I had been dreading these last few days knowing that as soon as the weekend came, I'd be visiting mum. I had been in touch with the nursing home every day or so to check how she was, and each time the nurse-in-charge told me she had been a little more settled that the first week but was still being very aggressive and rejecting help when the staff tried to deliver personal care.
Of course, I still have the memory of my last week, a week ago now, in my mind and how awful it was to endure hearing her scream and wail on the other side of the wall while two nurses tried to clean and change her. My father however had made two visits since then and had experienced her in different moods. He didn't need to tell me how upsetting it was for him as I know just how he would have behaved himself while in her presence - I have seen it myself in the former residential home.
That same dread came over me as we made our way to the home and parked up. Our lad, nearly 11 months old now (and I am guilty that I haven't devoted much time or content on this blog to his development and progress as I had intended, but I guess the situation with mum had been the focus since November) was asleep so my wife stayed in the car while I checked in on my own to see how she was.
When I entered the corridor where the residents are housed, her voice was again the first thing I heard. That same thing that has been with me since I was as young as I can remember, still there all this time.
She was at the other end of the corridor in the second day room. She had half a beaker of milk and had spilled most of it on her trousers. She was at least dressed but wore no socks as usual. She instantly knew who I was and called my name, but was babbling and talking gibberish to the person sat next to her. I lead her back to her room ("Room 3") and found it encouraging that she was at least still mobile and able to get along holding the hand rail. I said I'd help to change her trousers, but she wanted to use the toilet - which fortunately is just opposite her room, so we went together to the door and after some encouragement, managed to get her inside without her taking her trousers down in the corridor. Sounds silly I know, but those of you who deal with this kind of thing regularly know exactly what I'm talking about.
The next surprise was that she also took her underwear down far enough and managed to sit on the toilet properly. Again, doesn't sound like much but a huge improvement on what we've experienced in the last couple of months. She drew her clothes us, washed her hands and out we went.
When I got back into the room with her, she even mentioned her grandson and said his name - which came as a shock to me at first. How did she remember? I know by that time that my wife had taken our son from the car and made their way past the window to the entrance, so she will have seen them.
The next thing was changing her trousers. She complained it was cold and obviously it wasn't comfortable sitting there with spilled liquid on them, so I managed to take them off without too much trouble, and one of the nursing staff noticed me trying to put on the new pair and she came in to assist. Mum managed to lift her leg up for us to put them on - again, another little sign of improvement compared to the last couple months.
The next thing was that she even lifted her feet to me when I wanted to put socks on for her. Previously in the residential home, she'd become afraid and tell me it hurts, but this time she complied without any issue.
Not only that, but she was generally more alert, smiling and spoke English more often with us.
If only each of our visits were like that, then we could at least breath a little sigh of relief and know that something good might be happening, despite all the awful experiences we've gone through in the last months.
Tomorrow is Mother's Day and we will visit again. We must hope for the best and expect the worst. Today may have just been a one-off - we shall never know. But quite honestly, I saw more of my mother today that I have done since the start of the year. She had regained some spark and some life in her that had been missing. It was a good visit.
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