A New Home

I had almost given up on attempting to write anything here, but in the last two weeks there has been progress made at least.

Mum's condition however has gone from bad to worse - we have never seen her in such a distressed and hysterical state as she's been in the last few visits we've made to the residential home. In the time I've been signed off work by my GP, we've had meetings and discussed options for mum's care as the care home, as I've probably mentioned many times in this blog, just can't cope with her or give her the level of care she needs.

We considered whether bringing her home would help. My father and I started to clear space in the living room for a bed, seeing as the bathroom is downstairs, to help with day to day toileting needs and easy access to the bathroom during the night. But, all parties involved - social services, the care home, the CCG (Clinical Commissioning Group) and the doctors that have said that "the patient is not safe to go home", meaning there is a high level of risk in her being at home with dad, even with a care package in place such as having 2 carers visit them 4 times a day.

What this means for dad is that he will, at least for the foreseeable future, have to accept the fact that she won't be coming home, and I doubt she ever will now.

Social services contacted a few local nursing homes to review mum to see if they would take her. One had refused on the basis of not having any vacancies and another had refused because they couldn't provide the level of care she needs. Only this weekend, after I had visited and found her in such a distressing state and moments after emailing social services and the CCG to request a change to her medication that another nursing home called me to say they will accept her, and that arrangements would be made for her discharge from the current care home.

It's difficult to process seeing your own mother in such a miserable state. I felt that awful trepidation when entering through into the area at my last visit, but instead of seeing her sat in the day room, I heard her wailing and crying in her room down the corridor. Dinner all over the floor and desk, dirty clothes, no socks on, and a bed unmade and left to dry out after she had obviously had an accident. Her knees are bruised from throwing herself on the floor in her worst moments. Rejecting even my help to wash her hands and wipe food from her hair and face. She is a frail, scared and broken woman now.

The transfer happened yesterday while I was catching up during my first day back at work. I was very anxious about the move - would she let them dress and move her, would she be non-compliant or aggressive, would she refuse to go outside? Apparently though it went quite smoothly, from what I have been told, and by the end of the day I was informed she was already settling in to the nursing home. It's at least a step in providing better care for mum. It's such a pity it didn't happen when I was off work and available to help with her transfer.

Today, I visited her myself. My sister had visited the home last night and fed back some positive news, and my father has already been there too. I found her in the common room in a settled and pleasant mood. But how long will that last? The nursing home has both men and women mixed together and many of them are mobile. I only hope the episodes that the former residential home experienced with her in the afternoons and evenings don't occur in that environment. I fear that something awful might happen given the amount of people moving around amongst themselves...

But, it's only been a day so far. We need to give it time. I must admit feeling terribly sad as I sat next to her today, in another new environment with new strange faces. Time will tell...