There is a fine line between ‘living’ in front of the TV and pushing those boundaries.
I believe that. So does mum.
Being so very poorly before we came on holiday, we all thought we would have to cancel. With no refund that did sting a bit. Yet we had the paramedics out and as I gave them all details of mums obs and symptoms, they knew I was able to watch for changes and gave me Sepsis information – so I was on red alert.
Prior to flying (by literally 22 hours) mum turned a corner and decided she was well enough to go. Feeling excited, I began making plans and sorting cases and telling the twins. Nathan was beginning to feel like he had the flu at this stage and really wasn’t well enough to go which made us all sad. He’s home with his lovely girlfriends family and Lewis came instead. (Jasmines boyfriend).
So far, this holiday has been hard work. The carer role is really beginning to step up now and I’m feeling it. Am I up to the job? It’s hard. Mum is afraid a lot of the time and needs lots of reassuring. She constantly loses focus on what she is doing which can be a problem when walking as she never looks where she is going. Dragging on my arm is giving me a bit of a shoulder issue so that needs to be re-thought. The wheelchair has been a lifesaver once again but there are hills beyond my capability of pushing.
All the while, as usual, I have silly university work giving me stress. They don’t pat you on the back and remind you how great you’re doing for even trying. That’s not their job, agreed but as a human being, it would be nice. Quitting now would be an insult to the struggles I have been through, an insult to Dad. Just not feeling it.
Gaseroenterology are rather worried about my crohns. I need surgery and treatment and am now also under rheumatology. My own struggles need to take a little bit of a back seat. Mum makes me roll my eyes when she says, “What are WE going to do if you end up in hospital?”
Most of the hours we have spent here are with mum in bed, coughing badly. She spiked another temperature yesterday. I gave her paracetamol and checked her obs. Her oxygen in the blood (you know that little finger thing they put on you?) was low. I ran to the restaurant and brought her ice cream which she enjoyed and got frustrated as the shakes and finger twitches she has are getting bad. Telling her it really doesn’t matter if the ice cream pot lay on its side seemed to settle her and once again she was sleeping. Still now, 17 hours later.
This said, we have had several amazing moments. Yes, this is a worry. No, of course I’m not relaxed. But we have memories and photographs to look back over. Making the most of what we can, when we can. Mum knows this. I can sense she does.