dates

"I've just checked and my car tax has expired."
Typically, Mum sounds thrilled at the drama. Meanwhile, my heart plummets.
"Really, Mum? I usually remind you in advance, so I'm not sure it's due for renewal."
I check my organiser and there's nothing for Mum's tax disc anywhere. Oh no! This is my fault! I panic.
"Yes, the date on it is the 7th August," she says.

I groan, because I know that it will take DAYS for me to organise Mum to find her M.O.T. and Insurance information, with her reading every random scrap of paper in her flat out to me over the phone because she cannot discriminate between any random letter and the relevant documents. This is going to be agony.
"I'll go out and check again," she volunteers.
"Okay," I answer, playing for time.

While I wait, I remember that the renewal date is held on my "MUM" spreadsheet. I open this to find that she has the same renewal date as me (the last day of August). She shouldn't be out of date at all.

Mum rings again.
"Yes, it's the 7th of August alright. It says 31.08.07"

It seems that Mum's dates have gone the way of money and all the other things she has lost the ability to judge.

verdict

D&G, my Aunt and Uncle, have returned from their visit. D is on the phone in the taxi before they've even reached their house.
"Your Mum needs to go into a home."

My heart sinks. Mum would be very upset if I even broached the possibility. "I suppose you want to put me in a home, now!" is her favourite stick to beat me with when we have a confrontation.

I don't know how to go about this. How to persuade Mum.
I don't know if her finances can stretch far enough.

I feel overwhelmed.

ten commandments

"Hi. I've just spoken to D [the Warden] and the guest room is free that weekend!"
"... What weekend? ... For whom?"
Mum hesitates as it dawns on her that maybe she's screwed up again.
"Well for D & G, of course. I've just checked and the room will be free for them"
D & G are my Aunt and Uncle. Mum sounds proud of herself for sorting this out on her own.
"Mum.... I booked it about two months ago for them, and they're not coming for a weekend but for a Thursday night!"
"Oh" [befuddled]
"Mum, it's already organised. You don't have to do anything."

After two weeks of daily calls about my Brother-in-Law's visit and the non-availability of the room for him, we've now switched back to this visit. Happy Days.

What I need is a large LCD screen hanging on Mum's wall which I can update remotely with our version of the Ten Commandments. Seven come to mind off the top of my head:

1. Eat 3 meals today and walk your dog
2. ALL your bills are already paid AUTOMATICALLY - do not send off any cheques
3. Do not sign up for a Direct Debit without talking to me
4. Use the health supplements you've already bought before spending £300 on a new batch
5. You've given away a lifetime's amount of money to charity - you will need charity yourself if you give away any more
6. Do not phone people before 9 am
7. If guests are coming, the arrangements have already been made by me. You don't need to do anything.

I'm sure the rest will come to me.

groundhog

This must be the fifth morning in a row that I've been woken up by Mum wanting me to relay a message to my Brother-in-Law that the guest accommodation at her place is unavailable. Each morning I have to tell her that I know and that he and the family have booked a hotel in Hickstead, nearby.
"Hickstead?!!" Mum screeches with incredulity. This is news to her.

We will have the same exchange at least twice more today, if today plays out like the others.

clues

I call Mum to relate an email I've received from my Brother-In-Law about his imminent visit. I can sense Mum's attempt to hide her panic on the other end of the phone, so I'm careful to remind her that he will not reach her until Friday, and that he and his daughters will not be staying with her but in a hotel and merely visiting her.
I also tell her that my cold is still pretty bad and my throat is sore.
"Oh dear, you've had that cold for AGES, haven't you?"
"No Mum, it began yesterday, I told you I was coming down with it yesterday."
"So when are you coming down?"

I've come to a theory about Mum's memory problems. I believe she copes by responding to clues in the sentences spoken to her. Thus because I said that my cold was STILL bad, Mum ventured that I'd had it for ages. Because I used the expression "coming down" with regard to the cold, Mum's attention flicked to asking when I was coming to visit her.

"Mum, I've told you several times when I'm coming down. There's no point in me telling you again, as you'll only get confused. Why don't you focus on your next visitors [B-In-Law and girls]?"
I get her to write down that they are visiting on Friday, as she has already forgotten. We end the call.

