changing events going on at once.
The Communist is still in hospital where they are doing a whole load of tests, some of which - I'm convinced - have already been done by the other hospital, when he was in there. They don't seem to have found any explanation for his anaemia yet, and it's very hard to find out when each test will be done - - "maybe tomorrow" - - And then, when you turn up to visit, he might not be there, he's gone for some test somewhere. It's like being in a strange limbo, waiting for him to go back to the nursing home.
The Communist, of course, still refuses to accept that the nursing home is anything other than short-term. He accepts that the food is good and they look after him well, but whenever he sees me on my own - which is quite often - he sees me as his best hope of escape to his own home.
"I don't mind going to that nursing home for a while, but I'm in my eighty-fifth year and I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a home."
But he needs round-the-clock care: he can't come home: he doesn't seem to realise this and I find it upsetting and very hard to deal with. "Well, Dad, we'll have to see how you get on - - ".
At the same time, my cousin in Barrow, who has terminal cancer, is extremely ill: he is at home and they have stopped all treatment. This means, of course, that our Barrow relatives - some of our Very Favourite Relatives - can't come to Emily and Gareth's wedding, because they can't leave him, of course.
We're going to Barrow on Wednesday next week, collecting the cake from my cake-making-cousin Dorothy on Thursday and then driving down to Tenby. It's a long way. But I should be able to see my cousin who's so ill whilst we're in Barrow: and that will be strange too. It will be the last time I'll see him: if he's well enough to be visited, of course. That's incredibly difficult to get my head round, and I won't know what to say, but I want to do it anyway.
And then, in the middle of all this, Emily and Gareth are going to get married on Saturday, February 16th, and we're all very happy about it, and they seem very happy too.
So, after a day of rather intense medical roleplay, including a scenario about terminal cancer, I suppose it's not surprising that my emotions just don't know what the hell's going on our how I should be feeling.
Strange times.
posted by Daphne at 9:37 pm
6 Comments:
definitely time to buy the narrow boat
You're entitled to feel all over the place. Take care and make sure that you look after yourself as well.
I hope the wedding is a really happy day. Make some time for yourself as well.
It's understandable that your emotions are all over the place right now, Daffers,
Having those closest to you either preparing for an imminent death or, in The Communist's case, having to deal with never being able to go home again probably makes it very hard to enthuse as much as you want to about the wedding. You may even be feeling some guilt over being happy about an event which should be such a wonderful time for you and yet is being tinged with such sadness.
You have no need for ANY guilt. Try and find joy and peace from your last moments with your cousin and knowing you, you will find the right words to leave him with happy thoughts.
As for The Commie, when the NHS finally releases him back to the home, family visits will surely help him to deal with not actually being in his OWN home. Just give him time to adjust.
Once in Tenby, think often about both of them and they WILL be there.
As long as we never forget those we care about, they will always be with us.
It sounds like an emotional time for you. Thanks for being candid about it, it's gritty and real and helps put 'other things' in context, if you know what I mean. Am sure the wedding will be great! I love weddings.
Eleanor and I visited our cousin in similar circumstances several years ago. It is very difficult; unfortunately I have no pearls of wisdom, just try to fix on some positive memories to hold on to for the future.
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