THIS afternoon my son and I head off to the hospital for a meeting with the social worker to establish exactly where things stand with James.
I have put on make-up and a nice dress, in a bid to look like the sort of person who wants some straight answers to some straight questions...
But I suspect I just look anxious and a bit fed up...
After waiting two weeks for a rehabilitation place at a dementia centre close to home, the ground was swept from under us two days ago by a last minute change of “the rules”.
So now we are told that James must either go into full time care, or he must come home, although I repeat that I cannot accept responsibility for him until I know exactly how he is after a month in bed.
“Can he walk?” I ask the Occupational Therapist who says James can at least shuffle, with support, using a Zimmer frame.
“And stairs?” I wonder. “Can he still climb stairs?”
The OT who is young enough to be my grandson, shakes his head and says “probably not” - but he hasn’t actually tried him out on any.
“You could always get a stair lift,” he says, immediately adding that of course it would have to be fitted at our expense.
“But would he be safe on one?” I ask, remembering my younger brother who had MS and most definitely wasn’t...
“I expect so,” says the OT - but until I have spent a couple of thousand pounds getting one fitted, how can any of us be sure?
We go round and round in circles until we finally agree that the Occupational Therapy team will do another home visit to see what can be done to help me.
But 48 hours later, it is once again all change.
James apparently can climb stairs, albeit not with the traditional agility of a mountain goat and only under close supervision...
... and he can be offered a rehabilitation bed, in a local hospital.
So even as I heave a sigh of relief at yet another U-turn I do have to wonder if it’s me...
Or if it’s them...
Your treatment by Soc Svcs makes me really cross. It mirrors our experience when my husband was in hospital. Completely untrustworthy, ill-informed and unimaginative. Heaven knows what sort of ‘training’ they receive. Decide what YOU want and stick to it, is my suggestion. I truly feel for you.
I do hope it works out. I imagine you must feel anxious though.