A couple of minutes later, the phone rings. Mum has an amused tone she uses only when she is trying to show how competent she still is.
"I just thought I'd say that you'd better be careful when you arrive tomorrow, as [the dog] will be all over you!"
"Mum, I'm not coming down tomorrow."
"Oh.... well the day after, then."


ADDENDUM: I had a further call in the afternoon where Mum announced that she'd bought some food ready for my arrival tomorrow...

mothering

Mum rings me to tell me that tornadoes are heading her way according to the local news. She seems unconcerned. She says she's had a good day.
"Well, I've had a rotten day"
There is a long silence.
"Oh well, I suppose I'll be off then" she says.
"Mother!"
"Yes?"
"I just said I've had a bad day! Are you going to ask me about it or respond in any way?"
A shorter pause. She chuckles.
"Yes, I suppose."
I get to list the problems I've dealt with today. There's no reaction or sympathy to anything. I don't think she understands a word I'm saying. Perhaps if I was a newsreader on her TV I could reach her.

I can't begin to describe my morning

Another early wake-up phone call. Too much to process here. Cutting through the half-truths and inventions has taken me two hours. In the process I've brought down a whole edifice of un-truth concerning a local cab company, an edifice that Mum has been building all year. I'm beginning to wonder if it might make life easier for us both if I refrain from pointing out her inconsistencies, try not to listen to the detail and simply 'read between the lines' to what's behind it all - her unhappiness with this or that arrangement. Sometimes, though, what she says alarms me and I urgently need to get to the bottom of it. That's when it becomes frustrating talking to someone who contradicts herself in adjoining sentences. Outrageously so.

memory slips real and useful

6:00pm on Sunday evening. I call Mum to see how she’s doing.

“Fine. I’m just on my way out to the shops, actually. Can I call you back later?”
“Mum, it’s Sunday. The shops will have shut a couple of hours ago.”
She takes the news well, and I enquire as to what she has in the freezer that she can eat tonight. As I do every day, I ask if she’s been out for a walk with the dog.
“Oh, yes! I was out for about an hour and a half with her.”
“When was that?”
“Oh, I went out about 5:30 with her”
I let it pass. Talk switches to my Aunt and Uncle visiting in August.
“G’s adamant that he’s coming down on the train, which means I’ll have to drive to the station to pick them up, and it means I’ll have to drive them to the… to the…the…Brasserie”
I’m pleased that Mum has at last taken it on-board that they will not have their car with them. It’s only taken 4 reminders from me, and maybe a couple more from my Aunt and Uncle. I think about it for a while and start to suspect “G was adamant” means that this time she ‘conveniently forgot’ and was trying to persuade them. I ring my Uncle, to check, and it seems she rang them excited that she’d bought them a parking permit at the flats (guest permits are actually free). He tells me that she tried several other ways to manipulate them into changing their plans.
This is the first time I’ve noticed Mum using her memory problems in a mischievous way. I'll have to look out for this in future.

Incidentally, Mum had no memory of calling my Aunt on Friday about the 'change of plans' and unavailability of the guest accommodation.

conversations that never happened

This morning I received a call from my Aunt. She and my Uncle are visiting Mum next month. I had made the arrangements for them about 6 weeks ago, booking them the guest accommodation at the flats where Mum lives. Apparently, Mum rang them around 8am this morning telling them that since they had changed their dates the accommodation was already booked out.

Naturally, this was confusing for them, since they haven't changed their plans at all.

I hadn't wanted to bother them at the time, but I had to correct Mum a fortnight ago, when she mentioned this visit and started telling me about several excursions she was looking forward to when they're with her, about the restaurants they'd take her to, and so on. I had to remind her that they're only there for one night and that since they are travelling down by train there would be no galavanting about the countryside.

Now, forgetting the details of a visit is one thing, but this morning's incident concerns me, since it involves at least 2 conversations that didn't take place in the real world: one where my relatives changed the dates of their stay and one where the Warden told her that their 'new dates' were unavailable.

see-saw

This morning I was woken by a call from Mum. As I was croaking 'Hello' she angrily launched into an obviously rehearsed speech about my not allowing her to have her bath replaced by a shower cubicle. She sounded very worked up. She'd been up all night thinking about this.

