Life in the retirement home

A little insight into the sleepy life of our quiet house…

We all stay in bed until it’s light, which means a nice lie-in on days like today when it doesn’t get light until half past nine.  Okay, that’s not true – actually, we were all up by 8:30am and each of us taking our tablets soon afterwards.  I am the tablet-taking loser of the household, as the other residents all finish theirs before I do; but I am also the tablet-taking winner, as – although I am only equal-first in number of tablets to be taken in the morning – during a whole day, I take the most tablets and at the most times, too.

I’m also the undisputed jigsaw-champ, having recently completed my second 1000-piecer of the season.  However, I only boast about this because I can get the hang of the crossword.

The sprightly young things in the home took me out for a little drive yesterday.  To hospital, it’s true, but it’s nice to get out and, at my age, you don’t get many opportunities.  I had a scan and it was ever so interesting:  I saw bones and limbs and internal organs and all sorts.  They said everything was fine, so off home I went for a cup of tea.

By evening, we were all of us sitting round the telly, pretending not to fall asleep.  What a busy day!

 

How to fill a day

Have you ever started a day wondering how you will fill the hours till it ends?  Stuck in the house feeling fairly unwell because of a cocktail of drugs, miles away from your family and your normal life?  Well, I’ve been there – and here’s my advice…

…sleep as late in the day as you can.  Get up only when you’re desperate for food.  If you’re pregnant, this’ll probably be quite early anyway.

…eat cereal and at least four slices of toast, but not all at the same time.  You can while away most of the morning eating breakfast.

…take your tablets.  This will fill the rest of your morning.

…enjoy lunch – actually, enjoy all your meals and snacks.  Food and sleep are two of the greatest things in life and not to be undervalued.

…have a nap, to recover from the exertion of the morning’s activities.  Don’t forget your medicine if you need it around now.

…read the paper, thoroughly.  Cultivate an interest in politics, and world news – from whatever country it may come.  Try to cultivate an interest in business and sport – this is much much harder and I’m still struggling with it.  Do the sudokus (4 in my paper!) and the concise crossword.  Do the cryptic crossword if you’re clever enough.  (I’m not.)

…sit and look around the room for a while.  You don’t want to overdo it, now!

…wonder vaguely why you’re yawning when it’s only 6 o’clock and you only woke from your nap three hours ago.

…spend the evening yawning.  Listen to conversations, join in if feeling very alert, watch TV if there’s something good on, read a book or at least open it on your lap so that your eyes have something to do if they feel the urge.

…go to bed early.  Don’t think at all about how many times you will be up in the night.  Sleep is great, and what you miss in quality you can always make up for in quantity.

Well, I do hope you’ve found something useful in there.  I can’t imagine who my audience might be for this post, as I don’t think I know of anyone in this peculiar situation.  Still, if you ever find yourself unexpectedly plunged into a similar predicament, you are now armed with some ideas!

 

Not a miracle, then

An apt follow-up to my last, up-beat post, I feel…

Went to town again yesterday.  Needed more medicine from the chemist, so thought I’d try getting it myself.  Popped into the toy shop on the way past.  It’s brilliant – much bigger than last time I went and full of lovely things.  Couldn’t decide on anything to buy there and then, but spent a while looking at all the gorgeous doll’s house things you can get for not too much…  That was probably my mistake.

Next stop the stationer’s, for a couple of things I need if I’m to make Christmas cards this year.  (Reading the newspaper cover to cover and doing the sudokus only takes you so far through a day…)  Feeling a bit woozy, but it’s only as I approach the cash desk to pay that I realise I really have to sit down.  And as I do, everything goes fuzzy and sounds are distant.  I need to lie down.  Or be sick.  Or get to a loo?  Glass of water, maybe?  Oooh, I feel dreadful.  And so hot!  Need to get my coat off.  And my jumper.  Better phone Dad…

I guess I was on the verge of fainting, but having only done that once before, I don’t have a clear idea how it feels.  In any case, it was rather embarrassing – take up the time of the shop assistant in a busy shop with my requests for water and help finding the loo…  A lovely, lovely customer with wonderfully chilly hands from being outside put one hand on my forehead and one on the back of my neck as I sat, unable to move and only partially aware of my surroundings, beside the till.  Funny, that.  In any other situation, it would be incredibly odd to accept such touches!

Dad came to pick me up, and I felt wobbly for a little while, and headachy and fragile for the rest of the afternoon.  And I thought I was getting back to normal, a healthy 30-something pregnant woman.  Was I naive?

 

Changes

I just walked back from the doctor’s (about a ten minute walk).  To some people that might not sound like much to remark on, but you may have gathered from earlier entries that I’ve been housebound.  Seriously.  In the “shuffling walk” days a couple of weeks ago, I could shuffle from the living room to the kitchen, but gratefully made use of the chair in the hall on the way.  That awful drug was to blame, of course, and two weeks ago my dose was halved.  Some of the side-effects lessened straight away (eg the dry mouth – suddenly I was able to go twenty minutes without having a sip of drink!); others disappeared (shuffling walk), but some hung around persistently and inability to walk further than the next room was one of them.

