Mum's home.

Mum was sent home from hospital on Thursday 24th June. I spoke to her the next day - she sounded frail and unwell. She was on her own for most of the day. My Dad goes to a day centre on Fridays and my nephew, who stayed for the first night that Mum was home, had left before lunch. I had to get to work, so I had to cut the conversation and leave Mum to get on with things for herself. I felt the usual guilt at not being able to go over and give her a hand to get her lunch and give her some company; she was feeling lonely and vunerable. I could tell that a mile off.

The final countdown.

The latest deadline from the bank is 9th July 2010. Could I be homeless in just a few days? What will happen? I don't know.

I do know that the bank wants us to have a mortgage in place by 9th July. Then they will let us split the plot of land that the 2 houses are built on (our house and the awful orphan's house); and the bank get their money back.

Well it's not so simple. We don't have a mortgage offer. I don't know if the awful orphan has a mortgage offer. So the plot won't be split. So the houses could be reposessed. Oh happy days!

The day after Michael Jackson died.

The day after Michael Jackson died my sister died; 26th June 2009. That day my Mum went into hospital. I was told about my Mum by one of her carers. My brother was due to go on holiday with his girlfriend and his kids. I text him and told him Mum was in hospital. He said - what shall I do? I told him to go on holiday with his family. He was packed, his kids were excited about the holiday and it had been booked a while ago.

I called nisha about lunch time. By then I'd been with my Mum for about 3 hours in the hospital A&E . I asked nisha for some help with Mum and Dad. She told me she couldn't get to the hospital that day and that I would have to manage. I started to swear at her; she put the phone down on me. I was gutted. I wasn't expecting that. I didn't call her for a fight or for an argument. I sank quickly into depression. I told my Mum I was going home and would be back later.

I went home. I was deflated, depressed and had a thumping headache. I looked like death warmed up. I told my husband and my eldest daughter. They were obviously upset for me. My daughter went upstairs. After a short while she came back down; she said she had phoned nisha, she had given nisha a piece or her mind. My daughter told my husband and me what she had said. I felt a lot better because if I had been given the chance I would have liked to have done the job myself.

So I felt good - I felt as if, at least now nisha had a small idea of how much she had upset me. I get sick of my family walking all over me and getting away with it too. I don't put them right; I don't tell them they are out of order; I don't get a chance to say - you can't treat me like a piece of dog's dirt - because as soon as I start to say hang on a minute, they cut me off and they cut me out of their lives completely. That leaves me in limbo and it leaves me frustrated and festering.

I was so glad that I had come home to talk to my husband and my girl. I felt I could carry on with what I had to do. Go back to Mum in the hospital; go to Dad to give him dinner; go home for the night. Then carry on doing more of the same for about a week.

That was when I decided that nisha had died that day; the day after Michael Jackson had died. I decided to cut her out of my life forever. There was no reason for her to be any part of my life anymore. All she had done over the past 4 years was hurt me, use me and abuse me. It was time to say goodbye nisha, I don't need you any more.

It was the 1st anniversary of Michael Jackson's death on 25th June'10 and it was the 1st anniversary of nisha's death the day after.

Mum.

I wanted to go to see Mum in hospital and Dad at home. I haven't been able to as I only have the energy to get to work for 5 hours and then go home. I feel bad about it and feel guilty over it but there's nothing I can do. I have to accept that I can't do everything that needs to be done. I have to let go; do what I can and leave what I can't. It's not so easy though.

IBS

I was diagnosed with irritable bowel syndrome on 16th June'10. Just what the doctor had predicted. Wonderful. Just what I needed. Not.

But what to do? Get on with it I suppose. The doc didn't offer me any drugs. I'm happy about that. I take enough drugs already. All prescription drugs by the way.

I decided to closely monitor the symptoms to see exactly how disruptive it is for me. To put it into context. See if I can cope; if I can manage it. I was advised by the doc to change my diet. He recomended white bread, white rice, cooked veg, and to avoid dairy. Mmmm....

So I have to do a bit of diary keeping a bit of research and a bit of monitoring.

Now maybe you can see what I mean when I say family ie. - siblings and parents = poor health for me. This is why I have to put myself first. I'm falling to bits physically and mentally. So it's going to be self presivation or self destruct. That's the bottom line - no pun intended :(

Loving brother.

I went to Princess Grace Hospital in London today for a scan. My husband drove and we were there early morning. I had to have this horrid proceedure not just a common all garden scan. But hay ho.... I just got on with it. The scan was to rule out irritable bowel syndrome but it was highly likely that IBS would not be ruled out. Hay ho....

When I left the hospital I was quite depressed. I argued with my husband. I had such a lot on my mind. I was upset about the scan, I was upset that I had text my brother about the scan and he hadn't replied - so my husband (nearest and dearest) got it in the neck, as usual! Lovely!

I went to work after the test. Stupid thing to do. I stayed for a couple of hours with as much dignity as I could muster, then I threw the towel in and went home.

Awful horrid day.

Mum.

Mum's back in hospital again. She was admitted early on Friday 4th June. She has fluid around the heart and in the lungs which makes breathing difficult. She has a lot of problems which complicate things. Kidney problems, liver problems, diabetes, arthritis, osteoporosis and the list goes on and on.

My brother has been looking after my Dad and my Mum during this time. He has enlisted the help of one of my nephews. Not the awful orphan or his brother though. I'm pretty sure that would be too much like hard work for my brother, so he won't even bother. My brother's been back and forward to and from Milton Keynes since Mum went into hospital.

A year ago I would have been helping out but not now; not for the last 11 months. I'll do the minimum now and put myself first; not my brother, not my Mum and not my Dad. Just me.

I went to see Mum on 14th June - she'd been in hospital for 10 days already. She was ok considering all her problems. She was sitting up. She talked to me for the best part of and hour. She didn't want her dinner, I persuaded her to have a tiny bit. Then she had a mango that I had cut up and taken in for her. Luckily my Dad had asked me to do that on his behalf. I wouldn't have thought of taking in any food for Mum.

Mum has a very poor appetite. She eats less and less. I don't think she wants to be here any more; don't think she wants to live. But she's not ready to give up 100% as she feels she has to look after my Dad. I think she fears that none of her surviving kids will look after Dad. This is not all guess work on my part; Mum has said as much to me in the past few months. Like any elderly infirm person who has children, she wants to be looked after and cared for. She finds it difficult to accept that what she wants and what she has are two very different things. But that's life.

I felt bad that I took so long to visit Mum but I wasn't well enough to visit her. She was so poorly that I didn't think she was well enough to be in my company. That might sound like excuses but too bad if it does. I told mum I would be back in a week. My week is up and I didn't go to see Mum or Dad. Not good but that's how it is. I had to go to work today; I don't usually work on a Monday but there was a meeting I had to attend, so I went in. Then I had an appointment with my GP. By the time I had done all that I went home. In the past I would have made the extra effort to go to Mum and Dad then suffer for it later. End up not sleeping; then get up with a blinding headache then calling in sick to work then ending up with blocked sinus because of the stress. It's not worth it so I won't do it now. I come first at last.

With any luck Mum will be home soon. Hope so for Mum's sake.