Only, of course, I've said no such thing. In fact I've been suggesting the shower idea for about 2 years now. She always scotched the idea until her neighbours had the work done a couple of weeks ago. Now, it seems, she's all for it. Last week I phoned the builder who did the work next door and asked him for an estimate. I relayed the news to Mum that he can't fit her in before October. I suggested getting another guy in who might be able to work sooner, but she wouldn't have it. She was happy to wait.

Four days on, this has somehow twisted into me refusing to allow her the shower cubicle. She has entirely made up a whole conversation and it worries me that in her fantasy I play the role of the bad guy. It doesn't augur well.

We fell to talking about how she's going to fund this project. She announced that she had an account containing a figure over £117,000. I told her that this was unlikely, given that her total savings last year came to less than half this figure. She attempted to read out her bank balances, but couldn't read the same number twice without adding decimal places. When she read the bank sort-code as a balance, I told her to put the account information away until I could come visit.

Tonight she just rang up again to say: "Well, it seems that I'm bankrupt!"

the lights are off but somebody's home

"I turned the bathroom light on and suddenly all the lights went out!"

[this happens every few weeks - the wiring in the apartment is abysmal - and every time is like the first]

"Not again! Did you flip the trip-switch back up?"
"Yes, I did that and it all came on again."
"Ah, that's good. I'm glad you've learned that you can fix it on your own."
"Oh yes. I did it all by myself..... But....the kettle was off, the fridge was off, all the lights in the flat were off. I couldn't get the television to work..."
"Of course, Mum, but at least you knew you only had to flick the trip-switch to get them all back, didn't you?"
"Well, I went and got D [the Warden], and he showed it to me, and turned it back on for me."
"Ah... I thought you did it yourself."
"No... And do you know, even the washing machine stopped!"
"Well, of course, Mum. If a light blows, the trip switch acts like a fuse and stops everything working. But you only have to open the cupboard and flick the switch up again. It's very simple. I'd hate for this to happen at the weekend or an evening, when D isn't working. You should know how to fix it yourself by now."
"Well, yes, I told D how I'd remembered how to fix it and how I'd flicked up the switch. He was really quite impressed with me, I think."

".....?!!?"

[choose the true version of events from those above for tonight's star prize]

m.o.t.

"Hi Mum, I'm ringing because I've got a note here reminding me that your MOT runs out in 5 days."
[laboured breathing]
"Mum, it's alright, calm down.. there's nothing to panic about."
"I've renewed it already... I've done it a couple of times over the past few years"
"Mum.. we need to renew it EVERY year. I always ring to remind you and help you through it. Now we need to find your MOT certificate from last year. It's in your desk, in the folder that has all your car stuff in it - your insurance, your license, your tax... Can you find that for me, and give me a call back when you've got it out?"

I wait for about 5 minutes. When I try to call again, Mum's phone is engaged

A minute later I try again:
"Hi Mum... Have you found the documents yet?"
"No."
"I tried a minute ago and you were engaged."
"Yes, er....I rang the garage."
"Why did you do that?"
"I wanted to know... to tell them that I... needed... did they have all my.."
"Mum, I just wanted you to find your MOT certificate."
"Oh! I'll have to open the drawer in my desk"
"Well, you said you were going to do that 5 minutes ago and you didn't - you rang the garage instead! Can you please go and get the car stuff out of the desk and ring me back"

Meantime, I ring the garage to learn that Mum rang in a very confused state, talking about her insurance. As usual, she was handed over to "Cheryl", who is the "Mum" specialist. Cheryl was on the phone and would ring me back. I decided to check on Mum.

"Hello?"
"Hi, Mum. Have you found the car documents in the desk?"
"Yes, and I've found the [reads].....DVLA... er... Government Department...."
"Mum, do you know what you're looking for?"
"My license?.....er.....My insurance?"
"No, Mum, your MOT certificate..."
"Well, I'd better put the phone down [click]"

repeat last exchange two more times and then give up...

