Muckdate 10: One of Those Weeks
What a week that has been! It's had it all: sunshine, an event for over 100 people, illness - oh, and the police. Read on...
Monday was onto a sticky wicket before it even began. My Dad was scheduled to have a hospital appointment but my Mum, who would usually take him, wasn't able to do so. My parents have been separated for 25+ years, but they have maintained a largely cordial relationship - which is a good job, because when my Dad had a massive stroke a year ago, resulting in cortical blindness and severe short-term memory loss, my (saintly) Mum stepped in to help him navigate this new and terrible version of the world he found himself in.
Dad's disabilities are too severe for him to live anywhere except a nursing home as he requires round-the-clock care and assistance. Although his eyes technically work, the part of his brain that processes images was completely destroyed by a haemorrhage and so he cannot see anything at all, not even light and dark. Add to this further stroke damage to parts of his brain involving memory, spatial awareness, and mood, and what you have is someone who knows that they are blind (although it actually took weeks for his brain to realise this - his memory filled in the gaps at first, just not with accurate remembrances of where he really was), but cannot remember where they are, who is caring for them, or what they need to do to look after themselves. Newly and completely blind, his memory problems mean he struggles to learn new skills (like finding things by himself), remember new people (like his carers), and retain up-to-date information about people he cares about (there have been a lot of questions about why he hasn't seen his parents - the man is 75, so I am sure you can hazard a guess.)
Dad in happier times, wearing the gansey I made for him as part of my book This Golden Fleece
So although Dad remembers us, his family, he lives in a world of perpetual darkness and uncertainty. There is also a lot of fear: he relies on his hearing for almost everything, so any unusual noises can be confusing and scary for him. When he's agitated or worried about something, his memory goes on a 1-minute loop as his emotions override any new information trying to get into his brain. So going to hospital for a heart check up, involving a 25-minute drive in an unfamiliar vehicle without someone he knows really well (my Mum), was always going to be a bit of an ask.
My Dad lives in Suffolk, so it was far too far for me to come down to help. One of my brothers lives abroad, and the other has a fairly busy job in central government: neither could be with him to accompany him to hospital first thing in a Monday morning. So we arranged and paid for a private taxi to take him directly to his appointment (otherwise it would be shared hospital transport), and stressed to the care home that he would need an experienced carer who knows Dad well and can manage him in new and difficult situations. As Dad has 24-hour 1-2-1 care (thankfully state-funded), he has a number of carers who help him - some more adept at managing his needs than others. Unfortunately, we can't request individuals for particular days, so it wasn't one of Dad's core team who was with him that Monday morning. But I rang him the night before his appointment and first thing on Monday to talk him through what would be happening, hoping that this might help him to remember what was going on.
The first I knew that something was wrong was when Dad called - or rather his carer did, asking if I could talk to Dad to get him to put on his seatbelt. This I duly did - only to be called back 15 minutes later to hear the carer imploring my Dad to calm down, stop hitting him, and to sit back down. As soon as I heard this, I knew Dad was highly, highly panicked, and gleaned that he was trying to get out of the moving car as it was taking him to hospital. He couldn't remember who his carer was, thought he was being taken somewhere against his will, and didn't understand that the unfamiliar noises were other cars zooming past on the motorway. I talked him thorugh things and tried to calm him, but as soon as I paused for breath Dad lunged for freedom, striking and swearing at his carer as he tried to stop him. Awful, awful, awful - for Dad, and everyone else involved.
In the background I could hear the taxi driver trying to get Dad to sit down down, but to no avail, so after a while he called the police as he couldn’t drive until Dad was sat down with his seatbelt on and they were stuck on the motorway hard shoulder. Once the police arrived they escorted him out of the taxi and put him straight into their car. By this time he was a bit calmer and seemed to respond well to the policemen. After some discussion, they asked me to stay on the phone and talk with him whilst they drove him to hospital, so for half an hour I tried to talk about everything I could think of to keep his mind in a calm space. Porridge, the weather, my brothers, my kids; Dad was pretty monosyllabic but at least he was calm and quiet. I kept asking him what he could hear and whether the car was moving: he told me what he could and eventually I heard the policeman open the door and ask him to take off his seatbelt. The hospital appointment that followed was apparently uneventful.
After this I took the kids (who were being looked by their working-from-home dad whilst this drama was taking place) round to a friend on the island's for a playdate. They provided lots of tea and snacks, exactly what we needed, as well as Disney for the 4-year-old and cuddles for the baby. Thus revived, we were just about to leave to meet the ferry (which was bringing our shopping for the week ahead) when disaster struck (again): I'd parked on a muddy verge outside their house and my wheels were now well and truly stuck in the mud! Fortunately my friend's partner is the island's gamekeeper and it was lunchtime so both he and the trainee keeper were nearby - what luck they were, as they knew exactly what to do. They got the tow rope attached to the front of my car and then to their 6x6 ATV, then one of them pushed the car forward as I tried to drive in second gear. First attempt resulted in nothing but a face full of mud for the head keeper (what a rotten thank you!), but second time around we got some traction and on the third (lucky) try I was away - straight to the ferry to pick up our supplies, which other people had very kindly unloaded from the delivery van for me.
Back home we wheelbarrowed supplies back to the house, got some lunch into everyone, and were just sitting down for stories and a return work when I noticed that I wasn't feeling that great. Achey, a bit hot, tired - I definitely felt like I was coming down with something. So I had a warm bath and returned to bed to try and sleep it off whilst my husband wrote off his working day to take care of the kids. We got through Monday, but it did feel rather by the skin of our teeth. And of course, this week is also the nursery half-term holiday!
Tuesday was a low-key day spent trying to keep away from the kids where possible in case I had something nasty (Covid tests persistently negative) and resting as much as I could. It was much the same on Wednesday - with the exception of my Knitting and the Sea talk scheduled for the evening to prepare for. Fortunately I was feeling much more normal by then, so I was able to go ahead with it - and would like to say a huge thank you to everyone who came, as we had a really good turnout.
By Thursday I was properly back on my feet and the weather had taken a turn for the sunny, so I had some gentle time in the garden and with my knitting (more on that later). And yesterday was abolished fabulous: warm, fairly still, and sunny, so I'm going to end this post about our rather turbulent wweek with some pictures of our lovely afternoon at the beach. Because even when family are far away and things aren’t going quite to plan, this island and its people are a wonderful consolation.
Playing on Gallanach beach with the Isle of Eigg in the backgroud.
Beach-combing on the rocks with the Isles of Rum (left) and Eigg (right).
Take care everyone and look forward to sharing some knitting news with you soon!
