Mum Back in Hospital

I’d told Mum I’d take her to the hospital for a routine blood test on Wednesday because she’s a bit wobbly on her feet and is suffering from agoraphobia (she does’t want to go out).

The three kids and I drove down to her flat straight after we’d spent the morning walking around a woodland trail. When we got there however, she came to the door and told me that she had to go back onto the psychiatric ward. Apparently the crisis team had sent a doctor over for another evaluation and the doctor had decided she wasn’t fit to be at home. She really didn’t want to go back, and to be honest I’m not sure what the benefit was to her when she went in two weeks ago, so I called the crisis team to ask.

It turns out that Mum is not taking her medication as prescribed. I know she saves up her sleeping tablets – she skips a day and then takes two. It’s the only way she can sleep at all, and even though she’s done that for years the health team don’t like it. However, they also said that her behaviour was worrying them as she was sitting silently instead of answering the doctors questions. And apparently mid-conversation she was doing things like throwing herself down on the floor.

I have to say, I have never seen my mum throw herself around. She has told me all sorts of stuff that has gone on in her head that is clearly not true, but I’ve never, ever seen her physically act like some mentally disturbed patients do. Maybe she doesn’t do it around me, I don’t know.

Then they dropped the bombshell – the thing that I’ve suspected for a while, but was ignoring because it’s so upsetting to deal with. They said that her memory is really poor and they suspect it might be the early stages of dementia.

I have known for a long time that this would be the route we would go down. Her memory really has been terrible for ages and the doctors have flagged it in the past as an issue. Her physical health is not good, but her mental health has always been so poor. I feel very sad. I’ve read about and heard about what it is like dealing with dementia. There’s a lot of public awareness over the condition here, and the prevalence of dementia in over 65s is around 7%.

It’s going to be really, really tough. I know that if there are things I want to know or ask, I need to make sure I do that before in the years to come she forgets who I am. And that at some point she will no longer be able to live independently and I cannot care for her physically so she will have to go into a home. I will have to watch her deteriorate before my eyes, and worry about whether staff are treating her properly. The end will be slow and difficult and hard to predict.

I think back to when I was young and I remember that although I could always tell my Mum was an older person – her hands were dry and her body wobbled more than mine and my brothers – she was still healthy and living in a way that dries up and disappears as bodies get old.

Mum said many times that she didn’t want to be admitted. I talked to her and persuaded her to pack up some stuff. Then me and the children dropped her back at the psychiatric hospital.

I looked her in the eye and told her to get herself better and get out of there. I hugged her, and left.

Emotional Decluttering – A List of Things To Try

Well, I survived the weekend.

Just.

The one year anniversary of my miscarriage. The 2nd birthday of my beautiful boy. The socialising with family who drive me crazy, yet I still can’t help but love.

I am exhausted.

Seriously.

This has been the hardest week for me, mentally, in probably 10 years.

I feel as though I hit the bottom. I cried floods of tears. I yelled at my husband. I yelled at the kids. I sat with my head in my hands wondering how the hell to escape my own thoughts.

But now here we are. A new morning. A new start. All those milestones are gone now.

It’s time to start making myself happier.

Here are the things I have planned over the coming weeks and months, in no particular order:

  • Keep running (fitness and stress reduction)
  • See craniosacral therapist (let go of miscarriage)
  • Have stone massage therapy (stress reduction)
  • Daily meditation – at home and maybe join a course/class (stress reduction)
  • Reading list: The Power of Now, You Can Heal Your Life, The Emotionally Absent Mother (deal with emotional issues)
  • Try to be more mindful, spend time each day in the moment (stress reduction, emotional clutter)
  • Take turns with DH for 3-hour block of children-free time at weekends (stress reduction)
  • No alcohol (alcohol is a depressant)
  • Stop reading miscarriage/infertility forums (emotional clutter)
  • Stop mindless surfing online (emotional clutter)
  • Get hair cut short! (new start, no hiding behind my hair)
  • Cancel social engagements for next two months (stress reduction)
  • Record daily stress level (stress reduction: baseline and peak, each day, scale of 0-10)
  • Keep my house in order (calm clear environment)
  • Be a patient, happy mummy. Be present with my boys (happy boys = happy mummy)
  • Get the toilet, cupboard door, shelves and skirting board fixed upstairs (calm clear environment)
  • Take more time to look after myself and my appearance (care about my body)
  • Try not to spend all my time thinking about having a third baby (easier said than done)

Phew. I’ve already booked appointments here there and everywhere, and next week preschool starts again so I’ll have a little more free time – blogging and keeping up with the blogs I love has fallen by the wayside slightly over the summer.

I’ve been recording my stress levels for 6 days now and boy – I am WAY more uptight than I realised. I am literally in a state of permanent red-alert. Not sustainable and so bad for my body.

I did my first guided meditation last night and it immediately made me feel so much better. Just hoping I can fit everything in.