This one ended with Mum's preferred coup-de-grace these days: "I suppose you want to put me in a home!" This is her last resort since the big fight with P last month. I find it extremely upsetting when she accuses me of this, given the amount of time I have to take (whole days) to sort out things for her over the phone whenever she gets into scrapes. I keep telling her that I'm taking on all this so that she can keep living as she wants to, but she still chooses to slice into me with that accusation. If that's the way she feels, maybe I should stop wasting my time, stop caring and go travelling.

dognap

Mum's been down in Somerset with P and her husband and, of course, the dog. Yesterday, P took it upon herself to confront Mum about her shortcomings and announced that she was going to keep the dog. It erupted into a major row in which P ratted on the Warden and on Mum's neighbours, who apparently had taken P aside and voiced concerns that the dog shouldn't be allowed back into the flats. I had two calls from Mum, locked in her bedroom crying, and another from P. I rather felt like a parent dealing with two schoolgirls who'd had a fight. Anyway, I told P that she'd have to let the dog return with Mum today and I managed to convince Mum that P had acted out of friendly concern and suggested that it must have been very scary for her to broach the subject. I've also said that I'll go down to visit soon, to assess the situation for myself.

letter to Mum's GP

Dear Doctor S

I am writing to you because I am concerned about my Mother who is a patient at your surgery. I have been aware for some years that Mum is experiencing increasing problems coping with things, and I have done my best to intervene or come up with solutions, though it is sometimes hard to do so from Yorkshire! As she can present as quite bright on occasion, and seems blissfully unaware of the chaos she often causes, I am writing to you to inform you about her, and to ask for some advice as to how we should proceed.

The problems, as I see it are the following:

1) Short-term memory loss. Mum gets things turned around in her head within the same conversation, and often remembers precisely the opposite of what she has been told. She is often unaware of the day of the week or the time. She is very poor with figures, unable to do basic arithmetic or tell sometimes which number of two is the greater. She is extremely vulnerable to suggestion, and is wont to respond to junk mail as if it is obligatory – signing up for new insurance when already insured or sending off thousands of pounds to charity. She has handed me bank statements in the past, believing them to be bills.

2) Loss of abilities. I have recently had to replace the cordless telephone that Mum had been using for 7 years with a simpler one, since she could no longer understand how to work it. She no longer understands her oven, and the Warden at her apartments found all her electric hobs turned up to high yesterday, with items stacked on them. He is quite concerned about her, too. Some friends of hers have taken her dog to live with them, since it was defecating inside the flat.

3) Physical frailty. Mum is quite stooped now, and walks with a shuffling gait, with her back twisted to one side. She has fallen over in the High Street a few times, and uses her shopping trolley rather like a Zimmer-frame for support.

4) Food. I have instigated deliveries from Wiltshire and Sussex Farm Foods, since I was worried that Mum wasn’t feeding herself at all well. Whenever I do visit, I find severely out-of-date items in her fridge. If we shop together, Mum follows me around the supermarket choosing whatever I choose. She appears bewildered by the displays and possibly unable to tell what things are.

I have plenty of anecdotes to back up what I have briefly covered above, but I’ll spare you the grim details for now. I was hoping that maybe you could advise me on how to go about having Mum assessed by Social Services for any support you can think of. It’s my belief that Mum would benefit from someone calling on her a few times a week, and perhaps helping her to shop. If there is any medication that Mum could also take to improve her faculties or slow down her deterioration, that would also be most welcome.

Please could I ask you to treat my letter with confidence as far as my Mother is concerned? She would be most upset to know that I have sent this to you. If you would prefer to talk to me, my telephone number is ............
Thank you for your kind attention.

Yours most sincerely

heat

Mum rang me thrilled to have spoken with my brother-in-law, though she couldn't remember a single detail from the conversation she had just had.

The Warden tells me that she's told everyone who will listen at the flats about the 'mystery empty box' delivery, apparently. I rang her, after talking to him this morning, to remind her that we'd solved the mystery on Sunday: that she'd emptied the box herself on Saturday and then forgotten about it. She reacted completely shocked, as if it was all news to her.

