ArtyMar's blog: buying the dream

[ArtyMar]

Mid November 2010  London

BLOG 44: No!

It’s visiting hours in the early evening. Our boys are here with us. They too, are worried at OH’s lack of response. He seems too exhausted to do anything at all, even eat – though he is now managing a little better in this regard, as we give him fortified strawberry milk drinks, ice-cream, jelly, double cream, rich rice pudding with extra jam and cream (courtesy of the nutritionist) – hardly what you would call healthy in today’s terms but at least it’s giving him the calories he needs. It seems the swallowing and chewing is too much effort but he won’t tolerate mashed potatoes or other mashed vegetables, never mind meat or fish.

Is this apathy totally physical we are asking ourselves.

Older Son voices what we are beginning to think:
“It’s almost as if he has given up.”

Daughter looks thoughtful:
“He needs a change of scene, that’s for sure. Lying in this bed day after day is bad for his morale.”

I’m a little doubtful. I’m wondering if the he’s just knocked out by the physical onslaught of the op and needs more recovery time before attempting what we’re asking. Daughter, however, has other ideas. Sons agree. We have to resurrect his fighting spirit.

We commandeer a wheel chair. OH is heading out of this ward!

With the help of three nurses, one male and two females, we hoist OH out of his chair and onto the wheel chair, complete with his special inflatable cushion, drains and tubes. OH is still saying “NO!” as we push the wheelchair out of the ward and down the corridor. We wave cheerily to the various nurses and medical staff as we go. We’re off to Costa Coffee, which has an in-hospital branch on the same floor. Not far, in terms of distance, but a world away from the enclosed curtained wall of the ward.

For the first time in weeks, OH lifts his head from his chest and looks around as the wards whizz by.

“No!” he says.

. . .  to be continued  . . .usually posted on Thursday

[gillian handbury]

ArtyMar....Costa Coffee!!!!  We were going to say what OH was thinking....Not at that price.... But then changed our minds and said Yes OH can have any thing at any price.... Can't wait for Thursdays blog....

[ArtyMar]

Mid November 2010  London

BLOG 45:  new tactics

Is OH enjoying his first expedition out of the ward? I can’t say, but we feel a sense of triumph as we career along the corridor and into the more ‘normal’ world of Costa. We receive sympathetic glances from other customers as they make space for OH’s wheelchair and us around a table. OH is oblivious and keeps his head down, eyes closed. He looks worn out and doesn’t respond to our encouraging words. We agree though, that we must do this on every visit, that it is important for his rehabilitation. And on this subject, we have a family discussion. Our biggest concern: is OH ‘giving up’? Is he losing the will to get better?

“He just looks so miserable!” says younger son sadly.

“Yes,” says Daughter thoughtfully. “I have an idea. I think he could well be depressed. I’m going to talk to the Hospital Psychiatrist.”

“You can’t just demand that”, I smile – you’ve forgotten what the NHS is like – you’ve lived so long in the US.”

“Watch me!” she says.

After our coffees (OH manages one of his strawberry milk drinks), we go back to the ward.  On the way, Daughter marches up to the nurses’ station and before we disappear into OH’s ward, we see her earnestly talking to one of the junior doctors at the station and then using the nurses’ phone.

A few minutes later she bounces back to us, gathered round OH’s bed where he is now lying peacefully. We can see how glad he is to be there! Daughter is grinning: “You’ll never guess! The hospital psychiatrist is a friend of mine, Sarah – we trained together at the Maudsley!  She’s coming round shortly to see Dad and give us her opinion!”  Small world.

Personally, I still believe that it’s all physical, that poor OH has received such a body battering that only time will heal. Daughter, though, has other ideas. “You may well be right, “ she says, “but we’ll give Nature a helping hand”.

……

It’s lovely to see Daughter and the hospital’s psychiatrist hug each other and catch up briefly on each other’s news. It’s still somewhat of a wonder to me that our children have grown up and have reached positions of eminence in their own fields. As I look at Daughter and Sons, I can see them as babies, toddlers and school children, dressed for the first time in their school uniforms. Look at them now. .

Daughter and Sarah agree that OH might benefit from antidepressants. He will be monitored closely to see if there is a positive effect in his mood that may then relay into his recovery from surgery.

My deepest fears go beyond physical recovery and depression. Because of OH’s lack of response to our questions, we haven’t really been able to gauge his mental capacity since the operation. Have the prolonged and repeated anaesthetics, or lack of oxygen caused by the catastrophic blood loss damaged his brain? Perhaps we’ll be in a better position to know this once he is able or willing to respond. The antidepressants should surely help in this respect.

People keep telling me to be patient, that ‘time will tell’ – but how much time? And what will it tell? 

..................................

. . .  to be continued  . . .usually posted on Thursday


 

[Bluwise]

Beautifully written yet again.  Thanks so much.

[ArtyMar]

Late November 2010  London

BLOG 46: turning a corner

0H is standing up. Yes! And he did it when we asked! “Now you have to walk!” Older Son is saying. “Come on, just one step! You can do it,  Dad!”

We are standing next to his bed with the curtain pulled back so he has room to walk. 0H is leaning on his walking frame. We are grouped around him like spectators at a football match urging on the team.

“Just a few more steps - come on Dad”, cries Younger Son.

0H takes two more tentative steps while we hold our breath. A couple of nurses nearby turn in our direction with approving looks. One of them smiles (she’s my favourite). Well, what do you know! Finally, he is turning a corner– but not the corner up to the end of the bed. That’s a step too far. “Just one more step”, we urge. But 0H has had enough. 

