Day 3,503 IN (really actually IN) the Nanny June Care Home

The One with the September Flurries

I think there are moments with dementia which is like a landslide or avalanche. There comes a day or moment where the ground just gives way and everything changes. It seems to come out of nowhere with no warning or advance notice. But actually, it was always there, just waiting to happen. More snow falls, and just sort of slowly creates a situation, snow flurry by snow flurry.

June had a fall earlier this month, and like the ninety year old rubber ball that she is, she bounced back pretty well.

Last time I went to visit she stayed asleep. She does that a lot now. The sleeping.

The walking also isn’t great. She used a frame and a wheelchair. Then there was the fall.

She needs some blood tests but won’t let staff take any. There was cajoling, bribery and reasoning. Trying again and again. But then, it’s not worth causing her distress and no one wants to hurt her if she struggles.

She doesn’t like taking the tablets. Won’t take the tablets. So there’s covert giving now. Except she’s not eating much so the medication isn't going in with the meals either. She was on dementia medication so without taking those her decline will be greater. Then there is thyroxine medication which is fairly essential and she has been on forever. It's one of those things you shouldn't Google: what happens if you don't take thyroxine.

There has been some steady weight loss. Obviously, the less you eat… She has never eaten much though, never been a big eater. A cigarette and a cup of tea and a biscuit and she was good to go. A roast dinner once a week, tomatoes on toast in the middle of the week, a few bags of crips now and then, along with copious cups of tea in the day and a few sherries in the evening and the world was easily managed.

Snow flurry by snow flurry.

Nothing big has happened. No last rites being called - but today I qualified for a compassionate visit. All my visits now will be on compassionate grounds.

I passed the temperature test, I signed the forms, and answered the questions correctly. I did a LFT. I donned the PPE. I sat outside for long enough to get the results and then finally was escorted around the outside of building to use the shortest route possible to her room, using a fire exit and the type of stairwells that visitors don't usually see.

After 18 months since I last visited my mum and had physical contact with her - I FINALLY got to do it again today. I live in a house full of children. I get my personal space invaded constantly. This was probably the first physical affection Nanny June had been shown in 18 months.

The joy of NO GLOVES(!) meant actual skin on actual skin. I didn't just grab her hand because I am as good as a stranger, so I just stroked it. And said "Hi. I'm your daughter. You are my mum. Are you okay?"

This little dormouse of a woman sat in a chair in new slippers and a sparkly jumper. Biscuits on her lap (which we all know is the best place to keep biscuits) and a double handed plastic beaker of lukewarm tea next to her. She ate the biscuit and drank the tea because the woman still has priorities.

Then I chatted and she gazed past me, ate her biscuits, drank her tea.

I enthused about her new room and ooh the ensuite is nice. It's great to come and see you I haven't seen you for a while. Your my mum. I am your daughter. Do you remember you had a baby >insert life story< called Elizabeth. Then I had a flicker of glorious recognition before it was gone again.

Then she tried to fall asleep and I had to shout at her to stay awake for just ten more minutes. I did that a few times which potentially ruined the moment but I needed to get from this what I could. If the shouting didn't work I left my chair placed the socially distanced 2 meters away (that I was told I had to stay in) and squeezed her knee. Long after the designated window of five minutes allowed touching. I am such a rebel. But if you leave me unsupervised than what do you expect? The first half hour I had spent unsupervised with my mum in eighteen months.

My time was up after half an hour and it was time to go. I said goodbye. I said "I love you" and she said "love you lots". Which after so little conversation was very special. I think it might be muscle memory and habitual but it's a moment that hasn't been stolen yet and for that I was thankful. I was escorted from the room but after I left I had to return one more time - just to say goodbye again and tell her I love her once more, because.

Because that might be my last chance at having her hear it and know it.

Because this next phase is an avalanche warning. Alarms are sounding, the landscape is actually changing, on the brink of significant change. Each seemingly insignificant snow flurry has the potential to cause the whole mountain to come crashing down.

Thanks to all the lovely people who ask about me and Nanny June, ask about her.

She has family who read these posts and get to see how she is. Sorry if this is hard sometimes. I spoke out some of their names today. Her children, their husbands/wives and her grandchildren. I spoke out loud the names of some my friends and their mums and dads. Trying to merge realities of everyone out there living their life and hers in the care home living hers.

Thanks to the people who walk this path with me. It's a jungle of emotion but it is real life and I don't want to hide her away. I don't want to pretend people don't get old. I don't want you to miss a moment with someone you love because no one ever told you that this is what happens sometimes.