The Warden rang me because he was very concerned to find all four of Mum's electric hobs turned up to full, with pans and other items stacked on them. He's worried that she's a fire risk. I've decided I must now get around to writing to her Doctors to initiate some sort of assessment process.

empty box

I had spoken to Mum during the week and warned her that I couldn't afford much this Mothers' Day but that I would be sending something small.

Yesterday, I got an excited phone-call.

"I went out to the shops and when I came back, I found two packages outside my door. The flowers have come and THANK YOU, they're BEAUTIFUL!"
"Mum, I'm sorry, but they must be from your son-in-law. I didn't send you flowers"
"Oh..." [sounds of consternation]
"Was there a card with the flowers?"
"Yes, but I didn't open it"
"Well why are you thanking me for them?"
"I just assumed"
"You said there were two packages?"
"Yes"
"Well the other one is probably the one from me. Why don't you leave it until tomorrow to open?"
"Okay"


Today, the phone rang again.

"Hello Mum. Happy Mother's Day"
"My washing machine has broken, so I rang...... etc"

There followed a long conversation discussing the situation regarding the washing machine, the fact that the water was shut off yesterday (when she used it) and my patient explanation as to how that could be the problem. I added my standard request "Please Please Please call ME before calling any company", which will naturally be ignored as usual.

"So, anyway, Mum. I said 'Happy Mother's Day' "
"Yes, well I thanked you yesterday for that"
"No, Mum, you thanked me for the flowers - but they weren't from me"
"No, they were from your brother-in-law. They are beautiful. But you know something odd? The box that came with them was empty!"
"What?"
"Yes, well I opened it this morning and there was nothing inside it"
"Oh No!"

So I got her to describe the box to me, reading out all the details on it's surface. This took several attempts, each one with a protestation that she'd already told me everything, and each revealing more details. I was trying to establish if this was some extra part of my brother-in-law's present, or if it was mine. I pointed out that the box was most likely MY gift.

"No, I got chocolates from you"
[gasp] "Right... yes... so, 'Happy Mother's Day' then"
"So I wonder what happened to whatever was inside this box!"
"Mum, I said 'Happy Mother's Day'. Are you going to thank me for the chocolates?"
"No, well I did that yesterday"
"No.... you didn't. You thanked me for the flowers, which weren't from me"
"Oh!" [consternation]

This is where I began to see the solution. I suggested to Mum that she'd opened the box yesterday, taken out the chocolates, and then opened the box again this morning to find it empty. After all, the chocolates must have come in SOMETHING, and how did she know that they were from me? Mum found this offensive and got angry with me. Mother's Day was turning out to be REALLY worth it! I ended the call with a rather forced repeat of "Happy Mother's Day!"

I got up and decided to check my order receipt from Thorntons. As anticipated, the order number matched the one printed on the mystery box. So my scenario had been correct. Moments later, the phone rang. Mum sounded like she'd proved something.

"I found this card on the display unit... it says 'Happy Mother's Day, Love G' "

I'm learning to accept a silent victory when Mum proves my point for me, even though she has no idea she's doing it...

number

The phone rings:

[Mum's croaky scared voice] "I've got a bit of a problem"
"What's that then?"
"I want to tell someone my phone number... but I... can you tell me what my phone number is?"
"Okay, have you got a pen there?"
"Just a moment... okay"
"Right, it's.... [I slowly list the numbers of her phone number]"
"Okay, now let's see what I've got in this book"
[looks in her address book]
"I've got ..... [she reads out MY phone number]"
"Mum, that's MY number"
"Oh" [stunned]
"Did someone ask you for my number?"
"No"
"Well, you've just read out my number"
[exasperated] "Well, I want to GIVE people your number"
"No, Mum, you've just rung me to find out your own number. You've just written it down"
[incomprehension]
"Mum, who did you want to tell your number to?"
"Sheila and Don. They ring me all the time, you know"
"Why don't they have your number already, then?"
"Because it's changed, hasn't it?"

