4.2.22
We’ve had some drama these past few days. Thursday evening around midnight, while I was getting ready for bed, I heard mum pottering in the lounge room. And then I heard a clunk. There she was sprawled on the floor. She must have pulled Som Chai (my pretend husband) down with her, because he was lying in a tangle next to her. I couldn’t get her up, so I shook Yasha out of his deep sleep.
It’s not uncommon to wake Yasha up in the early hours of the night. Mum falls over often, especially when her mood is elevated. But this time was a little different. I guessed she’d had a stroke because she couldn’t stand and her left foot was useless. Luckily we had recently purchased a wheel chair so the carers could take her out for long walks. Yasha and I managed to heave mum into it, wheel her to her room, and hoist her into bed. It was a challenge.
Questions filled my mind. What's the next step? I decided to keep her at home, observe her, and hope that her her foot and her walking improved. Hospital was the last place to be because of covid cases and visitor restrictions, and I didn’t want her to be there without us close by. It would be too much of an extreme change.
However, by Saturday afternoon I couldn’t manage, even with both Yasha and Gil helping her on and off the bed and carrying her to the loo. Mum didn’t have the arm strength to push herself up, nor the agility to move with one leg while we supported her. I called the ambulance. It was time to get outside help and it made sense to get mum thoroughly checked.
Two days later, she’s still having tests. Her mood is positive. I’ve received permission to visit her every day which is comforting. So far so good.
Yasha to the rescue
Ready to go, lippy, flower and all.
Gil's turn. One, two, three....