independence

I've been pretty exhausted this past week, struggling to integrate into my new job, so I'm afraid I've taken advantage of Mum having forgotten me, and I've not called her for fear of getting embroiled in one of her tornadoes, where I'm swept up in a huge twister of half-truths, fabrications and emotion only to settle down a few days later in exactly the same place and with nothing achieved.

But I have been checking up on Mum by phoning the Warden. Today he told me that he arrived at 9 this morning only to find that Mum had called his office phone several times in the early hours. Before he could investigate, a Taxi turned up and the Driver informed him that he'd taken an early call to take Mum to the local Hospital A&E (ER). The Warden accompanied the Driver down the corridor to Mum's apartment in order to find out what was wrong. Mum told him that she'd injured her toe. He asked Mum to humour him and take off her shoe, and she revealed a perfectly normal foot with no apparent injury or inflammation. It turned out that one of her toenails had grown a little long and was rubbing against the side of her shoe. Hardly a candidate for the Casualty Department. Mum's chiropodist was in the building today, so the Warden arranged for Mum to have her toenails clipped and all was right again.

My point in recording this is that Mum is independent enough to sort herself out after a fashion and arrange things (even if it's mostly the wrong thing). I'm now looking to find a new home for her that is a bit more than just a room in a house, but maybe a small apartment or bungalow within a complex, just to give her that sense of independence, even though she'd be leaning on the support available to a greater and greater extent as time passed.