I completed a few writing courses when I lived in South Africa and started one when I arrived in England almost thirty years ago. My aim had always been to write novels and my working career was purely monetary. I was determined never to be old and poor so working towards a good pension started in earnest in my thirties.
To get over writer’s block all the advice was the same. Just sit down with a pen and paper and start writing – anything that came into your head! That shows how long ago I did my courses. Today it would probably advise logging onto your laptop, iPad or phone and start typing. And this is what I am doing on a dank, ‘mizzling’, grey Sunday afternoon.
Sundays have always been my days off for as long as I can remember. My ideal Sunday starts with the newspapers and breakfast in bed. A few coffee refills and marmalade toast with a good mix of reading matter keeps my husband and I busy for hours. Still sticking to my ideal Sunday, we have a light lunch and then go for a long walk. Alas, always weather permitting and during an English winter this is even less likely than the summer.
Today could be an ideal Sunday if the weather improves, but there is a problem. My poor mother. She is battling end stage dementia and I now visit her every day. Because she has stopped eating the carers and I try to get her to take two glasses of an energy drink made into a milkshake with cream and full cream milk to replace her meals. This equates to about one thousand calories per glass which keeps her strength up and avoids the debilitating pain associated with the shutting down of her organs. I know this is short term but while Mum is still taking fluids, this is the best we can do for her.
Unfortunately yesterday was not good. My mother refused to drink anything for the two and a half hours I was there. I tried every ploy to coax her! I decant the contents of the heavy glass mug into a light plastic cup. This usually works because my mother is still able to hold it which is easier to manage. However, yesterday this routine didn’t work. I also tried a small measuring cup and went back to the days when my two children were babies. I felt so desperate that I was waving my arms around like an aeroplane and ensuring Mum that the drink was delicious! ‘Mmmmmm!’ I told her, licking my lips. ‘This juice tastes amazing! All this did was produce a rare logical comment when she told me ‘No! Put that down!’
So I gave up, feeling very despondent and useless! I decided to skip the Sunday visit because I felt so stressed and leave her in the hands of her carers. I know they will persevere, but maybe not for as long as I do! I really do need a break but I feel so guilty!
After lunch today I rang the care home. My mother hadn’t eaten anything, which was not surprising, but they were managing to get her to sip her energy drink throughout the day. She was gradually getting her calories, vitamins and minerals despite me not being there. She had finished one glass and started the second.
So I went for a walk and felt a lot better. The weather had improved to the point where pockets of blue sky peeped through the grey clouds and the drizzle had stopped. I couldn’t waste this opportunity to ‘make hay while the sun shone’. My husband and I donned our wellies and ventured through the mud and pools of lying water down Wood Lane at the bottom of our garden. There is a moderate three kilometre walk we often do before lunch so chose this in case the weather reverted back to type!
Another phone call to the care home has made me feel more comfortable as Mum was quietly nodding off in her chair, stress free and not in any pain or discomfort. Being able to enjoy this Sunday has helped me prepare myself for tomorrow and a new week. Maybe yesterday was just a ‘bad day’ for Mum. We all have them! Tomorrow will be better. I’m looking at my glass half full …….đź‘
Jenny Burrell 