“Bed” he mutters and lurches towards the bed. We are jubilant, nevertheless. 0H sinks into the bed eyes closed. We congratulate him and tell him he is the cleverest, strongest, most wonderful man in the world. It feels as this as if he has climbed a mountain and in a sense, he has.

While 0H recovers from the effort, we go down to the cafeteria and have a family conference. Daughter says she must return soon to her home in the States. She looks at me: “Will you be okay, Mum?” Right now, my worries about 0H’s mental and physical capacity have receded a little. Funny how seeing him just taking a few steps clutching a walking frame has had such an amazing effect on me.  I just know he will now progress. The boys look a bit affronted. “We’re here, you know.”

“Please”, I laugh and it feels great to laugh again, “don’t quarrel about who’ll look after me. Let’s concentrate for the moment on looking after Dad.” That said, I know it won’t be the same when Daughter is gone. She has been able to be with me every day while the boys have not, due to their own jobs and family, plus the distance to the hospital. Why do families sometimes have to live in different countries? Momentarily, it strikes me that I, myself didn’t think much about my own parents when I struck out for pastures new – so long ago, leaving Australia to come to England. For a moment I think about all those expats living in Turkey, leaving their families behind in the UK. Do many secretly regret their decision, or like me, are they happily settled into their new lives? That brings to mind our villa being built in far away Fethiye.

But is it being built? I haven’t heard a word from Laura. All my emails have been from family and friends asking about OH. All my energy has been centred on OH. Looks like I’ll soon have to take other matters on board. I’m not ready for more battles and my heart sinks.


. . .  to be continued  . . .usually posted on Thursday
………..

[Bluwise]

 I had completely forgotten about the Villa 

[ArtyMar]

Early December 2010  London

BLOG 47: transformation

Finally, OH is making strides – literally. The drains (sounds horrible) have been removed and he’s no longer attached to drips. He’s able to sit up by the bedside for extended periods and best of all, he’s able to walk the length of the ward leaning on his walking frame. With Older Son cheering him on and shooting the scene with his iPhone, OH even walks right out of the ward past the nurses’ station in the corridor. They too cheer him on. He has a look of grim determination on his face, more like the OH of old. Hurray! I’m getting my OH back – at last. I wonder when he’ll be well enough to come and stay in our new villa in Turkey – now wouldn’t that be a lovely place to recuperate? I imagine him lying down in the sun under the shade of an umbrella by the poolside while I waft by with a tray of cool drinks and Turkish Delight (well, maybe not Turkish Delight – too sticky in the sun). But I’m jumping ahead of myself.  And anyway, the villa is still far from finished, a matter to be dealt with later. Let’s get him home from hospital first.

The time is fast approaching for Daughter to go back to her own home. It will be so hard to cope once she is gone but she has one last gift for me . “Mum”, she says “I’d like to do something for you - before I go. Perhaps there’s something I can help you with at home. You know I’m not exactly a good housekeeper but I’m good at organizing things. I thought maybe I could help you clear out some cupboards or something like that”.

Well! This is something that both intrigues me and delights me. I think hard.  And then, I have it! For years I’ve been moaning at OH about the chaotic state of his study. I know exactly what I’d like to be done. I would like to have OH return from hospital to a model study with everything clearly labeled and neatly at hand rather than having piles of files, boxes of biros and non-working clocks and torches, old magazines and newspapers mounting up in every corner of floor and shelf space.  How I’d love to throw out all that rubbish he’s been accumulating over the years; I’m sure he doesn’t even know what’s there.

When I’ve suggested that he tackle this job in the past, his response has been: “not now – I’m too busy and anyway, I know where everything is-” and the mess continues to accumulate. He finds it hard to throw things away on the premise that “I might need it later”.  I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that 0H is a hoarder, or if I haven’t, I’ve been too kind, and called him a ‘collector’.  Suddenly, I see an opportunity to transform his study so that when he returns he would find an area where he could work productively instead of always having to clear a space on his desk before he can even write a letter.

I voice these thoughts to Daughter.   “Let’s do it!” she says. “We’ll start tonight. Maybe I can also help you clear out other things you’ve been talking about - things you say you never use.” All right, I say somewhat hesitantly. Obviously she’s noticed that 0H’s study is not the only area that could do with a clear-out. But this is an offer I certainly can’t refuse. We briefly contemplate OH’s reaction to a transformed study. “Will he be cross?” asks Daughter. “Nah” I reply “he’ll be grateful!” while thinking: he’ll either be extremely happy or extremely angry. Let’s hope it’s the former.

Now Daughter sets about the clearance task with scientific methodology. She goes online and orders a load of cardboard removal boxes in various sizes – to be delivered the next day. You’d think we’re moving house – she must think we are storing an awful lot of stuff we don’t need. She’s right!

We begin! Heaven knows what OH will say when he comes home.

. . .  to be continued  . . .usually posted on Thursday

[sadler]

 Wow. Would have loved to be there with you Arty. I am an extreme minimalist. If it isn't being used, it goes straight to the charity shop. Burnt my fingures today though. Searched high and low for the travel iron to take to NZ. Can't find it anywhere. No good looking in the loft, only 2 suit cases in there. All the cupboards are tidy with hardly anything in. Just nipping to Argos to buy another one!   

[ArtyMar]

Sadler, is your OH of the same mind i.e. minimalist? If so, lucky you! Your house must be a dream - and so easy to clean. I have the wish to be minimalist but not always the willpower!

[sadler]

He didn't use to be Arty, but I have worn him down! As he is the one who does the trips to the charity shops or the dump, he tries to keep those to a minimum now. I get very claustrophobic if there is "clutter" around. I hate shopping too, so consider him a very lucky man!