[this is the point I realise that Mum thinks her number has changed because I've replaced her telephone with a simpler model]

phone

Mum's friend P and I have been on the phone a lot today with me as a go-between after P became concerned that Mum was incapacitated some way. Mum's lost the knack of using her answer machine recently, but today she seemed to forget how to use the phone at all. I had to call Careline, who operate Mum's emergency/entry-phone system, just to make sure she was okay. We eventually managed to talk her through using the telephone again, but I've gone and bought a old-style corded phone online for her which will arrive on Wednesday. I'm hoping that the Warden will help her set it up.

answer

I decide to leave a message on Mum's answer machine for a change.

This is something I would not normally do, since she is liable to call me up time after time for days, thinking that the message is new. In the past, I've had to ask the Warden to visit her and wipe the message from her machine.

This time, I'm hoping it'll work to my advantage. My message is that I want her to start the letter to my Sister that I've been asking her to write for the past 5 years or so, to explain why she's written her out of her Will. I say something like: "As you haven't got much on at the moment, I wonder if maybe you could get around to... etc".

After an hour or so, my phone rings once and then cuts out. I look and it was Mum calling - she doesn't seem to be able to use the phone without doing this at least once. A minute later, I get the call proper and I answer.

"You rang?"
"Oh, it's YOU!" she says, in some surprise.
"Mum, you rang ME"
"Well, the light was blinking"
"That's because there was a message for you. Did you listen to it?"
"No"
"So why did you ring me?"
"I dialled 1471 to get my message but all it gave was your number"
"Mum, do you know how to hear your messages?"
"Yes, I dial 1471!"
"No, Mum. That isn't anything to do with your machine, that's a BT service to tell you the number that last phoned you."
"Oh..."
"If you want to play your message, you have to press the play button on your machine. It looks like a triangle pointing to the right.... do you see it?"
"Yes, should I press it now?"
"No, it won't work while I'm talking to you on the phone. Wait until you've ended the call and try then"
"Okay"

I explain what the message was. She starts getting breathless, the sign these days that she's overloaded. I try and calm her down. She tells me that she doesn't want to write the letter. At first she says it's because she has "too much on these days". I probe this and find it's stuff like "shopping" and "doing the dishes". Next, she tells me that she tries not to write at all these days because she doesn't like her handwriting. I point out to her that she wrote over a hundred Christmas cards a two months ago (and it seemed like she told me a hundred times). She tries to wriggle further off the hook, saying that she has already told my Sister - no - my Brother-in-law - her reasons. I point out that she agreed to write this years ago and has twice promised her Solicitor, that she would do so. I tell her she doesn't need to finish it today, that she can make a start and add to it over the next few days. I offer to listen to the various drafts. I know she won't do it. I don't even think she knows why she doesn't want to do it. I suspect that she just dreads it because she knows that she's done a bad thing and doesn't want to face it. Nowadays she operates on gut reactions and then invents useful rationalisations to explain her decisions. I decide to leave it for now.. again. We end the call.

Five minutes later, my phone rings once and then rings again. I answer.

"Oh, it's YOU!" she exclaims.

battery

I think I need to stencil a message in foot-high letters all around Mum's flat which says, "Ring G BEFORE ringing any company". Every single time I only get to hear about these things afterwards:

3 guesses.... you got it! Yes, it's the car. Unused since last September it wouldn't start, so she called "Norwich Union" (who she always thinks is her insurer, despite having documents from "more than/Sun Alliance") and asked them to come out. They of course simply contacted the Volkswagen dealership, who took the car and replaced the battery (yes... again!). Coup de grace, Mum asked them to do "a service" on the car, which they were obviously delighted to do, having done one about 6 months ago and 4 months before that. I think the word "Service" is a scrap in her head she retains from when Dad was alive. If only she'd attach the word "annual" to it. Actually, that wouldn't help, what with her concept of time being so skewed.

I pointed out to her that we could have rung the dealership ourselves and not used the insurers. I reminded her that after she'd done this five times last year they actually told her that they wouldn't come out a sixth as she'd used up her quota. She made the usual noises which indicate that she has no memory of this and is tolerating me rather than challenging me on it.

I've spoken to the Warden. Turns out that he urged her to call me about it this morning, otherwise I would not have heard at all.

What is the point of me staying in this country if she doesn't use me and I just get the fallout rather than being able to help?