Perhaps it’s taken a while for my system to adjust to the new dose, but over the past two or three days, I’ve been feeling better:  getting up less in the night, feeling less nauseous, getting dressed before lunchtime, able to stand for more than ten seconds.  Maybe it’s a miracle.  Or just pregnancy changes.  Whatever it is, that’s the furthest I’ve been able to walk for three months.  Three months!

It would be just the right time, too.  Although I’ve been persuading myself to believe that I’m just an incubator for the next few months and my own health (serious issues aside) and spirits are of limited consequence, there is the persistent awareness of children and a husband that used to be part of my life… and whom, indeed, I’m hoping to see at the end of the month when they next have a school holiday.  If I continue at this level, I will be able to enjoy their company rather than just struggle through it with a painted smile for the sakes of the children.  Wouldn’t that be great!

 

Hello baby!

Had my dating scan today, which brought the due date three days forward from the one I’d been expecting (it’s now 8th April), so in a few days’ time I will be 17 weeks.  That’s rather good given that four weeks ago a doctor thought I was at 9 weeks!  And almost at the halfway mark…

Mum came along to see her grandchild, which was great, because I’ve had loads of scans now (a few extra ones for G – and R, I think) and know what to expect, but this was the first one she’s seen.  I have to say, though, that this is the first one where the picture’s been clear enough that I saw not only the eye sockets but the actual eye itself.  The baby was as active as mine usually are (actually, I think I’ve been feeling kicks the past couple of days) – a great sign for the future, I’m sure…

 

A step in the right direction

Saw the consultant this morning and my blood pressure has come down dramatically!  He was surprised, too!  It still has further to come, but this is the first time it’s moved away from high readings into the range of mild hypertension, so hooray for that.

Given that pleasing news, he was more amenable to listening to my complaints about the hated drug.  I took along my leaflet with the now 12 side effects I have experienced circled in pen and described how it seemed to have turned an active mother of three into a shuffling, housebound, fatigued old woman.  He let me halve the dose this week and we will see what happens next week – there is a possibility, he said, that he might let me drop it altogether – but I don’t want to get my hopes up.  I shall see if I notice any improvement this week and concentrate on that.

Have been having some nice phone conversations with E recently.  (I’m not generally up to chatting on the phone but make exceptions for my children – and husband!)  She’s quite confident speaking on the phone (has had plenty of practice from the past when Daddy was able to travel) and is now of an age where she will ask questions of me as well as chatter away about herself.  It’s quite touching:  she was asking all about my tablets the other day – she’s an old pro on the subject because she’s used to seeing me line them up on the breakfast table.

And the other day, I was lucky enough to talk to all three (and my husband, but he’s got the hang of talking on the phone quite well now, so talking to him isn’t so sweet), including a good detailed description of the day from R (“I played till lunchtime and after lunch I played some more…”) and a lovely “Hello, Mummy” and later, “Bye, Mummy” from G.  Ahhhh…..

 

Life of a hermit

Yes, rather high-tech hermit – I’m not relinquishing my internet connection…

But I do feel like I’m retreating from the world a little.  I thought I would write here earlier, tell you about the midwife’s visit, but on Saturday I spent large chunks of time slumped in my chair, not even up to reading a paper and certainly not up to the busy, noisy TV, so sitting up and thinking creatively seemed out of my reach.  Then on Sunday I stayed at home while my parents went to church – I had fully expected this to happen since about Wednesday, but it was still a little disappointing – made less so by the existence of Christian radio.  Listening to a service on the radio is great – like church with sofas and regular breaks to make drinks, snacks, visit loo etc.  When my parents returned from church, my brain was so full of cotton wool that I could listen happily to what was being said but offer no real contributions of my own…

When I was making plans to return to the UK, I thought Skype would be a good way to keep in touch with the children.  Now I’m starting to wonder.  Currently, I’m managing to wash my hair once a week, I have an attractive group of spots mushrooming on my face and I left all my make-up behind.  I could go shopping, but based on the last experience I can only manage one shop per trip – and I want to buy something to send for E’s birthday before I think about shopping for make-up…  Ah!  I’ve just realised – that means that buying a webcam is way down the list at shopping trip number three.  So I think I can stay hidden for another week or two, then…

 

Senior moments

I had a rough day yesterday.  I thought once I got to the UK and had nothing to do, no responsibilities, I’d feel a bit better, but yesterday proved me wrong in that, just as I’ve been proved wrong in so many other optimistic thoughts…  Yesterday it took me nearly till midday to finish taking my morning tablets.  I then overdid it by washing my hair – and had to leave getting dressed till the afternoon.  I did get a lift to the shops and back, where I made a couple of necessary purchases, but I paid for my activity in the evening by feeling wretched again.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t go to bed early because I’d taken my first dose of the awful drug so late that I was waiting around to take the third dose!

