LET FREEDOM RING!

My 'week off' from posting was not planned.  I started to write but my blood was boiling.  I could not find a positive thought to write.  One would have thought that with my mother being moved to a 'negative' ward, in the hospital, things would have started to get better.  They did not.  Although I have complete admiration for the NHS and all their hard working, and dedicated staff, there are always the 'little foxes that spoil the vine'.  I think they were all on the ward where my mother (it would seem) was a less than welcome guest.  Staff had been asked to move her to a commode in order to gain mobility but she was not even being given a bed pan!  Hence, the boiling blood!  Her bedside table had been moved from her reach, and she was unable to reach her phone, which had, apparently, been 'turned off', and then she was being reprimanded for pressing the button. These were but a few incidents that occurred. There were many more, and most worrying. Hence, the boiling blood! Before I start, and get a barrage of insults and am told that 'old people are hard work', I get it!  I am not berating the whole profession, just those with whom she (and I) had the misfortune to encounter.  My mother can be difficult, at times, but she is an intelligent octogenarian, who lived through 'the blitz', endured food rationing and seven years of a world war which ended when she was thirteen.  A childhood I would not wish upon anyone.  A modicum of respect would not have gone amiss!  Whilst the country was celebrating the 75th anniversary of VE day, my mother was being stripped of her dignity.  However, as I said, I know it is not the majority, but the minuscule minority that make up the 'little foxes'.  Hence, the boiling blood! 

The week before all this took place, I could not have wanted a better Sunday afternoon.  Swimming was most enjoyable, and the company even better.  Dana decided to make an unscheduled, very early visit to the pool, and we swam a few laps before sitting in the sun and chatting to our next door neighbour and her best friend for the better part of an hour.  The weather was glorious and the world and 'its problem(s)' lapsed into the distance, just for a few hours.  No internet, no television, no media, no reminders.

The week leading up to the bank holiday, on both sides of the pond, was horrific for Elise and me.  On the Thursday, my mother started to give up.  She stopped eating.  However, despite the warnings that my mother was too weak to move, had an infection and was still considered a 'partial' risk for the dreaded lergy, the powers that be decided that she should be discharged on Friday afternoon.  She could not stand, let alone walk, she could not swallow, as her throat was very sore, and it took a call from me for a doctor to be consulted.  (Blood boiling!)  

She arrived home on Friday evening, and partook of part of a take-out that my sister had picked up.  By the evening, she had walked from her kitchen to the lounge, with stops, and was falling asleep in her favourite chair, watching her favourite soap opera.  She was alive and getting better by the hour. Despite her objection to complaints whilst still in the hospital, for fear of reprisal (and I am not exaggerating,) it was now time to take the people responsible to task. 

It was a glorious day on Saturday prior to Memorial Day.  Samantha and I went shopping, and went into the 'non-essential' stores that were open, and enjoyed the sensational sales that were occurring.  In the afternoon, I sat by the pool, and swam.  Several people arrived later, and whilst there were no more than ten, I was aware of the numbers, due to the current directives, and was ready to head upstairs, should someone else want to partake.  Of course, it would be reluctantly, but I did not want to be the cause of arguments, or perhaps legal wrangle .  Oh yes!  We have served our first law suit regarding the current lergy!  Sunday saw the same, but with less people, and I spent a long time reading and swimming.  Again, the world and 'its problem(s)' lapsed into the distance, just for a few hours.  I chatted to my neighbour, Jen, for more hours than I realised!  Normality!

Memorial Day was somewhat unusual.  By ten in the morning, I was calmer than I had been over the weekend.  My mother was now walking with a walking frame.  She was managing to walk from the bedroom to the kitchen, the kitchen to the lounge and back again, without stopping.  She was eating.  Her voice was stronger.  Her throat no longer hurt.  She was responding to conversation.  She was aware of current affairs.  She was on her way back.  I had slept for the first time in two weeks without waking to check my phone, without messaging my sister before dawn.  By ten in the morning, we would normally be at the airport or on the plane heading home after a weekend away, so my vacation would have been at an end.  It was not that we could not get away for the weekend, but we were not sure what would be open wherever we went. 

Our first stop was Buc-ees.  Samantha had taken the dogs to the office, where Dana had planned to spend a couple of hours, and we headed out of town, or as far out of town as I was going to go on this Memorial Day.  Buc-ees was quite busy.  The t-shirt that Samantha had driven out of town for, was on a stand in the middle of the store.  There were not awesome sales, as there was no need.  When it comes to Buc-ees, you either want it or you don't.  You will pay or you wont!  People were paying!

Across the road was a 'strip' mall.  We queued to get into 'Burlington'.  I promised myself I would not queue other than for Costco, where I queued as I arrived early and awaited opening.  I promised myself that I would not queue for admission to anywhere, as I did not need anything badly enough to queue.  However, times had changed (over the period of a month) and shops were now open, and businesses needed customers.  This queue was not for me to gain (although I was not going to turn down a bargain) but for me to support.  This was Memorial Day, and whilst it was wonderful to have a 'day off', its purpose is to 'memorialise' those who have fought for freedom.  I could not help thinking about the freedom I had, here and now, to stand in a queue, and be grateful to those who fought for that freedom.  Whilst we may not all agree on the logistics of the current circumstances, and whether we should isolate or not, whether we should wear masks or not, and whether we should stand seventy two inches apart, or not, and whether we believe that the isolation is for our safety and that it is a great idea, or whether we believe it is to keep us suppressed and causes more problems, I think we all agree that oppression is the enemy.  I was thankful for my freedom and thankful for those who were not here, anymore, to queue with me!

