Day #52 > MONDAY 14th DECEMBER
Chatty with Lia first thing – she’s flying Crete>Athens>Luton today so bitter/sweet as she’s leaving her Mum but en-route to seeing her boy & grand boys, along with the rest of the family back in Blighty.
Then downstairs, I discover Mum doing the laundry – no collar naturally – she confirms it’s the first time for ages, so she’s upbeat & happy. I pour her a coffee before brewing myself a proper one & we chat freely; she’s a little forgetful but seems happy this morning – & I’ll take that any day. Bob pops his head round the corner & tells Susan to sign a piece of paper he’s just typed/printed. She does, but confirms she has no idea what it’s for & then they both get ready to go out. I have a gut feeling that it was something legal about financials, but it’s not my place so I give that feeling of resentment to the Lord & continue with my day.
She bids me farewell – without her collar on. I sigh to myself then went & found her collar in her en-suite & took it out to them – luckily I caught them just as they were driving off – I had to bang on the back of the car to get Bob to stop.
He wound down his window & I just held the collar out for him. Mum volunteered that Bob had just asked her where it was – yeah yeah, maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, but my money’s on him not bothering as per normal.
‘She said she doesn’t need it.’ Came Bob’s reply. Again. Oh that repetitive passing the buck reply. ‘Well she does Bob, & you should be ensuring that she wears it.’ I reply firmly, positioned with my mouth inches from his ear through the car window. ‘Mum, shall I come round & pop it on for you?’ She agrees, I do, we touch upon Bob & her being a team caring for each other & I hug her goodbye.
Why oh why can he simply not ensure she’s safe. He knows he needs to. He even asks her, but he’s unable to follow it up. I’m truly at a loss here. He wouldn’t let her go out without shoes on, so why not the collar? Is it that he simply doesn’t want her to be safe?
I walk in the house to find my phone ringing – it’s Addenbrookes & I just catch it – phew – only been waiting for this call for five months! My neck had starting aching earlier in the year & – perhaps more worryingly – my legs felt a bit more disjointed; harder to walk with more resistance – & I was concerned & had an MRI back in July & this was the follow-up. In December. Ahem. However, Mr Timofeev the elusive Neurosurgeon tells me that my MRI is absolutely fine & I should expect fluctuations in movement from time-to-time, but the MRI is actually better than the previous one, including C5-6, which was a weak point to keep an eye on. There’s no need to take anything further he says, as issues are all resulting from your existing nerve damage rather than new or on the horizon. He confirms that I did the right thing, & if I notice any changes in the future that it’s no problem to get a scan to check what’s happening. I thank him, feeling reassured that I’m not falling to bits . . .
I round out the morning with a string of Emails & messages – well, it’s raining outside so will go for a walk this afternoon.
1.00pm comes around & I do indeed get to speak with Dr. Lyle; I recall that when we’d spoke he’d suggested that if Bob said he didn’t need help then Mum & I would get started on arranging the necessary help in the house & present it to Bob in due course – & of course if he accepted help then we’d all be puling together – but Bob actually came back & said I could test him for alcohol anytime & if he was sober then I must leave. Leave within two weeks as they want to spend Christmas alone, & if not he will speak with his lawyers as I’m not welcome in the house. Dr Lyle did not comment on this specifically – confidentially clause or avoiding the issue? – but said that it’s his word against her word & Mum’s caught up in the middle. I agreed, but pointed out the issue was there before I arrived & now it’s not, along with Bob only having an issue with me & never once showing any concern for Mum’s well-being, only his own. Doc agreed that he was on my side regarding Mum’s well-being, & suggested the only way forward was for all of us to be in the same room together to discuss.
Hallelujah!
‘I’ve been suggesting this since I first got here!’ I said, so the doc & I worked out that I’d detail the docs thoughts to both Bob & Mum, & if Bob didn’t play ball then suggest Bob call the doc to discuss & ultimately to detail all on MyChart so the doc can see the results & act accordingly. Phew. Ball rolling again . . .
All of us in the same room is perfect. We call all share our own testimonies & show what we’re made of & where we’re coming from – especially what we’d like to happen & what we’ve done to make it so. Bring it on doctor!
I spend the afternoon bumming round really – a bit of stuff downstairs, including donning my Garden Police hat & removing the rake from Mum’s hands & handing out the appropriate fine etc., but all good. Actually, I spot Mum in the garden from the den, where Bob’s watching his tablet & TV, so I point Mum out to Bob & say: ‘Bob, Mum’s out there raking!’ He replies that he hasn’t noticed. I confirm she’s raking. He confirms she’s raking. I up the anté: ‘Bob, she’s raking, would you like me to stop her?’ There – let’s put this on Bob’s shoulders shall we. He shrugs. I repeat the question & finally he says ‘yes!’ So I do, I stop the rogue raker in her tracks . . .
5.15pm sees our weekly video chat with Jane – what a corker. Jane probes what happened after our individual doctors visits last week; I start to tip-toe around all as it’s a little delicate around here but Mum absolutely insists that nothing’s hidden from her so, well, I confirm that Bob’s suggested I stay here permanently on Saturday, but on Sunday Mum had asked me to go as Bob wasn’t happy but 30 minutes later actually wanted to come to the UK with me, so because of all this to-ing & fro-ing I’m simply trying to arrange some care here but have spoken to the docs today & he’s suggested we all meet together – AND WOULD YOU DO THAT MUM? WOULD YOU DO THAT BOB?
Well, both couldn’t really decline could they, so live on Messenger Jane witnessed us all agreeing to visit the docs together. ‘Why haven’t you done this before?’ She rightly enquired. I said I’d suggested it from Day One, but it hadn’t happened – & for some reason spared Bob’s blushes but not mentioning that initially he’d said that he categorically wouldn’t discuss his relationship with Mum with the doctor with me present. So, we have progress. Hoorah!
Bob leaves the chat in a mood – we can actually feel it. Sure enough, there’s lots of huffing & puffing from the kitchen whilst he heats up the Spaghetti Almost-Bolognese leftovers that we’ll endure for dinner. ‘It’d be nice if someone else would cook’ echoed in the air loud ’n’ clear, poor ole Bob, he simply couldn’t keep his feelings in & had to vent that he wasn’t a happy chappy
During dinner I offered an olive branch: ‘Bob, you’ve been struggling today – we’ve all felt it – so what can I do to help?’ A serious of grunts, shoulder shakes & pulled faces followed – you wouldn’ve thought he had French ancestry – so I asked again, slightly clearer: ‘Bob, what can I do to help you? No side, no angle, but simply what can I do to make life easier for you?’
This seemed to get through: ‘Well, you could do the cooking for a week. And the house needs cleaning . . .’ came the reply loud & clear. Oh, Bob needs a breather, as it seems the cooking & cleaning is taking its toll -even though every other day is leftovers, he doesn’t do lunch at all & the house is filthy. ‘Ok Bob, I’ll do dinners for a week, of course I will, & always say if there’s anything I can do, because contrary to what you may believe I don’t want to step on your toes as it’s clear to see the kitchen is your domain & you’re very protective of it’
He seems confused as to whether he’s just received a compliment or a criticism, so I nip it in the bud & simply turn the conversation to Mum, so we chatty-chatter for the remainder of ‘dinner’.
Jeopardy, bed. Done