Mum understands all this weakness better than I do, as she has had ME for twelve years (and if you don’t know much about ME, watch this – it’s a brilliant introduction to the illness, although a bit close to home for me at the moment – I was in tears by the end!).  So she says wise things, such as “You did too much today, washing your hair and going to the shops,” and I’m still thinking, how can that be too much?

Anyway, to wallow in my misery, I took out the leaflet from the box of yukky tablets and circled all the side-effects that I’ve experienced.  There are eleven of them!  Some of them you won’t want to hear about, but the most comical is that I have developed a shuffling walk – and, in my pink, fluffy slippers which I’ve been happy to be reunited with, I feel particularly old-lady-ish!  I’ve tried lifting my feet up a bit, but it’s too tiring on my legs, so I’ve given up now and just giggle when I walk (as long as I’m feeling well enough!).  The other day I sat around the house most of the day wearing a skirt with socks and plenty of bare leg showing between the two – ooh, senior fashion!

And the doctor the other day commented on how young my mum is – so I’m on my own in this one!! 

 

Hospital appointment

So what did I discover at the hospital this morning?

• I was right to worry about the medication the previous doctor had suggested when I was admitted to hospital before my return
• The new tablet has done nothing to bring down my blood pressure.
• The awful horrible tablets are here to stay, so I’m preparing to feel awful for six months.
• I am borderline underweight – and those of you who know how much I eat will know that I fight against that as much as I can!  Maybe being in a country of so much delicious food and such variety will help that…

I had a few tests – blood, ECG – but don’t know any results yet.  Next appointment in a week’s time.

But in the meantime I have a first appointment with the midwife (at home!) to look forward to on Friday.  It’ll be nice to feel normally pregnant for a few moments!

M is returning to the children now, flying tonight.  By all accounts, they’ve been coping marvellously, but are starting to feel a little adrift at times and looking forward to seeing Daddy again.  I wish I knew when I am going to see him – and them – again…

 

Flying without children

Wow.  It’s a completely different experience from travelling with them!  Pity I wasn’t feeling great for bits of the flight, so couldn’t quite make the most of it – and needed to sleep during the flight that had loads of good films on, but M and I did watch Mars Attacks! together on the first one which was as much fun as when we saw it the first time.  Hopefully, when I return they’ll show The Time Traveller’s Wife; I loved the book, so it’d be interesting to see the film and immerse myself in the story again.  Mind you, perhaps as I loved the book it’d be a mistake to watch the film…

As soon as I explained to people that I was three months’ pregnant and finding it difficult walking and standing, I got loads of support from everyone.  On both flights, we were moved to business class for landing so that we could be among the first off the plane.  M and I managed Dubai airport together, but I was worried about Heathrow because it’s huge and we landed first thing in the morning (after not enough sleep), so I knew I’d be feeling at my worst.  However, I was allowed to ride in a buggy with the wheelchair users to passport control.  M had to walk, so he went on ahead to get the rental car.  The queue for passport control looked dauntingly large, but the woman assisting the wheelchair users said she didn’t want me trying it on my own, so I obediently waited for help.

A man came along who said he’d accompany me through, and as he was taking an empty wheelchair with him, I thought I might as well sit in it!  He then took me all the way through to arrivals, since he was off for his coffee break!  All so much easier than I’d feared… and I just had time to buy a snack for the journey before M arrived with the car.

Drove down to Dorset and to the doctor’s appointment that Mum and Dad had arranged for me.  I’m still on the horrid drug for the time being (and am now trying to swallow one mega-tablet instead of two far-too-big tablets each time… grateful for Mum’s tablet-cutter!), but they’ve added in a new one and I have an appointment at the hospital tomorrow.  M’s staying here to come with me to the hospital (and look after Mum and me as Dad is out all day) and then he’ll have to fly back.

Meanwhile, I’m enjoying TV in my own language and having no responsibilities beyond getting my own bowl of cereal and the occasional drink!  And given that I still need a good sit down after doing anything as energetic as that, and lots of sleep, I’m feeling grateful for pretty much everything…

…

Have just re-read the last few entries and realise I haven’t told you anywhere where the children are!  My wonderful sister-in-law, who lives, as some of you may know, in the same city as us, is looking after them this week, along with her three of similar ages to ours, and while also working as a primary school teacher.  It won’t surprise you to hear that she’s one of the people I’m feeling most grateful for this week!

Apparently when G’s nursery “teacher” (can you call them that at that age?) asked him where he slept last night, he said, “In a bed,” so his feet are firmly on the ground and it doesn’t sound like he’s having too hard a time.  “What house was the bed in?”  “S’s.  I see B and E.”  These are his three favourite children after E and R, so he and the girls are probably in the best place they could be at such a difficult time.