Flow Coffee, Freshwater: raspberry  iced latte and chocolate brownie

Dinner: Korean grains, miso honey veg, roasted courgettes

Last night mum and I separated to go to our separate rooms as usual and, after a while, I realised that she was oddly silent. Then I heard a snore, and realised she had fallen asleep with her light on.

I enjoyed the silence for an hour or so, Suki purring beside me, then sneaked (snuck?) to bed. Unfortunately I didn’t sneak well enough, as mum woke up disorientated and confused. She didn’t understand where she was, or where I was, or why I was insisting she go back to bed when she had just woken up. Three times I thought I had got her settled, only for her to wake up and call out for me again.

Not until I heard another snore did I relax enough to try to sleep myself.

Of course this morning she once again refused to get up. I tried to give her painkillers, only to be met by fury, tears, and a slammed door. She apologised, but I was already at breaking point. I have a carer’s needs assessment scheduled for next Tuesday, but I’m at a loss how I’m going to make it to then. The despair is strong today.

Mum was still in bed, crying, throwing out accusations of abandonment, and being generally unbearable, when I left for my second flat viewing in two days. This one is in the centre of Freshwater, but is barely a studio: it’s simply the back bedroom of a Victorian house which has been converted into a self-contained living space.

That’s not to say it isn’t nice, because it is: beautifully finished, with the sort of high-end kitchen appliances I can only dream of owning. If I was working full-time, and socialising regularly, going home only to eat, shower, and sleep, it would be perfect, but for somewhere I will spend the majority of my time it’s far too small.

So I politely declined to the (very lovely) owner, then went into Flow coffee shop for coffee and ‘lunch’. I can highly recommend this tiny space, with its big pink coffee machine: the owner was friendly and very keen to help my disabled self get myself, my brownie, and my coffee get outside safely.

If you’re not sure about fruit flavoured coffee: it was a favourite of mine when I was first getting into coffee as a teenager, but I think that was raspberry syrup rather than actual raspberry juice as this was. This combination was sweet, sour, bitter, and creamy all at once. For the first few sips I wasn’t at all sure I liked it, but by the bottom of the cup I was straining it through the lid to get the last drops.

The brownie stuck to my fingers and my teeth, and was so rich and sweet it almost hurt. Obviously, it was perfect!

I came home to find mum up and about, and almost cheerful, although she quickly went back to complaining with every breath. I was immeasurably relieved when Lady Friday arrived early and I was able to hide in my room and make some phone calls. (“Don’t be away too long,” implored mum.)

I arranged a dentist appointment for mum next week, to hopefully put an end to the frequent complaints of tooth and mouth done. I’m very grateful that Lady Friday will take her and stay with her so I don’t have to.

Then I called the Community Nursing service at the number listed on the NHS website, only to get a recorded message saying the number has changed and to. update my records. When I got through, they couldn’t have been less inclined to help: they asked for a detailed explanation of why I thought we might be entitled to assistance, then told me that I couldn’t do a self-referral and needed to be referred by the GP. This isn’t what it says on the website, but my protests fell on unhearing ears.

So I submitted a request to the GP surgery, which I am confident will be summarily ignored, then played a logic game that involved my every brain cell to stop me thinking.

This evening I did a very veg-heavy dinner – all ready-prepared stuff, except the courgette slices – to try to get some nutrients into mum as she isn’t eating much at the moment. She didn’t eat much, but she did eat it.

Now we have athletics on tv, Suki on the sofa, and mum on the complaints train, as always.

Tuesday can’t come soon enough.