I'm still alive...

I thought I should probably do an update for posterity, since I don't keep a diary any more and have the memory of a lobotomised earthworm.

I'm currently staying at my mum's again, waiting for her to be allowed home from hospital after stomach untwisting operation no:2. She went in on Saturday 12th when her vomitting recurred and she noticed there was blood in it. I travelled up on the Monday.

She's doing well, determined as usual and way stronger than me, but is stuck there for the moment because the hospital is a frigging mess. I think/hope the surgeons are more competent than the general adminstration, ward staff and I am making excuses for the nursing staff who I assume are under pressure and understaffed - but really. She had the op last Tuesday and the day after they were encouraging her to eat solid food. She's had two tubes stuck in her stomach, not for feeding, as the one doctor I've been able to speak to assured me, and he said (on Thursday? Friday?) but they are in 'for a while' so she can't come home until they know she's comfortable with cleaning them twice a day. So we knew all this on whatever day that was, and the next day the tube nurse came to show Mum what to do. She left a bundle of instructions and a syringe which is used in the process, and said she'd be back the next day. So this brings us to the weekend - Laura of the Tubes failed to return and still hasn't made her reappearance. The instructions etc were helpfully tidied away by someone so Mum couldn't find them and nobody else could find them either, if any of them bothered looking, which I doubt, since a Nurse called Binky (I know, you can't make this up) came to see Mum demonstrate her cleaning abilities and found the stuff in the back of the locker by Mum's bed.

Out of reach of a patient who's had a stomach operation and can't bend over.

On Sunday morning a nurse read Mum's notes and told her she wasn't supposed to be on solids, all her food should be pureed. I mean. This is what, 3-4 days after the op, and nobody had bothered to check this before? Luckily eating normally doesn't seem to have caused any problems but it might have, right?

So she's not allowed home until she's learned to do this cleaning thing, plus she also needs to be assessed by the physio, Since the junior doc told me this last week, and it's in the hospital's interest to free up her bed, you'd have thought they'd have got that phsyio down there asap. If not at the weekend then Monday, right? Wrong - no phsyio has materialised yet.

It's just such terrible communucation amongst themselves, let alone with their patient, and so ridiculously incompetent. Could this bunch organise a piss up in a brewery? I have my doubts.

Ugh I knew if I started cataloguing this it would turn into a rant but.

So there's all this, but on top of it is the fact the hospital is technically still locked down with covid measures. I say technically because the main building where Mum is now has a reception, but the doors are open and you can just walk in unchallenged. Which is just as well, since the ward she's on has a telephone extension but nobody to answer the damn phone, so unless you turn up at the ward door in person, you have zero change of finding out what the hell is going on. I got to speak to a nice nurse on Saturday who was very informative, and as a bonus popped Mum into a wheel chair and brought her out of the ward so I could speak to her face to face - and she could see out of a window for the first time since she was admitted.

Today I went one better because my Mum's neighbour gave me a lift there, which meant I had to go when she was ready, which meant I arrived at the ward door just before lunch. It was pretty chaotic and noone had time to take Mum's bag of stuff I'd brought, so when another woman arrived with a visitor bag and just walked straight into the ward, I decided to follow suit. Found Mum out of bed, had a bit of a quick conversation and grabbed this photo to show the family she's doing ok.

Bag with new book to read, puzzle pages from the paper and a fleecy blanket because she'd been complaining her feet were cold.
I bloody hope they sort themselves out so she can come home soon. I know it sounds selfish but I need her sorted and settled because I have to get home myself to paint a giant duck and a big flower bee sculpture...