Having queued for a while to pay, we exited with plenty of bags.  Most people who were in pairs or more, started to queue when they entered the store, and took turns in walking up and down the aisles.  It was a good plan.  We headed across the parking lot to Ross Dress for Less.  My favourite shop was open!  Bargains were prolific!  My favourite brands at prices that defied gravity!  I was in my element.  I did give a thought for the store, having to discount at such steep rates, but an auction is still an auction!  Hopefully, everyone would be happy.

By the time we reached our last stop, the clouds had gathered, and although there had been a few drops of rain, nothing compared to what was coming.  We crossed giant puddles and stood in a very long line with a large umbrella covering us.  However, the rain was so heavy, it splattered up the back of my legs and soaked me up above my knees.  It did not stop until we were under the cover of the entrance.  Everyone was in good spirits.  Virtually as soon as we walked through the door did Samantha get into the queue.  An hour and a half later, we walked out of the shop!  The puddles had mostly dried up, and we headed home.  She dropped me and my abundance of bags at the door, and went to collect Edward.  We were going out for dinner.  "Celebrating anything?" asked the waiter.  "Yes!" I responded.  "A birthday, a couple of mothers' days, a promotion, and you being open!"  He looked at me with grateful eyes!

I wrote a letter on Tuesday to the Patients Liaison at the hospital and sent a copy to the Administrator, the Minister for Health, and my mother's local Member of Parliament.  When expressing a degree of frustration upon talking to a doctor's secretary, Elise was told to "put it in writing" as this was not the first complaint about the ward. I did not go swimming as the rain was still falling and it was a busy day.  We got home and we ate dinner.   It was an uneventful day.

What disappointed me most about the reply from the Hospital Administrator, was all the red tape that had to be 'cut through' before a complaint could make any headway.  Understandably, they asked for a form to be completed with my mother's signature.  However what was rather distressing was the request for various forms of identification, all of which had to be 'certified' if they were copies.  A passport?  Really? It made the whole complaints procedure somewhat of a farce.  "No wonder nothing gets done!" I told Dana when I read the list of requirements.  A name, date of birth, and hospital number should suffice, along with a signature giving them permission to look into it, although why they would need permission when a letter has been sent outlining the problem, is beyond me.  Ending a letter with "I await your response to this complaint", would surely indicate you would like the problem researched!  Was my blood boiling?  Obviously that was rhetorical!

I had to take Dana's car for a service on Thursday morning.  I promised I would do it as he said he did not have the time, and I had been expressing concern that it was overdue.  I arrived at the dealership on time, and was able to sit in the waiting area.  Several other customers were there.  We all watched with delight as a brand new vehicle, still 'wrapped' in its protection, was unveiled.  It is not often that I get mesmerised by a vehicle, but this car was beautiful.  "I have found my next car!" I told Dana and sent him a picture.  "It is low to the ground", he pointed out, knowing my dislike of such vehicles, normally.  "But it glides", I told him.  "It glides?" he responded.  "It glides.  It roars and it glides!" I said.  He replied.  "Let's get it then!"  However, we would have to sell up and move into the tiny  piece of mechanical joy in order to afford it!  Chatter continued throughout the showroom, and one of the salesmen came up to the table next to mine.  "Shall I order you one?" he asked the lady sitting there.  "I'll fight her for it!" I said, jokingly.  "I'll order two", he responded.  "In that colour?  Only it has to match our outfits!"  The laughter was good to hear.  With so much negativity around, the laughter was very good to hear.  When the frivolity died down, I settled back to read my book.  I noticed a young woman walking around, carefully avoiding others.  She was wearing a mask and gloves.  Her choice.  She edged her way along the walls, and up to the desk.  She had her phone to her ear.  The salesman with whom she was speaking was asking a question, and she was relaying it to whomever was on the other end of the phone.  Eventually, she extended her arm, as far as she could, and said to the salesman, "You speak to him!" handing him the phone.  He did, and then handed the phone back to her.  She put it back to her ear, still keeping her distance from all others in the area.  See the irony?  We all sat and stared.  The laughter was a little more muffled.  

"If you would like us to look into this for you, we need your mother's signature", read the response from the MP.  At least there was a response!  There had been nothing from the Patient Liaison team, nor the Minister of Health.  My sister had spoken to another person at the hospital  who was most distressed by the report.  He indicated that the staff were not the usual cadre, but agency people, whom in his words, and I paraphrase to avoid bad language, did not give one.  Again, I am sure this does not apply to all agency staff, but it was scary to think that my mother could be subjected to this again if she is taken ill.  

The weekend rolled around again, and our shopping trip was stress free.  No queues, apart from at the check out, which is the norm, and no drama.  I spent Saturday afternoon at the pool, and talking to various neighbours.  Dana and I went out for dinner.  Normality to a degree.

My mother has come on 'leaps and bounds' since leaving the hospital.  She is doing regular exercises, becoming stronger each day. She could not hold a toothbrush or a pen when she arrived home, but that is no longer the case.  Her voice has regained strength, as she had virtually lost the ability to speak.  She has been given 'shouting' exercises by one professional, and whilst I am not sure at whom she shouts, it has made a big difference.  If she had stayed in hospital, I am not sure she would have made it through last weekend.  She was slipping away gradually, and it appeared she was at the point of no return.  Now there is life in her voice, and despite being a great effort, she is pushing forward.  Not quite the ''military colonel' of my youth, but it wont be long before she gives orders!

It has yet to be decided how we will go forward with the complaint, but we need to go forward, for the sake of others.  As I said, I know it is a minuscule minority, but I think we can all agree that 
'nothing changes if nothing changes'!  Although the storms were rolling in I spent Sunday afternoon by the pool, and swam a lot.  I swam and I contemplated a lot.  Hopefully next week there will be more positive things to report, on all counts.  Onwards and upwards towards ..... another story!