I feel like I'm experiencing some sort of Ground Hog Day syndrome.... no sooner is mum over one crisis than the next one comes along and we are jerked back to square one. It really did look like we were on the road to recovery, mum was progressing nicely on the crutches, and was more like her usual self. Last weekend I took her down to the coffee bar, okay so she persuaded me to take her outside so she could have a cigarette - so what! I actually took that as a good sign, as daft as it sounds. Then we had really nice cup of tea in the coffee bar, she was quite comfy in the wheelchair, got back to the ward, she showed off her prowess on her crutches, so off I went feeling happy, and leaving a happy mum. Next day my sister went in, taking along her daughter and son, again mum was in good form, they went off to the hospital restaurant for some tea. Yep, we all breathed a huge sigh of relief, felt sure mum would be home by this weekend. We should have known better.
On Sunday, just as I had got back from my lovely walk mum called, she sounded really shaky, her wound had burst open and had bled heavily. It seemed there had been a large haematoma under the wound, and it had burst. She needed another two units of blood, plus some glucose. My sister went in to see mum that night, she was a lot better, but fed up cos she was back in bed. We all told ourselves it was just a minor setback. Went in to see mum on Monday, to find she couldn't move her foot, more worryingly she couldn't feel me touching it. Consultant came along, looked at wound, proposed a couple of possible treatments, then I mentioned the now paralysed foot, he looked very concerned, said that changed everything, he had no choice but to operate for a 3rd time. Not what we wanted. So yesterday mum had her 3rd op, only fairly minor, but she has had four units of blood as her blood count keeps dropping, as does her BP. She seemed fine after the op, in fact I left her scoffing a butty and enjoying a cup of tea.
I daren't think about her progressing more than a day at a time. I almost took my frustration out on a bath board, I'd ordered a new one and it came today, so I started to put it together only to find that one of the screws had not been made properly... I nearly chucked the damn thing thru the window. Feel like I'm in a pressure cooker, but the pressure keeps building up. Made an appointment to see the doctor, definitely need something more than just the beta blockers.
As for crafting... forget it. Too busy going back and forth to hospital, the hospital is just so bloody awkward to get to. I counted the sets of lights today, 11... all of which seem to turn to red as I get to them! Plus hospital car parking charges, £2 a time - do they consider those whose relatives are in for long periods of time? And lets not mention petrol.... had to scrabble around today to make sure I had a full tank, I wasn't one of the panic buyers, my need is genuine - I have to have petrol to get to the damn hospital.
Going to try to get some scrapping done over the weekend... if I don't implode.