On the mend
Been too knackered to blog, but all’s quiet at the mo with M in bed, L asleep on my knee giving me a dead leg (LOL!) and A at work. Thanks everyone for your supportive comments - really appreciate them!
My mum had her op on Friday afternoon in the end. Then on Saturday it got more and more painful as her leg swelled up inside the cast, so late Saturday night they had to slit the cast to let the pressure off. I don’t think my mum is getting much rest in the hospital what with the pain, the other patients and the staff. We went to visit her again yesterday and sorted her out with more clothes and some snacks. I worry about her being so vulnerable in hospital - it’s everyone for themselves, there is no concept of “care” there. The staff are overstretched, the food situation sounds completely random and then my mum and her next-bed neighbour (at least they help each other) made a complaint about 2 night staff mistreating a couple of the elderly patients and so were ignored by them completely the next night.
All over the hospital they are advertising their wonderful “stay in touch” system of contacting family while you are in, with your own TV/phone/internet by your bed on a pay per day basis. It would be great if they’d actually installed it. So far its a few screens and alot of wires poking out of the ceiling. And in the meantime their isn’t even one of those wheely phones on a trolley they can take round the beds. Can you tell it’s frustrating trying to find out how she is? If I phone they just tell me, “she’s fine.” Today Mum was supposed to be having her cast redone and learning to use crutches.
We haven’t done much over the weekend other than going to see my Mum and sorting things out at her house. I was feeling awful with a bad cold (nothing anywhere close to Joyce’s scale of doing things, so can’t complain too much) and A took M out to Musical Theatre and dancing class. I think I’ve passed it on to L now because he’s got a cough and a dripping nose today.
Today A finished packing up our spare bedroom and taking apart the wardrobe in there. He’s worked really hard getting it all boxed up. Downstairs M and I started world war 3 over his attitude to being asked to do anything vaguely educational and the s word was used in anger. I had a hissy fit at A, who then did the serious father son talk thing. It went along the lines of us having to provide an education, what we think is appropriate for him now he is 7 and how there are some things we want him to just get on with in the mornings because mornings are busy and getting stuff done then leaves plenty of time to go out and do lots of other things in the afternoon. If he doesn’t want to then he can choose school instead, though we don’t want him to go to school. I’m sick of him dragging a few sums over an hour and whingeing. He can have as much imput as he likes over what he wants to learn about (other than maths and English) but for things he’s doing in the morning he needs to give us enough notice to sort things out for him. I want to have a kind of short but focussed (Charlotte Mason-like) time in the mornings that’s planned in advance for ease, with scope to do most things he fancies on a more spur-of-the-moment basis in the afternoons. No routine means nothing happens and it drives me completely nuts and M moans, so he’s not happy with no structure either.
After lunch A went for a run but before he went he told M he wanted him to get his Christmas thank you letters finished. It went down badly (”you said I can do what I want in the afternoons”) and after writing one letter (of 2 sentences) in about 5 mins before A went, M began a strop that must’ve lasted about 25 mins while A was out. Eventually he caved in and wrote the other 2 so they were done before Daddy got back. He can’t seem to see if he’d done that first off he’d have had another 30 mins game playing time.
Other than arguing, M’s been to his swimming lesson, we’ve had tea and M’s played on the computer and then it was bedtime.
