We are entitled to some extra care for the next six weeks at least, so we have arranged for two care agencies to provide sitters at “tea-and-homework” time for the Smudgelets so I can be with them in our home instead of next door.
Wait for it…. the care agencies are not supposed to administer pain relief!!
Finally, after long negotiations, the one agency had agreed to administer the morphine that comes in dosed vials. All they do is take the top off and help him pour it in his mouth. They are not prepared to give him the morphine that comes in a bottle, even if I pour it out in advance in a lidded cup.
The other agency has also agreed. They will give it to him from a lidded cup which I have poured out in advance from the bottle. They are not prepared to give him morphine from the vials.
However – the good news is that they will do the ironing while they’re there. Not only Dad’s but the whole family’s!!!
In other good news, his brand new wheelchair has arrived. YIPPEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Shame the weather’s too bad for him to use it!
He’s sort of done it again. First dose of antibiotics and he starts feeling a lot more normal. Two days later and my death’s-door-daddy is sitting at the lounge table painting, singing, and making such terrible jokes that his life-expectancy was seriously reduced as I valiently resisted the temptation to strangle him!
His bad nightmares are, thank goodness, being reduced by an increase in sedative (and with the application of some lavender pillow spray which either calms him or possibly gasses him into a more restful sleep) … however this seems to be having an adverse reaction on his wakefulness during the day so I think some fiddling about with the timing and the dosage is still going to be necessary.
I am already making plans for his week in respite.,.. as long as I can bring myself to take him there. He is making it clear how he feels about the whole business and it feels a little like putting a puppy into kennels. My sister is arranging to be here and take him in with me. AAAAGGGGHHHHHH! But it’s a week we really need and I know he doesn’t dislike it there quite as much as he makes out – it’s the indignity of it he’s kicking up against.
I apologise for misleading you, by the way, me hearties. Grog is indeed otherwise known as ginger beer. It was RUM the Smudgelets had with their pemmican cakes.
Yesterday the Smudgelets worked like Trojans (is that a somewhat racist statement in these PC times?) to clear the path between our house and their grandad’s from leaves. It was very leaf-covered when they began… and after a slight divertion during which I pointed out to each of them in turn that the path between our house and grandad’s does not include the patio in our garden which both of them meticulously worked on instead of the path initially!!! …. and it was remarkably clear when they finished. A good job done.
This morning Tiddles declared “I told you it would be far more sensible to leave it until the trees had completely finished dropping their leaves! I take it we’ll be on leaf clearing duty again tonight!”